Liam walked back to his seat and Aurora's eyes followed him the whole way — the specific, involuntary tracking of someone whose attention had been claimed without their permission. She let it go on for exactly as long as it took him to settle into his chair and reach for his fork, and then she looked down at her own plate and made a decision.
Courtesy. That was what it had been. A man overwhelmed by an unexpected gesture, expressing gratitude in a way that had gotten slightly ahead of his better judgment. She had catalogued it, filed it under the appropriate heading, and that was the end of it.
She picked up her fork.
Liam's chef refilled their glasses with the quiet, unobtrusive efficiency he'd maintained all evening, and the candlelight shifted slightly as he moved away, the flames adjusting to the brief disturbance of air and then settling back into their low, warm steadiness.
