Arwen squinted her eyes at Aiden, pursing her lips.
"You are not getting it for her?" she echoed, her voice flat. "Although I have come to trust you, husband, know that I am not deaf. I clearly heard you —your conversation over the call, and what you told Emyr."
She leaned in closer, narrowing her eyes further. Then, taking his chin between his fingers, she tugged him forward just as he had done earlier while searching his gaze.
"If it's not for Ms. Martin, don't lie and tell me it's for me, either."
Aiden smirked —then, without warning, leaned in and pecked her lips swiftly.
His action was so fast that for a moment it took her off guard.
"You —" she blinked, momentarily stunned.
"Any jewellery," he said smoothly, cutting her off, "or any gift, becomes intimate only when it's chosen with thought —with care. If there is no effort behind it, it's nothing more than a transaction."
Arwen blinked again, her irritation faltering slightly under the weight of his gaze.
