His gaze penetrated her face for a beat or two while she stared off into the clouds. It was stupid to argue about her weight, but she wasn’t going to relent. It was true. She didn’t weighnothing. She had substance to her. So yes, she did want to argue about it. For some odd reason it felt as though by arguing that incontrovertible truth she was able to cling to some semblance of reality that existed before everything turned upside down.
Sam was being nice to her? He was protecting her? That was why she swooned. Not because she was dizzy, but because the entire world had tilted on its axis and her feet hadn’t been able to keep up with the rotation. Never mind that everyone else had been able to, that was clearly beside the point.
“If you can argue about that, then I think you’re fine to head to the house.” His arms shifted and she could feel him about to put her down. Her body rejected that notion.
For a fleeting moment insanity took over (or really, just her flare for the dramatics), and she rattled out a heavy sigh. “I…uh…don’t know if I’m quite ready for that far of a walk.” His dubious stare made her uncomfortable to the point that she added, “Of course, I could do it. Just…erm…slowly.” Her chest constricted, awaiting his reply. She would have liked to shoo off the elephant that had plopped down right there on her bodice,for at that exact moment, her corset needed to be loosened not tightened.
“It’s fine. I’ll carry you.”
And as she let out a small breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, she thought she saw a small smirk line the corner of his mouth while he stepped forward.
Chapter Eleven
After that morning,Sam needed a quiet walk in the garden. His body was charged and he needed a few minutes of peace. Mimi being afraid—no, terrified—of dogs was playing in his mind. She was a strong, independent woman. It was odd to think of her having a weakness that debilitated her.
As he strode down one of the more isolated paths, he heard an odd sound.
A grunt.
He moved closer to the rose bush blocking his view. He was pretty sure there was a stone bench on the other side. The perfect place for an assignation, but who would be doing that in the middle of the day? Joan and James most likely. Reassuring himself that nothing was amiss, he was about to turn when he heard the voice more clearly this time.
“Right there…” came the tight plea.
But that was not the voice of Joan. And he knew that not because he knew Joan’s voice so well, but because he knew Mimi’s voice, and this was hers.
He moved even closer to the rose bush. What the hell was she doing? And who was she with? She was obviously over the dog incident, thankfully.
“God, why are you so hard?” her voice complained on a small whimper that sent a jolt straight to his cock. She shouldn’t be saying those things to anyone else. No, she shouldn’t be saying those things to anyone at all.
He didn’t want to be listening to this. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping. She almost sounded like she was in pain, but then again, there was a fine line between pain and pleasure.
“Just a little bit further…” Her voice was now settling itself into his bones. His muscles were involuntarily twitching in ways he needed to stifle.
“Bend…”
Bend? What the hell was she doing? And with whom? There was a burning rage…an inferno of fury that was simmering, about to explode. Unleash on the man she was with. Likely that addlepated idiot Roger. Boring, bland Roger. The bacon brain hadn’t even noticed her fear of dogs. He had played it off as some kind of dislike, or perhaps he hadn’t even recognized anything was amiss. He had actually encouraged the dog to play, but based on Mimi’s eyes, a dog playing, and a dog attacking weren’t different things to her. He had been the one to step in. Thank God he did. He was pretty sure he had prevented Mimi from a mortifying experience, at least, more mortifying than it was. But then when he turned around she had swooned? What the deuce was that about?
“Yes! There it is.” Pleasure riddled her tone and addled his brain.
This woman was an innocent and he was overhearing her in the throes of passion, albeit slightly odd phrases. But who was he to judge?
He really shouldn’t interrupt this. Then again, he really should. He had to. This woman couldn’t keep herself out of trouble.
Sam rushed around the bushes fighting all ten steps as to whether he should march in with eyes open or not. But as he always did in life, he chose eyes wide open.
“Mimi, I must insist you stop—”
“Sam?” Mimi’s eyes flew up to what he could only assume was a disheveled appearance. Upon choosing eyes wide open, he had decided that raking his hands through his hair five times was necessary, as well as loosening his cravat slightly. It had grown deucedly more difficult to breathe with each step that brought him closer to her.
A clatter caught his attention. Her bow dropped to the courtyard floor.
His eyes flickered around. She was alone. With her bow. Nothing was amiss. Except her heaving bosom, which, really, he couldn’t help but notice since her breaths were so short and shallow, thus causing a slight jiggle in places where he really shouldn’t be looking, and causing a rambling in his brain where order normally reigned. “Wh-what are you doing?”
“I’m restringing my bow.” Her brows furrowed. “Should I stop?”
“N-no.” He shook his head.
“You don’t just get to barge into my life and take over, telling me what to do and what not to do. I’ll restring my bow wherever I damn well want to.”
