CHAPTER 20
“You must be punished for your insolence.” Henry’s voice was low, a thunder rumble that sent a not-entirely unpleasant shiver up Thalia’s spine.
“I do not see how I can be called insolent, when you told me that this manor was mine, for all intents and purposes. Am I not permitted to read in peace wherever I choo?—”
The words of objection became a yelp as a strong arm grasped her around the waist, another sweeping her, quite literally, off her feet. Her eyes shot open, too shocked to say anything else for a moment as she realized Henry was carrying her toward the lake.
“Unhand me!” she shouted, finding her voice. “You set me down at once!”
“I told you,” he replied, continuing onward. “I do not care to be ordered around on my own estate. A lesson must be taught and learned. There is nothing else for it.”
She kicked her legs, wriggling to try and free herself. “Do not dare! I am serious, Henry! Do not dare! Frances is coming later, and I willnotbe covered in lake slime!”
But Henry carried her down the sloping shore, and as his feet entered the water, her protests became rather more colorful.
“You brute!” she howled, no longer kicking and writhing in case he dropped her directly into the lake. “Oh, you are a devil indeed! Take me out of here this minute, you beastly thing!”
Henry shook his head. “You must accept your punishment, Thalia. It is the only thing you can do.”
“There might be leeches in there!” she shrieked, now clinging to him rather than fighting against him, practically climbing him to avoid meeting that surface of the lake. “Donotput me in that water! If you do, I shall be?—”
She gasped as he suddenly dipped her, the surprisingly tepid water soaking through her dress to her skin. Holding her tightly, he began to turn her in a circle, ruining her peace completely.
“You beast!” she shouted, though it was surprisingly difficult to force anger into her voice when she was being twirled around in the water.
Something about the movement, the rotation of the sky above her, and the water giving way to her body, made her want to close her eyes and smile. But she would not do that. No, she would not give him any sort of indication that she was not absolutely apoplectic with fury.
“I am all wet!” she snapped. “Look what you have done! This dress is ruined now, and I daresay I shall find all manner of creatures hiding in my skirts. Tadpoles and the like. I meant to wear this for luncheon with Frances!”
But as she glared at him, and he looked down at her, she noticed an odd expression upon his face, a look that appeared almost… playful. Humor shone there in his blue eyes, his lips quirked in a smile so endearingly boyish that she did not know how much longer she could hold onto her anger.
As it turned out, she lost her grip on her fury a few seconds later, as he spun her around for a second time.
Laughter bubbled up unbidden, pealing from her lips before she could hope to stop it. And as she held his gaze a moment, she saw the light in his eyes brighten in return, his smile widening into a grin.
Her heart fluttered at the sight, for that pure joy upon his face transformed him from an unfairly handsome man into a supernaturally handsome man. Otherworldly in his masculine beauty. Indeed, was there anything more appealing in all the world than a handsome gentleman whoalsohad a playful sense of humor?
And this is why he is to be avoided, why he is dangerous for me…
“Very well, I have learned my lesson,” Thalia said, as her laughter ebbed, and she pushed her way out of Henry’s powerful arms and that dizzying spin. “I cannot read my book now that I am soaked anyway.”
He released her and, on unsteady legs, she turned and began to wade back to the safety of the shore.
Seconds from dry land, she gasped as she felt his arms around her once more, his bare chest pressed against her shoulders, his body so close that shewouldhave stumbled from the shock if he had not been holding her already.
Yet, she did not try to wrench herself away; rather, she felt herself lean back into him, savoring the protective sensation of his arms locked around her, and the comforting rise and fall of his chest against her. As if they had done this before, or she had wanted to, at least.
Why do I feel so… at ease?
Even as he dipped his head and whispered softly, “I apologize for getting you wet,” the wild pounding of her heart was not a beat of panic or fear, but of a desire to remain exactly where she was.
“I will find a way to repay you for this,” he added, his breath tickling the curve of her neck. “Another dress, certainly, ifit cannot be salvaged. Although, I hear the laundry here is exceptional.”
Though she could not see his face, she couldfeelthat he was smiling… and longed to scream from the torture of it. How was it possible that he, a husband of convenience, could be so unbelievably inconvenient, making her heart race and her breath catch and her skin tingle like this? How could he tell her that her appeal was a problem for him, and then do something like this? How could he look at her as if he meant to kiss her, then hold her this close andnotkiss her?
It was torment, plain and simple. A devil’s game that had her reeling.
“I should… change into something dry before Mrs. Fisher has a conniption about me catching cold,” she managed to croak, though it took every shred of willpower that she possessed.
