Opening it, he held out his hand to her, as though nothing other than absolute capitulation was a possibility. Her temper surged, heating her blood. Why did men always think women should do exactly what they wanted? ‘You can’t seriously think I’ll…’ Her protest trailed off as he grasped her elbow and with gentle pressure pulled her from the taxi. The driver peeled out of the driveway, taking with him Meg’s only chance of leaving. Bryce’s hand was still at her elbow, pressing gentle, insistent heat to her flesh through the layers of clothing. Swiftly she rounded on him, using the movement to escape his touch and its palpitating effect on her heart. ‘What did you do that for?’ ‘Do what?’ ‘Send him away. I told you I was going to pay him.’ Sounding put upon, Bryce Carlton sighed. ‘I had no choice, since you refused to let me pay for you. Besides, I didn’t like the idea of you riding alone with him.’ ‘He’s a taxi driver. That’s what people do — ride alone with him.’ ‘He was rude to you.’ Meg stared at him.
