She froze and Locke hesitated. Had he misread her actions? He'd been okay coming on strongly because he thought she was interested but the last thing he wanted to do was be that man. He was too busy rehashing the interaction that the sudden contact of cold hands and slave. Oh. No. He hadn't misread, which was good because he really hadn't been sure how to back out of the situation gracefully.

Her hands - contrary to how cold they were - left burning trails across his skin that he wanted to lean into. Forget about any back-and-forth challenge. He would be happy just to let her keep doing this. To keep touching him, her hands exploring the expanse of his chest. His sholders. The hinting brush of her fingertips against his back. "Much," he admitted, suspecting he might be answering a different question than she was asking. Anything more and he'd have to find a way to take her home.