If he had ever had second guesses about exactly what he wanted to--hoped to have happen between himself and Greta, she had washed him away as quickly as he downed his drink. "Well, I suppose that depends on what it is exactly you think I've asked you along for," he said, that infamous Ludo Bagman smirk appearing on his face once more.
He'd had thoughts about Greta. Lots of them. This was one of the first times that he'd had the opportunity to even attempt to act on those thoughts, and here she was meeting him halfway (at least at first sight). He made the bold decision to let his hand slowly graze across her mid-thigh. He didn't want to take advantage of her--unless that's what she wanted, of course.
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