She scowled, but her fierce expression went unnoticed as he glowered right back at her as he took in her state of attire. Or rather, her lack of clothing. “What are you doing outside in the snow without boots?” he demanded.
He unfastened his overcoat as he shot her a withering glare.
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop treating me like a child?” she demanded. She suspected she rather ruined her point by stomping her foot in the snow.
“If you want to be treated like a mature adult, then you must act like one.” He was muttering now, as though he was repeating it all out of habit. Which she supposed he was. They’d fallen into this same argument several times, and never once did he let her forget just how silly and immature he found her to be.
And the conversation always led back to that night. To one man. Sure enough...
“What was going on just now between you and Mr. Stallworth?” he demanded.
She started to reply that it was none of his business, but it was difficult to speak when he was wrapping his coat around her, bundling her inside the warm, heavy fabric. “What are you—”
But before she could finish the question, he’d swept her off her feet. Efficiently, easily, and with no-nonsense movements, he’d bundled her like a babe and was holding her in his arms as he carried her back into the warmth of the kitchen.
“Overbearing, controlling beast,” she managed to get out from where she was buried within the thick folds of his collar. His coat smelled like him—all leather and spice and something deliciously male. That combined with the body heat that was seeping in through the cloak.
She couldn’t quite bring herself to struggle out of his hold.
Instead she sniffed. “You’re impossible, has anyone ever told you that?”
“You have. Multiple times.” His tone was droll, dry. Utterly irritating in its conceited confidence.
“Yes, well, maybe one of these days you will learn to mind your own business and leave me alone.”
He set her down the moment they entered the warm kitchen. As he clutched the lapels of his coat and went to disrobe her of the garment, he met her angry gaze with a weary sigh. “Unfortunately for us both, when it comes to your reputation and safety…” He leaned in close and lowered his voice so the servants could not hear. “You are my business.”
2
Theo’s jaw clenched tight with irritation and frustration and...something else. Something he did not wish to name as he looked down upon his best friend’s little sister.
Sarah’s dark hair caught the light, accentuating its silky mass and highlighting little flecks of gold in the strands as she tilted her chin at an even more defiant angle.
Gads, she was stunning.
Her mouth, even pressed into a thin line of irritation, was full and lush, her eyes a warm brown framed with thick, dark lashes, and tilted just so at the corners.
Her nose was small with just the tiniest upturn. It might have been the one flaw that kept her from being complete perfection, but it also added an air of approachability to her otherwise flawless beauty.
He inhaled deeply and forced out a long, even exhale to try and calm this tension inside him. “Like it or not, Sarah, as my oldest friend’s sister, you are my responsibility.”
A flush of color stained her cheeks, likely due to her complete annoyance with him, as her brow drew further down. The color highlighted the creaminess of her skin and the pink of her lips that, even now, turned into a marked frown.
He irritated her. A fact he understood clearly.
Then again, she angered him to no end, as well, so they were even on that account.
Because as truly lovely as she was, she was also a ninny and a dunderhead. He’d continued to call her a child, which he knew bothered her. It was the easiest insult to keep distance between them, which he desperately needed. But truth be told, it wasn’t true. Any man with eyes could see she was a woman.
The kind who could steal a man’s heart before he’d even known it was gone.
Stunning as Sarah was, she was also rash, and thoughtless, and so hopelessly naive that she was bound to land herself in a whole heap of trouble.
She’d come close twice already that he knew of. Once, a year and half ago, and then again just now. It had been sheer luck that he’d arrived just in time to keep her from making a public spectacle of herself with that worthless rogue, Stallworth.
Or perhaps it was not luck but bad fortune. He’d never asked to be her protector and he cursed that house party eighteen months ago where he’d been forced to watch the whole wretched drama unfold.
Max might have asked him to keep an eye on Sarah when he ran off to the military, but it was Sarah’s silly behavior that had forced him to become...this. The ogre in the corner who chastened and lectured like some pious old matron.
He wasn’t the man she fawned over. No. He was just the one she blamed for ruining her fun.
Twice now he’d stopped her from completely destroying her life. And for thanks, what did he get? The full force of her wrath.
“Your responsibility?” Her voice was rising and several members of the staff stopped to watch. She had that knack. Drawing attention to herself. Which was why she needed to be watched over.
That was when he realized he still rested his hands on the lapels of his own coat, which, of course, draped over her shoulders. It meant that the heels of his hands pressed against her breastbone. Heat radiated from the spot where they touched.
He nearly removed them but to do so would outwardly show that she affected him. A fact he was trying very hard to conceal. “Yes. My responsibility.” He pressed his lips together to keep more words from bubbling forth. Words like, since you insist on being so foolish. But they’d only irritate her further.
He drew in a steadying breath.
By any standards, he shouldn’t be in charge of playing nanny to a lady.
First and foremost because he had a less-than-stellar reputation himself. But also because he likely shouldn’t be in charge of anyone’s future. He hadn’t exactly made the best decisions in his life.
Still. Max was the best friend he’d ever had and so, if he asked a favor, Theo would try. It made him tired just thinking about his own wayward past. Who was he to tell Sarah that she was making a mistake? Except the consequences were so much more dire for a woman.
“I don’t know what my brother said to you, but I can assure you, I don’t need his concern, and I certainly don’t need yours.”
She reached up to grip his wrists, his hands still on the collar of the coat, locking them together. Why did he have the distinct urge to kiss her? He pulled away a bit, weariness stiffening his limbs. This was the one woman in England he needed to leave alone.
Because she was Max’s sister and because she had no sense in her head and because...well. She was dangerous. “Really, Sarah? Because from what I can see you could use the help of an entire regiment in the British army.”
She huffed, her hands tightening on his wrists and her eyes scrunching as though he’d caused her actual pain. Regret lanced through him. “That isn’t true. Despite what everyone seems to think, I am old enough to care for myself.”
He sighed. Because watching her made him a bit tired.
Not her…but her situation. One where he could see her walking down the wrong path. Chasing a man who would never return her affection. Not really.