His smile was rueful, almost ashamed. “I’m all thorns.” “I don’t know about that. I think you’re more like a weed.” He made a sound she wasn’t sure was a laugh. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” “Yes! Weeds are … tenacious. They survive against the odds, wherever they land, no matter how many times you cut them down. And sometimes they can be quite beautiful.” Kit watched her with ever-growing amusement. Gods, she was humiliating herself. She needed to stop babbling immediately. “That is how I think of you.”
