“You’d have one less week with me—if you’ll just hold off a bit.”
He took the deal. He smiled grimly and jerked off his glove, then thrust out his hand. “Let’s shake on it.”
Solid grip. He didn’t try to break her fingers or anything, which she appreciated, since she could tell he’d reached the end of his patience.
He had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
Was there any chance he’d actually pose for a formal photograph? Maybe next to that giant horse of his... Uh-uh, she thought wisely. This would not be the right moment to ask more of Mr. Drake Carson.
Instead, she said simply, “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” he muttered as he stalked away. “All I ask is that you be a man of your word.”
“I’m not a man,” she called out to his retreating back.
“I’ve noticed that,” he said.
He didn’t turn around.
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