“Yeow!” he gasped, jumping out of the way and smashing the surprised dog against the car door. “Watch what you’re doing with that thing. I hope to have children some day.”

“If you make me any more nervous you’re not going to live to have breakfast…much less children.”

He settled into his seat, and Chris felt his eyes watching her speculatively. Embarrassment, and some other emotion she didn’t care to analyze, rose in fiery waves clear to the roots of her hair.

He touched her flaming cheek with the back of his hand. “You’re blushing.”

She groaned inwardly. Blushing was an understatement. If her face got any hotter, she’d be able to fry an egg on her forehead.

“This is a first for me. I’ve never been able to make a woman blush. I didn’t think modern women did that sort of thing.” He wound his finger around an orange curl and tugged lightly. “It’s nice.” His voice was soft and low. It reminded Chris of fine brandy that had the unusual ability to simultaneously soothe and stimulate. “What’s your name?”

“Chris Nelson.”

“That’s a very no-nonsense name for a slightly crazy lady. You look more like a Tootsie or a Fanny…or maybe a Lucy.”

“Lucy is my daughter’s name.”

“You have a daughter?” There was a moment of pregnant silence while he digested the fact of her motherhood. “How old is she?”

“Seven.”

“And her father?”

“Gone.”

“Poor man. Life must always seem dull after living with you.”

She gave him a sidewise glance and saw a smile threatening to emerge at the corners of his mouth. Damn him. He was laughing at her again. How dare he enjoy himself when she was so uncomfortable. And he didn’t even have the good grace to be obnoxious-the rat was downright adorable.

He shifted his broken arm, trying to find a more comfortable position. “Is it much farther?”