Page 34 of Enticing the Devil
“You can’t walk on bleeding feet,” he grumbled thickly, still fighting through his fierce and unexpected desire.
“I can. I’ll be fine,” she protested even as her elegant hands gripped at his coat in an attempt to find purchase in his arms.
“We don’t have the time to argue this, Lady Anne,” he noted. “As it is, it’ll be fully dark by the time we find our way out of here.”
“We’ll find our way more quickly if you listen to me,” she muttered.
“Fine,” he conceded gruffly. The more intently they focused on the maze, the less likely he was to think on what had just occurred or the lovely weight and warmth of her body in his arms. “But I thought you said we couldn’t use your strategy once we left the entrance.”
“If you’d bothered to listen to me earlier, you’d know there’s more than one strategy.” Her expression managed to be smug and contrite at the same time.
Desire lit inside him once again. He forced himself to ignore it as he lifted a brow in question.
“I bent a branch anytime we entered a new passage. Two branches for any dead ends or if we found ourselves looped back to the initial mark. As long as we treat any double marks as an impassable wall, we’ll eventually find the right path to the exit.”
He wanted to be irritated and insulted by her lack of faith in him, but he couldn’t help but admire her obstinate cleverness.
“All right, then. Which way, Lady Anne?”
“We should start by heading back the way we came since we’ve passed this way twice already. But you really don’t need to carry me, Mr. Thomas. I imagine I’m quite a burden.”
He gave a short grunt as he started in the direction she indicated. “Less burden than a full-grown sheep.”
“Excuse me?” Her tone was only slightly indignant. “Did you just compare me to livestock?”
The flare of amusement was unexpected and he almost didn’t manage to tamp it down. “Might have.”
Silence followed for several more steps and he started to suspect he’d truly insulted the lady.
“Do you carry sheep often, then?”
He managed to shrug despite having her in his arms. She really wasn’t very heavy at all. Her unusual height coincided with a slight figure. “On occasion.”
“Why?”
The single word sounded genuinely curious.
“To bring them into the barn for clipping or to move them from one pasture to another.”
He didn’t have to look into her face to feel her wide-eyed surprise. “You move them all by hand?”
“Of course not.” His slid a glance to her then and gave her an intentionally dark gaze. “Just the stubborn ones.”
Something unexpectedly defiant flared in her eyes a moment before she gave a little harrumph and looked away.
It took more effort than it should have to resist the urge to chuckle.
#
WITH MR. THOMAS FINALLY following her directions, it only took another ten minutes to find their way free of the maze. Anne didn’t know if she should be grateful or regretful they made it out so quickly. The sensation of being carried against the solid breadth of the man’s chest was a singular experience. One she had no idea how to properly process through her senses as each one kept getting overwhelmed by turns.
Mr. Thomas was simply too much for her to take in all at once. The heat of his body and iron strength of his arms around her back and beneath her knees. The scent of him—dark, mysterious, and wonderfully rugged. The way his growly voice seeped through her flesh and blood to the depth of her bones. His profile, so harsh and unwavering against the dark rows of hedges they swept past. The taste of his kiss on her tongue.
She’d been so shocked in that moment when he’d leaned toward her, his large hand warm and strong around her nape, she’d barely had a moment to think on what was happening. She’d resorted to instinct as her eyes had closed and she’d held herself still and receptive, part of her afraid to do anything at all in case it might interrupt his intention.
The first lovely pressure of his mouth had been a revelation.
Anne had never been kissed before, but in all of her private imagining of what it might feel like, she’d fallen far short of reality. For a man with so gruff a manner, Mr. Thomas’s lips had been shockingly soft. The sensation had been not unlike the feeling of the finest silk rubbing across her lips.