![]() ![]() “That kind of observation is rude in all cultures.” “You’re short.” He could tuck her under his arm, and against his body, without any problem whatsoever. “I’ll e-mail the Councilor from the car, ensure the chief mechanic knows we’ll be coming.” Locking her door after picking up that little computronic gadget that seemed to be surgically attached to her hand, she fell into step beside him, her head not even reaching his shoulder. She hesitated, as if she’d caught the edge in his tone, but her words when they came were pragmatic. A rich, charcoal black, those curls tempted a man to fist his hands in the softness, tug her close, and sink his teeth-deliciously carefully-into that full lower lip. ![]() He ran his gaze not over her clothing, but over the soft curls of her shoulder-length hair. “I assumed we might have time to go to the garage as well.” He could see the edge of a white T-shirt beneath the sweatshirt, while plain black sneakers peeked out from under the hem of her jeans. ![]() She’d changed into jeans and a gray sweatshirt that covered those curves he was starting to obsess over. ![]() The door opened at that moment, revealing the woman at the center of his thoughts. ![]()
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