He halted abruptly, and this time she did slam into him, but at least it was his back absorbing the blow of her soft body. He could pretend to ignore it. "What have you got on your feet?" he growled.
"Shoes."
He looked down, his eyes accustomed to the inky black. Light-weight sneakers, already soaking wet from the damp undergrowth. "Christ, woman," he muttered.
"I didn't exactly get a chance to choose my wardrobe when they kidnapped me," she said.
Damned if he didn't like her.
"Shoes."
He looked down, his eyes accustomed to the inky black. Light-weight sneakers, already soaking wet from the damp undergrowth. "Christ, woman," he muttered.
"I didn't exactly get a chance to choose my wardrobe when they kidnapped me," she said.
Damned if he didn't like her.
( Anne Stuart )
[ On Thin Ice ]
www.QuoteSweet.com