“Presently. Just now I'm talking and you're listening.”
“I don't care to hear any apologies, sir,” she said stiffly.
“I'm not offering any,” he laughed, yet stung by her words.
“You're merely insulting me again, I presume?”
“Some young women need punishing. I expect you're one.”
She handed him the horsewhip, a sudden pulse of passion beating fiercely in her throat. “Very well. Make an end of it and let me see the last of you,” she challenged.
He cracked the lash expertly so that the horses quivered and would have started if his strong hand had not tightened on the lines.
The Westerner laughed again. “You're game anyhow.”
“When you are quite through with me,” she suggested, very quietly.
But he noticed the fury of her deep-pupiled eyes, the turbulent rise and fall of her bosom.