The swish of her ponytail, a long, straight, swath of jet-black hair, drew his attention down to the lazy swing of her hips wrapped in faded denim. A walk like hers should be against the law, but any man with eyes would risk a felony charge for the chance to appreciate the view. Plenty to appreciate about the rest of her, as well. Half a foot shorter than his six-two, she was all legs and a slim body, with an enticing fullness where a man likes to see curves. Her plain, white tank top displayed a couple of those curves to perfection, as well as the toned smoothness of her tanned arms and shoulders. Her facial features were delicate, with high cheekbones and a wide mouth. The black hair, dark-chocolate eyes and lightly bronzed skin indicated the presence of at least some Native American blood. One of the southern tribes possibly, considering the melodic drawl softening the bite of her East Coast accent. The same bite that sharpened when she warned him to keep his voice down, and turned downright slicing after his spiteful insinuation.
