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"I'm just your average genius playboy," Anthony says, perched beside her (well, nearly on top of her) in the private room that had been set aside just for him and the duchess. He flicks the feather trim from his smoking jacket in her face and gives her ravishing smile, to which she replies with the strongest blush she'd ever experienced.
"So, should I call you?" He's hoping to break the ice, or at least to thin it.
"Virgi...Pepper, my friends call me... Pepper, actually I was wondering-" she jumped as he slips his arm around her waist. Oh wow, his face is incredibly close to hers. This is not… not good. She attempts a short breath but is thwarted by the strong smell of his cologne and the taste of the feathers from his robe.
"Pepper...?" He inhales and sort of gyrates, or shivers (he's not wearing much so he could be cold?) on her lap. "Such a hot... spicy name!"
Pepper freezes because, well, she doesn't know how they do things at the Moulin Rouge, but she's never done business this way before.
Anthony stops as well; her responses are less than adequate. "Am I doing something wrong?"
Pepper manages to squeak out a "...oh, yes well... space, please?"
He is up to the task and springs from her lap, a few feet in front of her, immediately striking a pose that highlights his best... features.
"So then, hot stuff, how do you want to do this?" His voice causes her heart to drop and her mouth to go dry, but she's there for business and nothing else.
Pepper looks up at his... eyes. It's best to be professional here. "I think it's best if I show you some of my work and you'll decide if you like it or not…"
"Well, I do like a bit of show and tell," he replies, still standing, very exposed.
Pepper reaches for her manuscript and Tony lets out a "Duchess, you didn't tell me you were bringing any toys!"
"Duchess?"
"Yes, well, I've never met a duchess before." Again with the voice and the looks and the… god, it's very distracting.
Pepper clutches the manuscript to her chest and clears her throat. "I'm not a duchess."
His shoulder slumps and his expression falls. In fact, whatever facade he had previous put on is gone.
"You're not a duchess." His voice is flat.
Pepper shakes her head vehemently.
"Well then, what are you?"
Maybe it's not just her head that's shaking; her nerves seem to be shaking her entire body with fear.
"I'm a… writer?"
"A writer?"
She nods again, more vigorously this time; perhaps he couldn't see it the first time.
A fractured smile; eyes too wide, mouth contorted into an almost frown. They're broke smiles almost match "A... writer..."
"I'm sorry, I was told by Rhodey you were interested in our play. That I should meet you here so that you can hear a reading."
"Rhodey did?" He smiles again and took a breath. "Of course he did."
He's sure he can see Rhodey trying to scramble away from the view of the window, but he's not the direct problem at the moment.
"So you're sure you're not a Duchess."
"Just a writer," she replies.
"Well then, writer, what do you like to write, besides poetry and plays?"
She shrugs, a smile on her lips. "Well, I suppose I like to write about love..."
"Well then, writer," he says, sitting on the floor at her feet, an arm resting upon her knee "Dazzle me with your words of love."