Copper Script

by K.J. Charles

“Graphology.” “No, I was going as Henry the Eighth.”

“King’s Cross?” Paul demanded, rather as if Aaron had suggested Zanzibar.

I suppose it runs in the family but why women have to gabble on and on endlessly, never a pause for breath, talk talk talk and gossip gossip gossip. A man can’t hear himself think. And I’ll tell you what else—”

do please try to listen—I’m not discussing my clients’ business. Shall I write that down for you?”

The instruction came in the sort of voice that took a man right back to school, and Joel dropped into the nearest chair as though she’d cut his hamstrings. Challice took the other seat and folded her hands neatly in her lap.