Page 7 of The Duke’s Hellion (Duke Dare #3)

W ell, that was a success of sorts. After dinner, Mimi was in the drawing room with Nobi while the men had port together.

This period of time in the evening could either be an awkward time, when women engaged in contemplations or worse, small talk, until the men reappeared.

Or it could be rich with gossip. This particular evening fell somewhere in between, and she was only too glad to have Nobi around to share conversation.

It was still so fresh to her that she didn’t have Boudicca and Joan around.

Boudicca being away, and Joan…well, Joan had found a way to always be sneaking off with James during this house party.

Soon enough, they would be knee deep in honeymoon season, but for now they were enjoying some stolen moments.

Was it weird that Mimi imagined where the two might sneak off?

She didn’t care. If it were her, she would want to find a closet or a wardrobe somewhere.

Just the idea of being in an enclosed space with limited room to move made her feel a little faint.

She could just imagine the crushing of bodies and the urgency she would feel being taken by a tall dark-haired man with a strong jaw… or whomever she was being taken by.

Yes. The wardrobe sounded delicious. Though…

come to think of it…out on the grass atop a hill with the chance of being caught…

oooh…that sent a thrill up her spine. Not for her first time, but she could envision herself agreeing (easily) to be laid down on a swatch of plush grass with a heavy body heating her from above.

She could almost feel the light prickles from the blade of grass poking her arms. The sky above.

Vast. Open. Anything was allowed. Yet the forbiddenness of it, the chance of being caught, that was the additional spark she knew could heat her up.

She pictured herself on the hill as a man came into view lying over her.

Dark hair, rich brown eyes, thick biceps, yet with a condescending look.

It seemed out of place considering Roger had light hair.

She couldn’t shake it. The face belonged to someone she knew.

Whose face was that that came to her mind—

“Mimi, please tell me what possessed you to wear that dress this evening.” Nobi reached out and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “And your hair…what’s come over you?”

“It’s fate, Nobi,” she said, clasping her hands together against her bosom.

Perhaps she was showing more than she ought, but that wasn’t her main concern right now.

Right now, she wanted to relish in her relative success.

Roger looked at her. Spoke to her. Some words at least. And she was pretty sure she had caught his interest over archery.

Now she needed to make a plan for how to connect with him over the activity.

Her eyes closed as she began to dream of an archery tournament in which she would go head-to-head with Roger.

Who knows who would win…likely her. And when she did, Roger would sweep her up into his arms and carry her off to his—

“Mimi.” Nobi nudged her arm. “Open your eyes. You look ridiculous.”

Without even opening her eyes, Mimi knew her sister was upset with her. It took more than a little annoyance for Nobi to be anything but polite. So she flung her eyelids up and lifted her chin to her sister’s visage.

“I don’t think I look ridiculous, and neither does Roger.”

A deep furrowing of Nobi’s brow indicated her concern, but Mimi knew she had nothing to worry about. So why the look of…oh, was that pity?

Nobi placed a gentle hand on her forearm, “Darling, he didn’t even notice you.”

Well, that was just patently untrue. Her hands transferred from the clasp over her heart to the crossing of arms over her chest. “He did, too.” There. That should show her.

“Mimi, did the man say more than two words to you?”

“He certainly did. In fact, he said more than three.”

Nobi covered a cough, but the pity didn’t leave her eyes. Yes, that was a pity. Mimi could see it clearly now, and she most definitely did not like it. Before she could give it much thought, Chris and Sam entered the room having finished their drinks with the men and headed straight to them.

Sam glared at her the entire march across the room, and when he finally arrived in front of her, he tossed her his profile. Chris feigned ignorance to his friend.

“How was your dinner?” he asked in a polite attempt at conversation.

“The same as yours,” Mimi bit back. She was not in the mood for the shallowness of etiquette.

Sam scoffed, but said nothing.

“You have something to say, Sam?” she drawled his name finally securing his gaze.

“Everything I have to say I already said to you.”

“Your scoff says otherwise. Why don’t you just say what’s on your mind? I’m a big girl, I can—”

“That’s just it. You’re a girl in woman’s clothing—”

“I’m a woman of marrying age looking for a husband.” The hem of her dress covered the toes of his shoes, her chest was heaving in front of him. The man infuriated her. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know more than you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes. I. Do.”

“Prove it,” Chris interjected the budding insanity.

“What?” Sam and Mimi both asked at the same time.

“I said, prove it, Sam. If you know so much, advise the young girl—woman.” He gave Mimi an apologetic look which she dismissed, because really, that slip of the tongue was the least of her concerns.

“I wouldn’t take advice from him if he were the last man on earth.” Mimi turned her shoulder to be perpendicular to his chest.

“That suits me just fine, since I wouldn’t give her advice if she was the last woman in the galaxy .”

Ooooh. Just to show her up, he had to emphasize galaxy over earth. That dratted man!

“I’d rather take advice from Chris.” The second the words were out of her mouth, she knew they were the wrong thing to say. Everyone in the group knew why, too, but she didn’t want to bring attention to it anymore than she had already.

Chris broke the silence.

“That’s settled then. Each of you knows more than the other, but neither is willing to rise to the challenge and prove it,” Nobi added quietly with an altogether too smug of a smile.

“Shall we carry on with the rest of the evening?” She held her hand out for Chris to take. “I feel like a nice game of whist.”

“Let’s.” Chris took her hand and the two turned and made their way to a table set up with cards.

Thus leaving Sam glaring at Mimi and Mimi shooting daggers at Sam.

Sam was too old for her. Ahem—for her to listen to.

The man smelled of tea and whiskey. Old man scents that did absolutely nothing to stimulate the inner workings between her legs.

