He made her nervous. He always had. “I…was just going up to my room for a minute,” she faltered. He came the rest of the way down without hesitation, his booted feet making soft thuds on the carpeted steps. He paused in front of her when he got to the bottom, towering over her, close enough that she could smell his woodsy cologne and the clean fragrance of his body. “For what?” he asked with a mocking smile. “A handkerchief?” “More like a shield and some armor,” she countered, hiding her nervousness behind humor. He didn’t laugh. “You haven’t changed,” he observed. “Still the little clown.” His narrowed eyes slid down her body indifferently. “Why did you come back here?” he demanded abruptly, cold steel in his tone. “Because Duncan insisted.” He scowled down at her. “Why? You only work for Black.” “I’m his partner,” she replied. “Didn’t you know?” He stared at her intently. “How did you manage that?” he asked contemptuously. “Or do I need to ask?”
What do You think about The Cowboy And The Lady (1982)?
