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"Why can't I figure you out," he said looking at her through those narrowed eyes across the dining table. 

"There's a certain mystery about you, a quiet charm, the kind that thinks you're hiding a dark secret one that assumes you know more than you let on but you won't dare to tell. I think you enjoy the power of hidden things. It's intriguing." I paused for a minute and shook my head. "There's just something about you, but I can't put my finger on it." 

She lifted her eyes from the glass of wine that she was holding and smiled. "Would you like to?"

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