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have underestimated him, a tad.
    â€˜Why do I get the feeling your daddy didn’t take a hickory switch to...’ he paused to direct his gaze pointedly at her mid-section and she had to resist the urge to tuck in her bottom ‘...what I can see is also an exceptionally cute butt, nearly often enough?’
    She wanted to be outraged at the suggestion—and any mention of her father and/or the corporal punishment of a child would ordinarily do that—but unfortunately she wasn’t outraged. Because she was far too distracted by the surge of heat making her nipples tighten against the confines of her bra and the way her cute butt was now sizzling alarmingly.
    â€˜You’re very perceptive, Mr Price. My father never hit me,’ she informed him with as much dignity as she could muster while her behind was still pulsing from the imagined thrashing. ‘Because he knew he would lose an arm if he tried,’ she finished, with the purr still firmly in place, even though it was starting to sound less and less like an affectation—and more and more like an invitation.
    â€˜Seems to me an arm is a small price to pay when it comes to instilling good manners in your child.’
    The outrage came without a problem this time as the sizzle fizzled out. The man was serious.
    â€˜If you actually believe that hitting a child—or a woman—is less heinous than bad manners, then an arm isn’t the only thing you deserve to lose.’
    She could see she’d done a lot more than shock him this time, when he stiffened and the twitch on those firm sensual lips disappeared. ‘You mistake me, miz?’
    â€˜Carrington. Gina Carrington.’
    â€˜Miz Carrington. I’ve never hit a child, or a woman, in my life, and I never would. I respect women. Absolutely.’
    â€˜Is that something else your daddy taught you with his hickory switch?’ she said, the contempt dripping now.
    But instead of the smug affirmative she had expected, something flickered across his face, and she had the feeling she’d crossed a line she hadn’t intended to. He turned away, and braced one hand against the sink. Then fixed her with an unsettling stare. ‘You seem to have a problem with me, Miz Carrington. And as this is the first time I’ve had the pleasure of your company, I’d like to know why!’
    It occurred to her that he hadn’t answered her question, but this was the opening she’d been waiting for, so she took it.
    â€˜I heard you upstairs, bullying Marnie into doing what you wanted. Not what she wanted. She’s eighteen years old and perfectly capable of coming on a road trip with us this summer. And as I understand it, you’ll be on your honeymoon anyway, so why is it so important to have her sitting in Savannah twiddling her thumbs instead of having fun with us?’
    The grim line of his lips thinned out and a muscle in his jaw clenched. ‘So your exemplary manners include eavesdropping?’
    â€˜It would seem so.’ What did she care what some self-righteous Southern prig thought of her manners? ‘And while we’re on the subject, there happens to be several things in life that are a great deal more important than exemplary manners. And letting your sister follow her heart’s desire happens to be one of them.’
    â€˜Going on a road trip with y’all hasn’t got a damn thing to do with following her heart’s desire.’
    So much for his Southern manners, Gina thought, relishing the spurt of temper. At last, here was something she could work with; she happened to be very good at handling male tantrums.
    â€˜How would you know that?’ she said coolly.
    â€˜Because she’s my sister.’
    â€˜And that makes you her keeper, does it? Perhaps Marnie doesn’t need a keeper any more.’
    His brows furrowed into a deep frown and she could almost see the frustration pumping off him. She knew he wanted