To Have And To Hold. Diana Palmer

anger that she couldn’t understand. She couldn’t answer him, not without having him hear the tears in her voice.

      “Burgundy?” he asked gruffly.

      She shook her head, trying to convey in that non-verbal message that there was nothing wrong.

      She heard his footsteps move closer, until he was standing beside her, his hands clenched into fists in his pockets.

      He sighed deeply, and one big hand came out of the pocket to tip her face up, very gently, to his view.

      “I’m forty years old,” he said tightly.

      She forced a tremulous smile to her lips. “I won’t kick your crutches out from under you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she whispered.

      His eyes closed, and an involuntary deep chuckle shook his chest. “Oh, my God, what am I letting myself in for? Eat your pie, you impudent little upstart. I’ll see you later.”