Izzy glared at Gabe. "Have you lost your mind!"
His low laugh vibrated through her shoulder, where her body touched his. "This isn't sexual harassment, Peabody," he said, maneuvering their golf cart one-handed along the woodland path toward the mansion. "You're supposed to be my wife."
"I don't care. I will not fondle your thigh!"
"I didn't say fondle." He lifted his arm from around her and lay a hand on her skirt, just above her knee. He squeezed slightly. "Does that compromise either of us?"
Her breath caught, her speech processes momentarily disabled. He replaced his arm about her, stroking and caressing her shoulder, once again. "Well?" he prompted into her hair.
Speechless, she stared straight ahead, wishing the heat of his hand didn't linger on her thigh. "Rufus and his wife can't see where my hands are unless they have x-ray vision." She sensed Gabe turn her way but didn't meet his eyes.
"Peabody, you're a prude."
"Call me whatever name you please, sir." She peered at him. "But I'm the only wife you brought--for better or for worse." Izzy wasn't a prude at all. She simply didn't want to play touchy-feely games with a man who--well, who was playing a game!
"What if we have to kiss. Are you going to slap me?"
"We've already kissed, sir!" She looked away, suddenly all hot and cold and breathless.
"That?" She felt his low chuckle. "Peabody that was about as close to a kiss as a dripping faucet is to Niagara Falls." He shook his head, the movement drawing her troubled stare. When their glances met, he smiled crookedly. "If we have to kiss, try not to punch me. Okay?"
She glowered at him. "Don't kiss me and we won't have to worry about it."
His teasing smirk grew into a full fledged grin. "Just don't punch me, Peabody."
She didn't like his cheerful expression. It was evident that her boss
didn't take her warning seriously. Even worse, he seemed to be implying
that a kiss was on their horizon. Panic darted through her, making
light-headed. If what they'd shared on the plane hadn't been a
kiss--well, she didn't know what to think. One thing she was sure of,
though, Gabe wouldn't have to worry about being slapped if he really
kissed her. She would collapse at his feet in a dead faint. She'd let
him worry about how to explain that!
From the book THE ONE WEEK MARRIAGE, by Renee Roszel
Published by Harlequin books S.A. Copyright © 1999 by Renee Roszel
Publication Date (USA), July 1999, ISBN # 0-373-03559-4
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