Page 18 of The Duke’s Hellion (Duke Dare #3)

“C ongratulations, Mimi.” Sam’s words shifted through her, unsettling in her stomach.

Her hands gripped her silly little trophy as she stood before him balancing on her toes and then rocking back on her heels.

The cheers had died down and the small crowd had dispersed.

They had already taken off to the next activity of the day.

He said he would be happy for her if she beat him in something, and sure enough, the man had a smile on his face. Perhaps a bit tight around the eyes, but he was genuine. She could read him. Somehow the past few days had taught her more about the man than she realized.

He was happy for her. Celebrating her. So why was she disappointed?

What did she expect? For him to be the one to swing her up and around in his arms?

She knew who he was, and that wasn’t him.

That wasn’t his style…and really, she did know him.

He didn’t want to invest. He didn’t want a future with someone.

Why would he let his emotions out of their dark den if he didn’t want the light of a future with her?

Did she even want one with him? Of course she did. Who was she trying to deceive?

The duke dare be damned…or actualized…she wanted him. And she would do whatever it took to get him.

“Are you proud of yourself?” Sam was speaking again, filling the silence that she had left unintentionally.

“Yes, thank you,” she answered demurely.

When did she ever act timidly like this?

But she felt unsure of herself. Or…more accurately, she felt unsure of herself around him now.

Only because she knew the effect he had on her.

She knew the effect she wanted him to have on her.

What she didn’t know, was how to get him to want the same thing.

“No thanks necessary.”

“Well, you did let me have the arrow.”

“Any gentleman would do the same thing.”

“Not everyone.” She wanted to tell him the quiver story; it was on the tip of her tongue, but something was holding her back. She steadied her eyes on him, not permitting herself to break the contact. And as she stared, a realization dawned on him.

“The quiver?” His eyes were curious and held some disbelief, so she only nodded. “Your destiny?”

“We both know that nothing about that incident was my destiny, especially not the navy-and-gold quiver.”

She watched as his eyes flickered with recollection. He might have noticed Roger’s quiver. It was the only one of its kind that she had seen before, but she didn’t want to dwell on it.

“I should go—”

“I bet on you,” he interrupted her lackluster attempt to flee.

The phrase came from the skies, clear out of nowhere, befuddling her. “Wh-hat? What do you mean?”

“I thought you would win.” His smile was huge now, covering his entire face, pushing his cheeks back and out of the way.

“Wait. Did you bet on me knowing you would throw the competition? You wouldn’t, would you?” She felt foolish even asking, but she had to know.

The narrowing of his eyes, in frustration and…

hurt…was her answer. But instead of lashing out at her, he shook his head.

“No. No, I didn’t do that. I would never do that.

You should know that by now.” And he said it as though they shared a secret.

That he knew her and she knew him, and they each appreciated the depth of that knowledge.

The lump in her throat only increased when he added, “I believe in you.”

Those words hurt. Not in an insulting way, of course not.

In a way that spoke to her soul. In a way that she wanted to close off to him until she knew for certain what his intentions were.

If he was an arrogant cad and treated her gruffly, it was easy to hold her emotions at bay.

But if he acted like this…celebrating her, seeing her, believing in her.

Betting on her …then, it was much harder to forget how he held her and how right that had felt.

It was too much. So despite being the one to always raise hell, confront anyone at anytime about anything, she said words she didn’t mean and had never intended to use. “I have to go.”

“Wait—”

But she had already turned on her heel and raced off.

There was no destination except away from him.

It was stupid. She knew she was a fool. Falling for a rake.

Falling for a man who could never love her.

A man who didn’t believe in marriage. But knowing she was a fool couldn’t stop her from being a fool.

Her only saving grace was that she wouldn’t be caught playing the fool in front of him.

Now she knew her heart. She would stay away from him until this blasted house party was over. Then she would avoid him forever.

Well, apparently avoiding him forever would not start now.

She could hear his footsteps thudding lightly behind her.

Why he would choose now to chase after her, was beyond her ability to process in the moment.

She only tried to run faster. It was no use.

She had hardly reached the garden, hidden by the rose trellis, when he caught up to her.

His hand wrapped around her upper arm. Firm, but kind.

“Mimi, what are you doing?”

“I’m running. I thought that was clear.” It was mortifying that she was panting heavily, and he was hardly affected by the jog.

He chuckled softly. “Yes, I suppose that is the obvious answer. May I inquire as to why you’re running?”

“Why are you being so nice to me right now?”

“What?”

“Sam, what are you doing? That is the better question.”

“What are you talking about?” When he stepped back a half step, his hand was still upon her. Only it had trailed down her arm and was now clasped around her wrist.

“I mean, why are you chasing me?”

“I-I just followed after you to see if you were all right.”

“I’m fine.” But from the way she shouted the words at him, she accepted that they could both interpret the equivocation.

“You’re not fine. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You can’t fix it.” Only…he could fix it.

He was, in fact, the only one who could fix it, but she couldn’t tell him that.

She thought herself nearly fearless, but facing unrequited love had to be the most terrifying thing she could imagine.

And she couldn’t bring herself to face it at this moment.

She wanted the win of the tournament in her mind, not the inevitable loss (if one could call it losing if one never had it) of love.

She could feel a sting behind her eyes. Dratted tears. She would not drop a tear in front of him. She would not.

His thumb pressed gently over her cheek wiping away a stray raindrop. It had to be from the skies, for surely it had not fallen from her eyes.

She was a giant bundle of nerves. Like tangled yarn.

There was no separating the string. It was a mess that would take far too long to unravel.

And even though she didn’t want to, she looked up into his eyes, desperate to see what consolation he could provide.

His thumb on her cheek was not enough. His eyes were dark, his lids drooped down, and his chin tilted. He was leaning in…closer.

