Distraction and Observation (Manifesto)

[Nesrin Aziz]

He dodged the question but he did sip the scotch, and Nesrin immediately felt the anxiety of suspicion ease. That adorable little blink suggested he was genuine, unless he was far better at the subtleties of manipulation than even her. Lucky for him it meant she needn’t worry about her contingency. Had he refused the drink, presumably because he was the tamperer, she would have pushed a little suggestion at him, one that coaxed him into her trust. In a place as crowded as Manifesto she really preferred not to risk it though – you never knew who exactly was watching, and who might be able to sense the fluttering of a woman’s power. That was recognition she’d rather avoid tonight.

Of course, if he wasn’t actually playing her that left the concern of what he really must have witnessed being dropped into her drink. Frankly that worried her, given why she was here; a worry she did not hide, but used as an excuse to slip into the reassurance of his shadow. Because her best shield against it was presently standing deliciously close, and smiling across at her in an entirely enticing way as he shared the glass. Nesrin smiled back, and sucked the lingering sheen of scotch from her lower lip, both sensuous and teasing. She wasn’t sure if he’d noticed she hadn’t drunk at all, but if he had she imagined he’d understand why. A girl can’t be too careful.

She didn’t press for his line of work; everyone was entitled to secrets, and he could keep them so long as they weren’t dangerous to her.

“Ah,” she said instead, tapping him soft on the chest. “So you’re one of the good ones. A very rare breed, you know.” She eased the glass from his fingers, touch lingering, and smirked as this time she did take a sip. Its burn was a comfort, and ignited the thrill inside. She did love this game. “I should know. It’s what I do – deal in rare things.”