Page 110 of Ruthless Court

“And she talks like you.”

“How so?”

“Like every sentence comes with a hidden insult.”

Lila coughs to cover a laugh.

Kane leans closer.

His brow furrows.

Then he says, “You smell familiar.”

I stare at him.

“Really?”

“It wasn’t a line.”

“That makes it worse.”

He ignores that and breathes in slightly.

I take one step back.

“Are you sniffing me?”

“No.”

“You just did.”

“Your shampoo’s not quite right.”

“Coconut explosion? I use it religiously. The extra keratin saves my hair,” I deadpan.

His expression shifts.

But he has smelled me before.

In the seminar room.

At the beach.

Close enough to remember, not close enough to understand why.

“What do you study?” he asks.

“Archaeology.”

His mouth curves.

“Broken bowls?”

“Civilizations.”

“Same difference.”

“That may be the least intelligent thing anyone has said to me this week, and one of my professors spent twenty minutes comparing empires to sourdough starters.”