Shotgun Daddy. Harper Allen

air around them seemed suddenly heavy. Slow heat suffused her and she felt the warmth of faint color touch her cheeks.

      “I get you, Gabriel,” she said, her tone as barely audible as his had been. “But how am I going to know when you’ve reached that limit?”

      The amber eyes watching her blinked. The hard grip on her shoulders slid fractionally down her arms and then stopped. Today when she’d confronted him under the merciless desert sun, the man hadn’t seemed to notice the temperature or to be bothered by her unexpected appearance, she thought—but Gabe Riggs was bothered now.

      And she could tell by just looking at him that he was feeling the same sudden heat that she was.

      He released her.

      “You won’t. You’ll just know when you’ve pushed me past it,” he said tonelessly. He turned away, his jaw rigid.

      “The clock’s ticking, princess. Let’s go save the man you’re going to marry.”