“You like him, don’t you?”
I look at Pryderi dumbfounded.
“Oh, come on, Saoirse. I know you better than anyone, you like him.” She plants herself before me, hands on her slender hips, a knowing look on her face. I hate it when she gives me that look. Undressing quickly, I get into the bath to avoid giving an answer to her. The water is warm and calming, she has added lavender and rose oil, and the soft scent fills my nose. I can still feel her looking at me, waiting. She will wait until the water is ice-cold, and I have died of a fever if she has too.
Or not.
“Alright.” I sigh, exasperated by her silent gloating look. I don’t want to see the look of satisfaction on her face at this admittance. “I’ll admit… that he has me… intrigued. I never know what he is going to say… or do. It’s…i
