“Youhave been watching me struggle in these bushes rather than offering the slightest hint of sympathy. Is that an appropriate way to treat a friend?” I snapped. “Or a lady for that matter?”
“No, it’s not,” he answered seriously. He ran his fingers through his hair as if frustrated about something. “I’m sorry.” He extended his hand. “Please allow me to help you out of the bush.”
I sighed. “Actually, I plan to stay here until you have gone.”
He chuckled. “That won’t be possible, actually, because I don’t plan to leave until you are safely on your feet again.”
“My feet are not safe.”
I caught a glimpse of his smile. He parted the branches, snapping a few more of them to see me more clearly. The poor flowers. They would all die because of me. Well, becauseOwenstartled me.
I tried to sit up, but my hair pulled me backward again.
“Is your hair caught?” he asked.
Before I could answer, he knelt over me, reaching behind my head with both hands. I froze. My gaze focused on his brow, furrowed in concentration as he set to work on my hair. The leaves rustled and snapped as he adjusted his weight on his knees. One hand cupped the back of my neck as he leaned closer to examine the tangle. Was this how his patients felt when he tested and prodded them? I had only ever met old physicians, not young and handsome ones. His dark lashes distracted me, and I found myself staring at them. My stomach fluttered when his eyes met mine.
“Let us hope we aren’t seen in such a compromising position,” he said with a wry smile. “You would have to marry me for the sake of your reputation.”
The wordsmarry meon Owen’s lips made me even more flustered than I already was. “My reputation is not worththat,” I blurted. I snapped my mouth shut. Did he understand my complete lack of experience interacting with men my own age? I didn’t know why my first instinct was to be impertinent in the presence of a handsome man. A handsome,infuriatingman, I corrected.
“Good to know that you find me so repulsive,” he said with a laugh.
“Was that word not on my list?” I teased.
His gaze landed on mine, the corner of his mouth quirking upward in surprise. I hadn’t meant to tease him back, but thetone had been in my voice. I wiped my smile away as fast as I could. He was still leaning over me with his hands in my hair.
Compromising, indeed.
I tried not to think too hard on the subject as he tugged at the strands for a few more seconds. He smelled of fresh soap, perhaps some blend of citrus and bergamot, and something masculine and woodsy. Perhaps that was just the branches.
“There.” He sat back on his heels. “Your hair is free.”
“Thank you,” I muttered, my face still hot. I wrestled my way forward in the bushes until my feet found solid ground again. I took a handful of leaves off the bush as I tried to pull myself out, ignoring his outstretched hand.
“Take my hand,” he said in an exasperated voice.
“I am quite capable of standing on my own, thank you.”
“Are you?”
I stood up rather dramatically, brushing bits of leaves off my dress. I gave him a defiant look, suddenly desperate to prove my competence. “I am. I have been doing so since I was just shy of one year old, in fact.”
His eyes widened. “How accomplished, you are. All I did at that age was drink my grandmother’s brandy.”
I held his gaze for several seconds as the events of the past five minutes caught up to me.
It was all so ridiculous.
Owen’s lips were twitching at the corners, which I now knew meant that he was trying to hold back laughter. I felt it too. My stomach clenched against the wild burst of amusement bubbling up inside. I only held out a few seconds longer before my laughter burst out. Once it broke free, it didn’t want to stop.
Owen tipped his head back in laughter of his own. I was reminded of last night at dinner. His chuckling subsided and he looked at me with a broad grin. “You have the most unique and infectious laugh.”
“What? I do not.”
“You do. It is unlike any laugh I have ever heard. Haven’t many people told you that?”
I shrugged, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. I picked a leaf fragment off my skirts. What would he think if he knew that I didn’t have any friends back in Silton?
