”Oh. Well, you’re welcome.”
”Sven gave you a hard time.” It wasn’t a question.
His friendly smile prompted a heartfelt response. “All he let me do was breathe, stand in one place, and fall down!”
Malcolm grinned. “I can think of worse things he might have made you do.”
Much to her surprise, Margo found herself laughing. “Well, yeah, I guess that’s true.” She nodded toward the shower. “I, uh, have to get cleaned up. I’m supposed to learn how to shoot.”
Her lack of enthusiasm must have communicated itself to Malcolm Moore, because he chuckled. “I’ll make a wager with you. An hour from now, you’ll be singing a different tune. In fact, I’ll bet you enjoy it so much by the end of the week, you’ll be sneaking in to practice when you’re supposed to be studying math.”
Margo rose to the challenge with glee. “That’s a bet! What’ll you wager?”
Malcolm grinned again. “Me? Hell, Margo, I’m broke.”
She laughed. “Me, too.”
”Okay, how about something besides money?”
”Like what?” She was abruptly wary.
Malcolm blinked, clearly taken aback for a moment by her tone. Margo gave herself a mental kick. Malcolm wasn’t Billy Pandropolous or even Skeeter Jackson. Kit Carson wouldn’t trust him if he were, for one thing, and he wasn’t like any guy Margo had ever met, for another.
”Well,” he said slowly, “about the only thing I have to offer is guide services. I could take you down time to London-if Kit agreed to pay for the tickets,” he added hastily.
Margo’s pulse . started to pound. Down time to London? Oh, please …But what to wager in return? And would Kit Carson say yes even if she won the bet?