“Phillip, stop!” she cried out, wrenching herself away. What the devil? “Eloise,” he asked—cautiously, since it was his experience, limited though it was, that one should always tread carefully with a woman in a temper—“what is wrong?” “What is wrong?” she demanded, her eyes flashing dangerously. “How can you even ask that?” “Well,” he said slowly, and with just a touch of sarcasm, “it might be because I don’t know what is wrong.” “Phillip, this is not the time.” “To ask you what is wrong?” “No!” she nearly shrieked. Phillip took a step back. Self-preservation, he thought wryly. Surely that
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Haha learning the lessons
