Page 43 of The Duke's Goddess

And of course he would say something like that. “You’re incorrigible.”

He chuckled which led to a genuine sounding groan.

“At least you’re all right.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, rolling onto his back. “I just need a second.” It looked as though his arms weighed a ton as he slowly lifted his other arm toward his crotch. Tucking himself into his breeches and buttoning them, Joan felt a pang of disappointment.

“How much time do you need before getting up?”

“Just a few more minutes,” he said lazily. “Lie here with me.”

He dropped his arm outspread on the ground, and for some reason the invitation felt normal, so Joan rested her head on his arm. Together they looked up into the sky, peering past the treetops.

“Are you comfortable?” Joan shifted in surprise at his question. He was the one who had just fallen out of a tree, yet he was checking in on her comfort level.

“I’m quite comfortable in your arms—I mean, you’re comfortable…erm—your arm is soft. But also strong. With muscles.” When had she become a stuttering fool?

James's chuckle rumbled through his ribcage and into her side.

“I’m glad you find comfort in my arms,” he said. And then ever so quietly, he added, “Someone should.”

Another self-denigrating comment that Joan really wanted to dissect. And now she had the time. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing.” He started to pull his arm away as if to get up, but her hand flew to his chest, stilling him. Even though they both knew her delicate palm couldn’t stop him if he had a will to get up. She didn’t want him to leave. This was her chance to get to know him more. She had found a small crack, and she wanted in.

“What do you mean, James? You keep saying things like that.”

He blew out a ragged puff of air. “It’s hard to believe someone would find comfort in me.” The words were said as facts, not in search of pity. Almost as if he didn’t want to continue the conversation. Actually, exactly as though he didn’t want to pursue this line of questioning.

But Joan was not about to give up. “It’s natural to find such comfort in friends and family.”

“Is that what we are, friends?” Something in his voice sounded teasing, a touch bitter.

“We’re friends,” Joan reassured him.

“Friends with a lady…seems a bit…odd to find comfort here,” James choked out the words as he bent his outstretched elbow to the sky, thus rolling her slightly to her side to face him.

“If it’s uncomfortable for you, you can always find comfort with your family.”

What was meant to be an encouraging remark produced a cynical snicker. “Right. My family. The ultimate comforter.”

“There you go again, James. What does that mean? What’s wrong with your family?”

“Let me see.” He tapped his free finger against his chin. “My parents agreed on everything.”

“That sounds healthy.”

“It would be. If what they agreed upon were reasonable things like what to name their children.”

“Didn’t they agree on James?”

“Oh, I’m sure they did. Which…I must say is probably one of their only reasonable decisions. It’s quite difficult to agree on a name for a child. So I’ve heard.”

“James is a nice name.”

“Yes. Strong, too.” He winked. “But it’s not like they had four girls and chose to name them after warriors.”

“I always thought I lucked out with the most normal sounding name.”

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