Rhi gave him the most sarcastic grin she had in her mental supply closet and then stepped back. “There comes a time in every girl’s life when she knows she is never going to get her own dragon in Game of Thrones. I gave up that one a long time ago. I’m a girly girl now.”
“But you still went bungee jumping at some point? I don’t see you as the Bungee type.”
She shrugged. “All I need is someone to hold my purse while I jump.”
“You carry a purse? You look like a backpack girl to me.” Blackthorne stepped back, giving her the full view of him in his climbing gear—black bike shorts and a white T-shirt stretched over his broadly muscled torso. She groaned inwardly as her hormones broke out in a cold sweat and muscles contracted in parts of her body that hadn’t been used in a long time. This attraction was getting on her nerves.
His legs were fantastically manly. The marks of several scars on them only added to the onslaught of testosterone…but where would someone in this day and age get such long slashes on his legs?
