"You are staring." He said.
"What?"
"You are not wearing shoes," He muttered, looking at her feet.
Her eyes instantly followed his gaze, dropping to her toes. They curled up immediately, withdrawing under her night garment. "I am not." she answered.
"Why?"
She looked up. He was looking at her. The yellow light hid his eye, still Madelyn could feel the deadness of the eye keeping her gaze. It was hypnotising.
He was still looking at her when his right eye blinked. Stupidly, she felt her cheeks burn. It was unintentional, she knew, but she could not stop her errant thought from telling her that he was winking at her.
Suddenly, she was thinking of the evening at the Beauchamp mansion.
The quiet stare of his bad eye.
The boldness of his gaze.
The unthinking 'wink' of his right eye.
That day, her heart had stumbled. Now he was staring curiously at her and her body sang in excitement.
He liked women.
