She tossed his wallet back at him, making sure to hit him in the face.

“Where are you going?”

She moved toward the door, “Apparently, I’m going to be walking my Brazilian-Mexican ass into whatever dinky town you have around here.”

“Dressed like that?”

She could hear the laughter in his voice and she had the overwhelming desire to punch him in the face. “Even this sheet is better than that fuckin’ dress.”

She got as far as the stairs before his arm slid around her waist. She shuddered at the contact. No, she never liked being touched, but this felt different and she had no idea why. She just knew it was freaking her the fuck out.

Angie snatched herself away from him, but her feet slid on the sheet. She would have tumbled head over ass down the marble stairs, but he caught her, turning her so that she slammed flush against him.

“Oh, no you don’t. Be clumsy in your own house.”

She frowned. Okay. First he said something about her non-skinny ass. Now he was saying something about her being clumsy. She was never clumsy. She was the elegant one. What the hell was it about this man that had her falling all over herself?

“Something happens to you, those dogs of yours will drive me insane with their howling… I hate that sound.” Carrying her against his side, he walked down the hall.

“Where the hell are we going?”

“My bedroom.”

She tried to pull out of his grip, but he held her easily. “I don’t think so.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He walked into his bedroom and dropped her to the floor. She stumbled back and almost had to grab him to keep herself from hitting the floor…again.

“Okay, Sugar, now let’s get you something at least tolerable to wear. Can’t have you embarrassing me in front of the neighbors.”

Angie expected him to pull out some other woman’s clothes. Some piece of ass he had in his house before. But apparently, the old lady’s wardrobe was all he had because he pulled out a big white T-shirt. He glanced at her and then, with an adorable, wicked smile, tossed it so that it landed on her head.

She snatched the shirt off, only for a pair of shorts to hit her full in the face.

She snatched those off as well, “What are you doing?” Angie shoved the hair out of her eyes.

“Trying to get you to loosen up. You are one uptight filly.”

“Sorry, kidnapping does that to a girl.”

“No, I’m pretty certain you were born with that stick up your ass.”

“Why you motherfuck…”

“You throw those things on, Sugar. There’s a drawstring, so that should tide you over until we get you some clothes. And sorry, no shoes for now. But this is the South. Shoes are alwaysoptional.”

He walked past her. “I’ll meet you downstairs, sweet cheeks.”

His hand slapped her rump, but by the time she spun around, her fist pulled back and ready, he was already gone.

***

“What about these?”

Nik took a deep breath. He did that every time she shoved her size ten hooves into his lap. Especially when she’d adorned those hooves with eight-hundred-dollar Prada shoes.

Shoes that he would be paying for. Who knew a slap on the ass would cost him so much?

“They look fine.” His jaw began to hurt. All that talking through his teeth. But he couldn’t help himself. The woman had moved through his town like a demon. A demon with his credit card.

“Just fine? Is that all?”

She’d purchased new clothes. Lots of new clothes. At the moment, she wore an adorable mini-dress that cost him enough to feed a family of four full-humans for a week. Every time she lifted up her legs to show off a new pair of shoes, he caught glimpses of her white lace panties. And he hated himself for his weakness. The more she showed him those panties, the more he wanted to tear them off.

It couldn’t be normal to dislike someone and want them all at the same time.

She lifted one long leg, holding her foot up right near his face. “Well, which do you like better? These or the black strappy ones?” She’d already bought three “black strappy ones.” How the hell was he supposed to tell the difference?

“I don’t care.”

“Hhhmm.” She lowered her leg. “Then I better get both…and the Ferragamos.”

He bit the inside of his mouth so that he wouldn’t start cursing at her.

She slid her feet out of his lap, grazing his crotch and easily got to her feet.

“I’ll take these, too,” she motioned to Janette, the owner of the store. Janette glanced at him and he nodded. Unable to hide her grin and unwilling to stop laughing, Janette followed the evil viper across the shop.

Angelina Santiago. He finally got around to asking the evil viper’s name. Now it would be the name he would forever associate with deep, passionate annoyance. The woman had spent nearly twenty grand of his money in little under three hours. Actually, the Ferragamos put him way over the twenty grand mark.

And what amazed him was how she simply didn’t care. She spent his money like they’d been married for twenty years and she just found out he was cheating with his secretary.

How full-humans put up with this he would never know.

“I’ll be right back,” she strutted past him toward the exit. And it was a strut. The kind of walk bands like ZZ Top wrote songs about. She didn’t move like a supermodel. She moved like a stripper.