Where once his thumb had swept her tear, now his lips pressed the moisture deeper into her cheeks. When he lifted his mouth, her eyes were closed, but she could feel the tear being wicked away. Stolen.

This was the comfort she craved. And it was coming from a man she knew but couldn’t put her hope into.

For a brief moment she allowed herself to feel lost in that first kiss and then second kiss on her cheek that was drying her tears.

The tears that she didn’t want to fall but had fallen all because of her heart that was still falling.

There was no ground beneath her. Everything was tumbling down around her.

The only thing holding her up was Sam, one hand on her waist, one hand cupping her jaw, and his lips against her cheek.

This moment, here, in his arms, felt right. Like it could be so much more than what they had already shared. He was protective, caring, compassionate, and competitive. He knew what he wanted and he went for it. Why couldn’t he want her?

A tainted thought slipped through the cracks of her ethics. She could trap him. She could make him hers. If they were caught alone together, he would have to do the honorable thing—the same thing he had demanded of Roger—and marry her.

It was too easy. She could sneak away and set it up so that a small group of people would find them, and then he would marry her.

She would have him…but even as she planned it out, she knew she wouldn’t have him.

Not all of him anyway. She might have his name, his hand, a ring, his status…

that was all. And it wasn’t worth it. She couldn’t trap him, intentionally or accidentally.

“I can’t be here,” she whispered. His lips grazed her jaw.

“Why not?”

“We could be caught at any moment.”

The slight stiffening of his body told her everything she needed to know. She had said the right thing, and now she needed to do the right thing. She needed to move her feet and leave—

“What’s going on here?” a voice boomed, splitting them apart.

Mimi gasped, looking up. Several pairs of eyes were staring back at her, stunned. It wasn’t just one person, or even a couple of people (ideally her sisters), no, it was everyone. Or at least enough of everyone to matter.

James and Joan. Sally and Jacob. Roger. Chris and Nobi. Sally’s parents. Where had they been this whole time? Of course they showed up now. Had the succeeding activity to archery been an investigative walk? This was the worst possible situation Mimi could have found herself in.

If it had only been Roger who discovered them, he probably wouldn’t have batted an eye, considering his dismissal of honor.

If it had been her sisters, they would have been convinced to keep it mum.

But everyone ? There was not a chance in all of England that she would get away from this scenario without a forced proposal.

In a similar situation, Joan had been strong enough, independent enough, resilient enough to refuse to be pushed around by societal expectations.

But Mimi was desperate. Her heart was already owned by Sam, and she knew she wanted him.

If this was the way to get him, she wasn’t going to be a fool.

She was going to take it. Even if she had to work that much harder to make him fall for her after marriage, she’d do it.

Sam cleared his throat. “I was just stealing a moment with…my betrothed.” If he hadn’t choked out the last two words, she might have been able to lie to herself about his feelings on the matter.

But the look in his eye, the one which spoke of terror and dread, yes…

that look was most unbecoming on a fiancé.

He stepped closer to her, back into her space.

But it no longer felt comforting, it felt constrained.

Was this really what she wanted? His arm snaked around her back, and she could relate to Adam and Eve wanting to hide in the garden.

She felt exposed, and the snake at her back was not the ally she wished him to be.

This was her moment though. By his presence alone, she could feel him prodding her to say something.

She should release him from the obligation.

She could be like Joan. She could be a strong, independent woman, braced, prepared, and equipped to manage her own mistakes.

She should exonerate him from this ludicrous situation.

She should be strong enough for herself to take care of herself and her future.

She didn’t need anyone. She should be strong enough, damn it.

And she was…

But she also knew what she wanted. And she felt the fool—or not fool—acting up in her. “Yes, just a quick moment alone was all we required.”

After the first few, Mimi stopped counting the raised brows, never mind the slack jaws.

Apparently no one would have bet on the two of them getting more acquainted.

But then Mimi caught a gleam in Nobi’s eyes…

perhaps her sister saw something. She would have to speak with her later.

For now, the emotions roiling through her were practically throwing her off balance.

Regrettably, she leaned into Sam’s shoulder for support. His arm pulled her in closer.

“Well, I never—” someone started to say, but Mimi couldn’t make out who.

“Shall we have tea as planned and let the couple have their moment?” Ever supportive of her, Joan was indirectly instructing the group.

“I shall remain as a chaperone with James.” Heads nodded and bodies turned.

A few looked back to confirm that indeed they had witnessed what they were in obvious disbelief over: Sam and Mimi.

After everyone had left, besides family, Mimi blinked up at her sisters, quelling her tears. Twice in a few moments just would not do.

“Are you all right?” Nobi was at her side in a flash, her hand on Mimi’s forearm. Mimi only nodded her response.

“Take your moment, Mimi. We’ll be just over there.

” Joan pointed to the other side of the roses.

“We can discuss this afterward. This may be a scandal, but it’s nothing we can’t handle together.

We will stand behind you no matter what you decide.

” And she had this knowing look in her eyes as she voiced her support.

As if she knew it was different between Mimi and Sam.

She watched her sisters walk away. Boudicca had Wes, Joan was about to have James, and Nobi would have Chris (surely, that would happen).

They would have all married for love. And then there would be Mimi.

Alone. Married by scandal. Rescued from ruin.

She couldn’t save herself…not the way she wanted to.

Her future had never before looked so empty.

It made her furious to feel so constricted.

Imprisoned. This marriage would shackle her just as much, if not more so than Sam. But she would have him…

Her heart pounded through her ears. This was everything she wanted wrapped up in everything that she didn’t want.

To hell with it all, there was only one way forward. Without even looking at Sam, she announced, “You’re marrying me, whether you like it or not.” And she stomped off.