.

mad I could spit.”

      “Jess…I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

      “Oh, I think you did. One of these days you’re going to have to face the fact that I’m not a kid anymore, that I have a brain in my head and a summa cum laude degree to prove it. You’re just like every other guy—worse, actually, because you’re so darn stuffy about it. You see a big pair of boobs and you think that’s all there is to a woman.”

      He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand and shook her head. Thank God his gaze hadn’t wavered from hers. If he’d looked at her chest, she’d have lost it. Big time.

      “I’m not in the mood to talk to you right now. You’d be wise to go find a bench somewhere and leave me be while I find some shoes.”

      Without waiting for him to agree or disagree, she made a beeline for the nearest shoe store, hardly able to see where she was going for the haze of anger that blanked her vision. Jerk.

      She stewed and fumed and before she knew it, she’d bought ten pairs of shoes and was feeling somewhat better. Nothing like new shoes to set a woman’s head on straight.

      She’d been handling Nick Grayson all wrong. There were going to be some changes—and soon—or the fur was going to fly. He was bossy, domineering and irritating. She hadn’t put up with that kind of behavior from her three macho cousins, and she wouldn’t tolerate it with Nick Grayson, either.

      As she stood contemplating a pair of sexy little red sandals in a boutique window, a masculine hand holding an ice-cream cone reached around her.

      Her heart lurched, then settled. Despite the nasty words she’d just been calling him in her mind, she smiled, let go of the bags in one hand and plucked the cone out of his. One of the reasons she got along so well with people was that she rarely stayed mad longer than it took to express the emotion.

      “Are you bribing me with chocolate, Grayson?”

      “Trying to. Is it working?”

      She licked the creamy chocolate. “I’ll let you know in a minute.”

      “Jess…” He put a hand on her shoulder, turned her to face him. He held an ice-cream cone in his hand as well—vanilla. “I apologize.”

      His words and his expression were sincere. Both banished her temper faster than any frozen treat or ten pairs of shoes could.

      She took a breath, let it out in a sigh. “Why the heck didn’t you say that sooner? Do you know how much money I just spent trying to cool off?”

      “I would have said it sooner, but I was afraid you’d inflict harm on my person. I’ll never again doubt the cliché about a redhead’s temper.”

      She narrowed her eyes. “Better quit while you’re ahead, pal.”

      “Truce?” he asked.

      She laughed. “How long did the other one last?”

      “Let’s see. It was about two o’clock this morning.” He checked his watch. “That’d make it about twelve hours.”

      “Practically a record. Wanna make yourself useful and grab a few of these bags?”

      “Are we done yet?”

      “Yeah, we’re done.”

      “Good. I retrieved the rest of your bags at the hold desk and took them to the car. Any more, and I’ll have to rent a truck.”

      “You’re such a sport. Next time, I’ll buy the ice cream.”