Reading Update: 30%

"I've got my own." Luz lifted the right side of her skirt and fished for the flask pressed to her thigh. She grinned as he choked on a mouthful of whisky when he lowered his gaze to where her hand had gone.

"That's convenient," he said hoarsely, sounding impressed. 

"I have a pistol on the other leg."

That brought on a coughing fit. She unscrewed the slim bottle in her hands, extremely pleased with herself.

"Slainte mhath," she said, tipping the flask in his direction and she watched his jaw tighten, nostrils flaring. She sipped slowly, eyes fastened on him, and from one second to the next his lazy repose turned into something far more predatory.

A hunter ready to pounce. 

"And I thought you were dangerous in Spanish." His brogue was more pronounced now. Every word sinking into her bones like that first drop of rum on the tongue. Scalding and sweet. Luz should've heeded the danger there, but instead she drank deeply, never taking her eyes off him. When she was done she ran her tongue over her bottom lip, then offered Evan her flask.