Embarrassment flamed through her—one brisk wind from the mountains of Thesolo was all it would take to scatter her ashes. It seemed she couldn’t be in this man’s presence without humiliating herself. This was why she stuck to the dating sims. Choosing a pithy response from a pre-populated list was easier than coming up with one on your own.
“Thank you,” he said, that deep, accented voice of his tinged with amusement. “I’m glad my lashes please you.”
“I should go,” she said, turning away from him before more silliness flew from her mouth.
“Nya.”
He didn’t reach out to stop her, but the beckoning in his voice was as good as his fingers curling around her wrist. She looked back at him over her shoulder.
His gaze was warm and inviting and if Nya Jerami didn’t know better, she might imagine that the Tabloid Prince of Liechtienbourg fancied plain, boring her.
His full lips pulled up into a mischievous grin. “You should stay.”