She pulled her hand back from his chest when he called her Sir, a quizzical expression on her face as she briefly looked him in the eyes trying to ascertain his intent. Was it mockery or respect? She’d been so disarmed, enchanted really by his body and it’s raw physical beauty that she had forgotten all but the barest shreds of her hurt and annoyance that this man’s tongue. But his grin reminded her of the sting intended and so she shut down, putting the mask back in place. That was the danger of this man, his ability to disarm her with just his smile or his body, making her forget the insult delivered but moments before.

He was dangerous, she needed to remember that. He shook her control and could shatter her calm and that just wouldn’t do.

But even as she eyed him warily he spoke and there was interest to be had in his words or rather the lack of words. She felt her interest reluctantly growing even as he spoke of a game he meant to play. 

A game, she did not enjoy games that were not of her own design, games she could exert control over. But this thing that he spoke of, it might be more than that. 

“You are not being clear.” She said as she stepped away and made a slow show of closing up the pot so that she could collect herself in the time it took. 

“A Game?” She wiped her hands on a bit of bandage, surprised by her own impulse to use his deliberately disheveled shirt. An impulse she resisted, certain it would have amused him if she had followed through.

“Speak in plain words please Monsieur Jax. You clearly have more information than you are giving, what with your hints and your smugness. I do not enjoy games. So speak plainly or hold your tongue.” 

She turned to him then and held out the pot, any further applications of salve to his rather impressive chest should best be done by him, she could not be trusted.