material. “I feel just wretched.”
His low laughter brought her head up. “I knew I was in for trouble when you fell on my table that day like a warning from heaven. I don’t know how I thought I could avoid you.” He laughed again. “Or your meddling.”
His resigned exasperation hurt, but she had no time for self-pity at the present. “Are you making fun of me?” she demanded. It certainly didn’t seem as if he was taking her all that seriously.
“No,” he denied, but he was smiling. “Next time you see Greg, flirt with him. Maybe he’ll tell you what he’s up to.”
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