Nothing romantic, he says, and the amused smile she'd been wearing -- it was a fair silly picture he was painting -- falters. Which is stupid; it's a joke, you're not supposed to be disappointed by a joke. And it's not as if him carrying her romantically would be any less ridiculous.

There's no reason to feel as if he's just shut a door in her face.

She gives her head a slight shake, recovering her smile. "Goddess forbid," she returns in an undertone, eyebrows raised primly. "I can't imagine anyone at the farmhouse would be impressed by you leaving me in a heap on the doorstep." Her cheeks are prickling, but she lifts her chin and arches her eyebrow.