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She snatched the dress and crammed it into her handbag. “No way. You knew I wasn’t a nice girl when you married me, so live with it.”
They stopped in front of the lawyer’s office. “True. You’re pretty testy and crotchety.” He leaned in and whispered near her ear. “And when you’re in bed, when you’re soft and hot as hell, you aren’t nice there, either.”
She shivered as his warm breath caressed her. “Neither are you.”
“Just how I like it. I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
He pulled back, drawing his sexy fog with him. He gestured at the door. “After you, Mrs. Holmes.”
She stopped beside him and stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “I may not be a saint,” she said, “but I could be a fortune teller.”
He raised an eyebrow in speculation.
She gave him a sexy wink. “I think I see a little black dress in your near future.”
She loved to make her man groan.
