Arthur rolls his eyes and leans back, all smoothness and disaffected mischief. Eames is being coy but there's hardly any veil over his real intent. Arthur, himself, is a bit nonplussed at this flavor of seduction when he'd rather get a feel for what their relationship is on normal terms.
"You're mischief incarnate, Mr. Eames," is all he says.
no subject
"You're mischief incarnate, Mr. Eames," is all he says.