He was sitting at their small kitchen table, a pile of paperwork sprawled across the surface, a quill in his hand. She would never understand what it was about his hands that were so inherently sexy, but there was just something about them that constantly caught her attention. He had followed Pansy’s instructions to the letter and looked exceedingly handsome as usual. While his quill still moved, and his eyes were still trained on the parchment in front of him, she knew there was no chance in hell that she had snuck up on him. He was far too aware of his surroundings to ever be caught off guard, no matter how relaxed he may have looked. Besides, if you stared at someone for as long as she had caught herself staring at this particular man, you started to notice the minute changes in his body language when he became aware. She knew he’d heard every click of her heel on the way to the kitchen.