“I thought you were assigned to show me around,” she said. “So how about we get to it?”
He studied her for a moment. Those incredible eyes moved down her body as if recording her assets and deficits for his own personal gain.
“Ah,” he said as though he’d discovered a box of treasures. “I get it now.”
“You get what, exactly?” Her shoulders came up as she tried to make herself look big and bad though she didn’t know why other than she didn’t like his tone.
“You know, it’s not fair that you women look like that and only play for the other team.”
“Look like what?”
“A man’s walking sexual fantasy.”
She looked like a man’s walking sexual fantasy?
Sweet.
“Who says I play for the other team?”
“Come on.” He shook his head. “It’s obvious you don’t like men. Starting with the pathetic name you gave your dog and ending with the way you ran out last night.”
“For your information …” She stuck a finger in his chest. “I love men. Just not players who are too pretty for their own good and assume every woman around will fall at their cowboy boots.”
“See. There you go again,” he said. “Men aren’t pretty.”
“Looked in the mirror lately?”
His surprised expression nearly made her laugh.
“And I noticed you didn’t bother to deny the player part,” she added.
“I just have a fine appreciation of women.”
“Uh-huh.” She patted that amazing chest and seemed to have some trouble removing her hand from the skin-warmed cotton. “You keep telling yourself that, bucko.”
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