[The way he says it - my women - implies in some way that he plans on making Felicity one of them and her brows furrow only slightly and only very briefly. She steps toward the kitchen because she does have the tea he requested and she glances back over her shoulder because she feels like she ought to dispute the 'my women' comment and yet... she's not sure how.

The water is put to the electric kettle and then she leans against the entrance to the living room, watching him. He really is gorgeous.] How many do you have? [Okay, so maybe she's a little flustered.] Women, I mean. You said you like your women short and I'm just wondering how many that is. That you have. [Ahem.] Short women. Or tall ones that you don't like.

[Her cheeks flush as it becomes apparent that he's succeeded in getting under her skin and her entire body reacts to the idea that he has more than one woman stashed somewhere.

.. oh. It's busy. At his place. And then the kettle goes.]