“Hence the fishing?”
She pursed her lips. “If we can’t get along for a couple of hours, I don’t see how we’ll tolerate each other for several decades.”
He liked her reasoning, even though it didn’t mesh well with his plan to keep a distance. “And how would you say we’re getting along?”
“Better than I’d imagined. We’ve already had our first proper argument, and yet we’re still talking to each other. Plus, I’ve learned that you might not be as arrogant as I initially thought. If you were, you wouldn’t have cared if your comment upset me.” She gripped her rod in response to a tug on the line. “Goodness. Do you think you can help me with this?”
Setting down his own rod, Matthew leapt to her aid. Without thinking, he placed one hand over hers and held on tight while trying to reel in the taut line. The action brought him closer to her than ever before. His hip bumped hers and his arm settled firmly against her shoulder. Maintaining a gap between them while helping her keep the rod steady and reel in a fish was impossible. So he pretended their intertwined stance was perfectly normal and cast a quick glance about in case any onlookers disagreed.
“Look, look.” Miss Townsbridge bounced with excitement, her body jostling his. “Goodness gracious, Lord Brunswick. It’s huge!”
Gritting his teeth, Matthew put his back and upper arm strength into hauling the fish onto land. It was harder than he’d expected, wielding what had to be well over ten pounds of struggling weight hanging from the end of the line. The soles of his boots started slipping.
“How much do you want this monster?” he asked, bending his knees and leaning back further for added purchase.
“A lot,” she said as she leaned back as well, bringing her back against his chest, and her bottom...
Dear God.
He had to get her away from him before his body responded as he feared it might at any second. Already, a flare of desire was coursing through him as if to test his resolve. Damn it. They were pulling a wet, slimy creature out of the water. How the hell could he be getting aroused?
She shifted her weight once more, moving against him and...
Matthew cursed in frustration. She was trapped in his arms but if he let go and she didn’t, that blasted fish would likely haul her straight into the water.
Right. He needed to focus. On the task at hand. Not her.
“I want you to let go,” he said, his jaw brushing hers as he spoke.
There was a pause, and then, “You do?”
Matthew’s stomach clenched. Her voice was breathy and far too seductive for what they were doing. “Yes. Absolutely. Let go now and duck under my arm.”
“All right. If you think you can manage it on your own.”
“I can.” Certainly better than he could with her. Hell, she stood so close his brain could barely function. So if he hoped to convince his body it was meant to be fishing instead of engaging in an entirely different kind of sport, he needed her gone.
She huffed a breath, no doubt because she wanted to take credit for the catch as well, but did as he asked.
Sensible girl.
Matthew repositioned his grip and tried to reel in the line, but every time he thought he was making headway, the line would slip back out.
“I think the teeth have been ground off the gears,” he said and glanced around. There was quite a large group of onlookers now, all gawking at his inexpert efforts. Matthew searched for the biggest man among them and called out, “You, there. Can you hold this steady for me while I murder that beast?”
This was personal now. Miss Townsbridge was watching. She’d said she wanted the fish and if getting it for her was what was required in order to earn her respect, then so be it. He sure as hell wasn’t going to fail.
With this in mind, he handed the fishing rod to the man whose help he’d enlisted and began removing his boots.
“What are you doing?” Miss Townsbridge asked as she rushed to his side.
“Catching that fish,” Matthew said. He handed her his hat and gloves, shrugged out of his jacket, and retrieved the blade he always carried with him.
“Lord Brunswick.” Miss Townsbridge said, her voice both stern and perplexed, and containing something else - something that sounded a lot like admiration. “You’re not going in there are you?”
She pointed at the murky water.
“That is my plan.”
