“You mean Harry?”
“He just got back from a trip to Scotland. His mother lives there.”
“Would I be poaching on his territory if I asked you to go to a movie with me?”
“His territory?” Julianna gasped. “Harry doesn’t own me, and I’m not a piece of real estate to be bought and sold. Only a total Neanderthal would phrase an invitation that way.”
“I’m sorry. I just meant that …”
“I know what you meant,” Julianna cuttingly replied, her eyes beginning to snap.
“You have a bad temper.”
“I most certainly do not! Any woman would feel angry at being considered some man’s territory.”
“A man does feel possessive about his woman. You women may not like it, but it’s just nature.”
“I hate it when a man talks about “his woman.”
“What does that mean to you?” Buck asked.
“When a man talks about his woman he mostly means that he’s the boss. It means some big bull of a man forcing his “woman” to wait on him hand and foot and be at his beck and call for everything.”
“Everything?” teased Buck.
Buck pondered her opinion. “Some women like to pamper a man.”
“Is that what you’d call it? Pampering?”
“It doesn’t matter what you call it; some women like it.”
“Well, some don’t!”
“You would. You’d take good care of your man, and even though you’d spit fire and scratch, you’d melt when he finally rolled you over on your back and had you.”