![]() ![]() 'Milnafua.' He sniggered, as if self-conscious about the name. 'Where's here?' she asked, nodding her head at the open road, hoping to remind him how far she had taken him already. 'Your wife,' she rejoined, striving for a reassuring, companionable, male sort of tone, a tone he might expect from a drinking buddy. Maybe the only truly safe thing she could have been was a housewife. It was just that she'd taken him to be a rough, robust kind of character she'd thought he might have a criminal history he'd start to talk about, as a way of teasing her, testing her out. Maybe a shop assistant or an infant teacher would have brought him out more. Maybe she shouldn't have said she was a lawyer. But he just sighed and settled further back in his seat, as if what he considered to be an insignificant increase in speed only reminded him how slowly they were getting nowhere. Isserley pressed her foot gingerly down on the accelerator, hoping this would please him. 'You can open a window if you're too hot,' she offered. Was he one of those inadequate lugs whose sexual self-confidence depended on not being reminded of any real females? Or was it her fault? What on earth had happened to him? What had brought on this dismal metamorphosis? Just as she'd grown to appreciate how attractive a prospect he was, he seemed to be shrinking before her eyes he wasn't the same male she'd taken into her car twenty minutes ago. ![]()
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