Emmeline cursed the fact that she flustered so easily and that her face always seemed to blush such a violent shade of red in the process. She'd really have to try and figure out how to get a reign on that. But then the smug ass had to take it a step further and reach out to touch her cheek. He got what he wanted and she seemed to turn even more red as she swatted his hand away.

"Don't touch me," she ground out, choosing to ignore his other comment. The very idea of being in bed with Mr. Lestrange was awful. At least, that's what she wanted to think and believe. "Can we just get on with our patrol?" she asked, averting her gaze from him as if him looking at her would make her think things she really didn't want to think of.

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