She picked up her skirts. “That’s not surprising. You have little sense of humor.”
“I believe I have an excellent sense of humor,” he said hotly.
“You’ve lost it somewhere, Robert.”
They stood in the street glaring at each other.
Kate shook her head. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Robert. Let’s go home.” She crossed to the carriage and held out her hand for his assistance.
Robert eyed her derriere as he helped her into the landau. His fingers curled into his palm as he suffered an overwhelming desire to smack it. Her derriere, like a perfect peach, was hidden by so many folds of material he doubted she’d feel it. Better that he do it when she was naked and stretched over his lap. He swallowed and almost cursed out loud. “I believe I remember the very morning I lost it,” he said, settling on the seat beside her.
Her eyes widened. “Lost what?”
“My sense of humor.”
“Oh.” Kate didn’t bother to ask. She turned to stare out of the window.
