Page 12 of The Duke's Hellion

“I would just like to verbalize my dissent on this activity. Again,” Chris said with a sigh.

“Noted,” Sam replied.

“If you don’t want to do it, Nobi will step in.” Mimi said it without acknowledging her sister, since she knew she would do it. She was always there to support her, even in crazy antics such as this.

From her peripheral vision, Mimi saw Chris put his hand up, assumingly to stop Nobi from replacing him. “I’ve got this, Mimi.”

With a final shake of his head, he started the countdown. “Three. Two. One.”

When the last sound staggered off his tongue, Mimi pushed with all her might. She was strong. She knew it because she and her sisters were very active. They were always engaged in some physical activity. Fencing, knife-throwing, archery, shooting, and more. Nearly every day, they trained in their Practice Hall back at Bellator Manor. It was a priority to each of them to remain healthy and strong. Mimi had witnessed other women struggle to lift a bag or push a piece of furniture even a short distance. She had always been able to do what they couldn’t. So when she pushed—with all her might—against Sam’s hand, she expected something to happen. But all she did was push.

Against a wall.

No, a mountain.

A mountain made of pure diamond.

There was no budge. Of course, she knew he would be stronger than her. She would be a fool to think she even had a chance. But as she pushed against his hand of metal, she realizedshe wasthatfool. There was the tiniest part of her that thought she had a chance. Her eyes met his. There was a strain in them. A tension she couldn’t make out.

Was he exerting his full strength against her? She dug deeper within herself and pushed harder. His arm bent back.

Hope danced in her heart. Did she have a chance? Was he in some state of weakness that she could take advantage of? Did she want to take advantage of him? But was it taking advantage of him if he willingly entered the competition?

Deuced devil of a man. She would be her best. Nothing less.

Looking at her grasp, she pushed against his hand with all her might. Incidentally, a grunt escaped her throat at the same time. A bead of sweat dripped down between her breasts. But it was all worth it because his arm bent back further.

But then…he hummed. She peeked up into his eyes and was met by merriment.

God, blast—

“Well done,” was all he said as he slowly inched their hands back to center.

“Very well done,” was what he said as he gradually pushed their hands down to her side.

“I’m impressed,” was his final statement as he gently tapped her knuckles against the wood.

Her hand went limp in his, but still he held on.

It was his win. She knew it was going to be. It was predicted. Expected. Typical. There was still a twinge of some kind in her mind, and also her heart. Her thoughts were growing cluttered and emotions of all sorts were crowding her.

In a rare moment of self-control, she simply said, “You won.”

“Yes, I did.” Still holding her hand, he asked, “Did you think it would be otherwise?”

She gave him a half shrug. That was noncommittal enough of an answer. But she couldn’t leave it at that. “There. I beat youwhen you weren’t your best, and you beat me at something I’m not best at. We’re even.”

Eyes and hands locked, he said, “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?”

He huffed. “It is.”

“Fine. We’ll have to settle this over a different challenge at a later time.”

“What kind of challenge?” he eyed her warily.

And that question sparked some interest in her. There were a plethora of options for how they could compete.

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