"He gazed at her without answering, and his fingers drummed a light tattoo on the table. "I need my sketch pad," he said. "You should do that more often, Camille." "Do what?" She could feel her cheeks grow warm at the intentness of his gaze. "Smile," he said. "With a certain degree of mischief in your eyes. The expression transforms you. Or perhaps it is just another facet of your character I have not seen before. I left my sketchbook at the orphanage, alas, though I do have others in the studio." " " "Of course you are not doing it any longer," he said. "I ought not to have drawn your attention to it." --