Page 36 of The Duke's Hellion

Bah! This was not good.

“Sam, this hauling me around is getting a bit tedious. Icanwalk.”

“Fine.” He dropped her unceremoniously to the ground and walked to the door. He didn’t stop there like she expected, instead, he walked all the way out and didn’t come back. Ever.

Well, at least a few minutes must have passed because he came back carrying a glass. “Drink this.”

“No.”

“Stop being a child. Drink this so that you sober up.”

“Fine.” And just to be defiant, she gulped down the drink as fast as she could. Then, to prove she didn’t need to be a lady around him (for God knows what reason) she wiped her mouth along her forearm.

But all he said was, “Good. Now let’s go.”

“Where?”

“I’m taking you to your room and locking you in there.”

She stamped her foot.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Mimi.”

“Don’t be such a duke, Sam.”

He stepped toward her and her breath shifted direction, causing her to cough.

“I wouldn’t have to be the responsible one if you took it up a time or two.”

“Hmph!” was her mature reply. And to make it worse, her body chose that moment to yawn. Drat. Of all the times to feel particularly fatigued. “Fine,” she said, swaying her arms in whichever direction they felt like going. “Lead the way.”

He grunted and walked to the door. This time he waited for her to follow. When he peeked out into the hallway, she stoppedbehind him. Her hands hovering at his back, not allowing herself to touch him.

“No one’s here. Come on.” He reached back and grabbed her hand, tugging her out of the library, practically dragging her to her room.

When they arrived in her room, she locked the door behind her out of habit. She felt exhausted, but no longer tipsy. “Can you tell my sister I had a megrim?”

He nodded distractedly.

What made the next words pop out of her mouth, she couldn’t be sure because she really couldn’t blame the whiskey now. “Help me out of this dress,” she said, turning her back to him and waiting.

“What?”

“You want me to sleep this off? I need to sleep. I can’t get out of this dress myself. And I can’t sleep in this dress.”

“Mimi—”

“Just close your eyes, Sam.”

She felt him move toward her and she knew she had made a catastrophic mistake. There was no acting indifferent around Sam as he undressed her. She couldn’t even feign indifference when he looked at her, never mind when he held her.

But his fingers were already working the buttons. Light brushes of his fingers grazed her (burned her) through her corset. There was no turning back. And no turning around. She had to remind herself of that. Don’t twist around in his arms and kiss him. Do not do it. Just breathe. Like a normal person.

“Stop moving,” he reprimanded, but his breath was too warm on her neck and she shuddered.

“I’m not moving, I’m breathing.”

“Then stop breathing.”

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