Livia folded her arms loosely. "This is the best I can do."
Richard's brows lifted, unconvinced. "I really doubt that."
"If you don't like the way I dance," she said, lifting her chin slightly, "you can leave."
"I wonder what would happen," he mused, "if I went back to your tavern owner and asked for my money back. Because," he continued, a teasing edge creeping into his tone, "there is no way I am paying that much… for that." He straightened, then mimicked her.
A slight sway. A half-hearted turn. The smallest lift of the arm, exaggerated just enough to make it ridiculous.
"What was that you were doing?" he added, finishing with a mock flourish.
Livia's cheeks burned. Richard's eyes met hers again. He had seen through her completely—and worse, he was enjoying it.
"Come on," he said. He gave her a small wink. "Do better." His gaze dropped briefly to her breasts, then returned to her face. "Be better."