He would know nothing about how she could go about seducing a man.

He would understand nothing about her. Probably tell her that she had to change herself for a man to be attracted to her.

Well, if she wanted to change herself she would do it in her own damn time.

In her own way. Hadn’t she changed how she dressed to attract Roger?

Yes, she could change some things if she wanted to. That was the key, if she wanted to. No one was going to convince her to do something she didn’t want to do. And if she wanted to flaunt herself, dangle herself, throw herself prostrate in front of Roger, she damn well would. If…she wanted to.

The only way to shut Sam up had been to beat him.

When he had clamped down on her foot at dinner, she absolutely had to respond.

Her body ached to respond to him. Beat him.

Show him who she was. What she was made of.

So…she slid her toe up his strong, muscly leg.

The effect had been immediate. His body had stiffened, and she could see his molars clenching a farthing between them.

Now…it was true that those muscles had called to her toes and her toes had taken a slight detour from her original plan.

But massaging the back of his calf had been key to keeping him distracted.

The hand on his thigh though…that was genius. She half grinned recalling it. Again, not part of any calculated plan she had, but it somehow all worked perfectly for her good.

“What are you smirking about?” he gritted out.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Not sure why I asked,” he mumbled, looking around the room. “I need a drink.”

“I suppose you really think you could play God in this situation, don’t you?”

Another scoff. This time followed by an explanation.

“If I wanted to play God and match you with Roger, I know I could. There is no doubt in my mind I could help you secure him as a husband.” A drink tray passed by and he grabbed a glass.

Taking a sip, she watched him drain the fluid.

And for some inexplicable reason, she clenched her thighs together while she studied the liquid pouring down his throat.

“But not only wouldn’t I advise you if you were the last—”

“Yes, yes. We all heard.”

He chuckled. “Well, I also wouldn’t advise you because he’s completely wrong for you.”

Wrong for her? Bah! Of all the nerve. The man really did have no clue what he was talking about. And her only response was a giggle.

“You find that funny?”

“You’re already playing God, thinking you know best.”

“Perhaps. But the man isn’t interested in you.”

“Of all the nerve—”

“Oh.” With a slightly shocked look in his eye, he stared at her. “You don’t know…” A flash of pity crossed his face and then something else took over.

“I don’t need your pity.” She tossed a few loose strands of hair behind her head. “You have your opinion and I have mine.”

“Your opinion is wrong if you think Roger is interested in you.”

Blasted man. Couldn’t he just drop the conversation?

He had no right telling her how to live her life.

Discouraging her. Deterring her from her destiny.

But she wasn’t going to say that. She wasn’t going to encourage his solicitedness.

He could keep his advice to himself. She didn’t need it.

Didn’t want it. She knew her destiny. Fate had spoken to her.

When Roger and she had reached for the same quiver, she knew—with absolute certainty—that he was part of her destiny.

And she would keep that secret to herself.

She was the only one who appreciated its depth anyway.

It was a secret she could share with Nobi, but otherwise she would take it to her grave.

There was no way on earth she would share that piece of information with Sam.

Not if he was the last man on—in the galaxy!

“It’s fate.” It slipped out. She couldn’t have stopped it if she had clamped her hand over her mouth. She still would have said it.

“Pardon me?”

She shrugged her shoulders carelessly. Fine. She had said it, but she didn’t need to say it again. If he heard, he heard, and if he hadn’t—

“Fate?”

Damn him.

“Yes.” Well, there was no turning back now. “It’s fate. Roger and I are meant to be together.”

Sam cleared his throat. “And what, pray tell, has led you to believe that your destinies are entwined?”

And she could have kept her silence. That would have been for the better. There was no point in explaining something so profound to someone who hardly understood the basics of life and love.

“A quiver.”

He choked. A few sputters and a cough followed. People were staring. She patted him none too gently between the shoulders, but he backed away. “I’m fine,” he glared at her.

“You didn’t seem fine.”

He took another sip while staring her dead in the eye, proving his competencies, as if to say, see?

“I need more of an explanation than a single word.” He returned to the conversation at hand about fate.

“It was two words,” she volleyed back.

“Quiver?”

“ A quiver.”

He rolled his eyes. “Is this about being right or about getting to the truth?”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” she winked.

“You’re showing your age, Mimi. That’s one way to deter Roger.”

“Don’t all men prefer a younger woman?”

“Younger? Perhaps. Immature? I think not.”

She wanted to growl at him.

“Calm yourself,” he said while eyeing the room again. It was as though he couldn’t deign to look upon her when she didn’t act the way he wanted her to. “Don’t make a spectacle by growling at me in public.”

“Me make a spectacle? Heaven forbid.” Her voice was increasing in volume.

“I have no qualms walking away from you if you’re going to be immature.”

“Me?” her voice squeaked. And even though she knew she was being immature, her body had a mind of its own around him.

“I’ll be as immature as I want. You don’t get to control my actions.

” Her palms were sweaty and her heart was beating rapidly.

At dinner he was indicating to her that she was acting too mature for her age.

Now he was telling her that she was behaving too immaturely.

Who the deuce was he to police her behavior?

And then she recalled his reactions to her “mature” ways.

So, rethinking her tactics, she pushed her chest out slightly, delighted to see his eyes drop for even a split second. When his eyes traced back up over her lips, she said, “And I’ll be as mature as I want, whenever I deem it convenient.”

“Convenient?” he asked over what sounded like a notch in his throat.

But she didn’t answer him. She winked and walked away. It was the perfect time to get an update from Nobi on her game of whist. Forget Sam and his old beckoning bones.