She stared at him, stunned into silence.
Urag tilted his head, clearly savoring her reaction. "You really are too easy to unravel, Eiravyne."
"Th-that's unsanitary," she whispered, but the protest lacked heat.
He chuckled low in his throat, the sound threading around her like smoke. "Then consider me thoroughly contaminated."
He leaned closer again, placing the bottle between them.
"Ready for lesson two?" he murmured.
.She should have said no. She should have pulled back, folded her arms, thrown a pillow at his smug face—anything.
But she couldn't move.
"Lesson two?" she managed, voice hoarse with uncertainty.
He leaned in slowly, the bare planes of his chest inches from her arm, the scent of clean skin and spiced wine curling in the air between them.
"Mmm," he murmured, eyes heavy-lidded . "Confidence."
"Confidence?" she repeated warily.
He met her gaze again, his voice smooth. "You drink this one on your own."
