”Why didn’t you say something?”
”Margo, I was under the impression you’d learned something from your experiences in London. Was I wrong?”
Margo had the good grace to flush bright red
”Pay attention to what you’re doing. “ He said it quietly but with enough force to make her hang her head “I refuse to believe Sven Bailey has trained you for several weeks, yet neglected to mention that little gem of survival wisdom.”
Margo’s flush deepened. “No harm done. We weren’t mugged or anything.”
He could have pointed out that she wasn’t carrying anything heavy and so wasn’t in a fit position to judge harm done, but he’d voluntarily assumed the weight of responsibility when he’d decided to teach her a little object lesson.
”Not yet,” he pointed out. “But you still need to pay attention, Margo. There are consequences to everything you do–or, don’t do. As a scout, you won’t have me along to bail you out.”
She huffed as only Margo could do. The elegant folds of her costume flounced with the movement, leading Malcolm’s attention badly astray from the lesson at hand When Margo pouted, Malcolm was hard pressed to keep his attention on the job at hand-or anything else, for that matter.
All right, eyes front and center, Malcolm! You were hired to play teacher, not Don Juan. But darn it… all that spirit and tenacity and the occasional flashes of warmth and brilliance, glimpsed behind the pert facade and the periodic deep-seated hurt in her eyes, had come gift wrapped in such a pretty package ….
None of which was her fault.