Free Just Like Heaven by Julia Quinn Page B

said vehemently. “No. Believe me, that’s the last thing I’d want.”
    She crossed her arms. “Because I’m such a trial.”
    â€œNo .” Good God, how had the conversation deteriorated so quickly? “I am merely trying to help.”
    â€œI don’t need another brother,” she said sharply.
    â€œI don’t want to be your brother,” he shot back. And then he saw her again, rather, saw her differently again. Maybe it was her eyes, or her skin, high with color. Or the way she was breathing. Or the curve of her cheek. Or the little spot where her—
    â€œYou have dirt on your cheek,” he said, handing her his handkerchief. She didn’t, but he needed something with which to change the subject.
    Now.
    She dabbed at her face with the handkerchief, then looked down at the still snowy-white cloth, frowned, and dabbed again.
    â€œIt’s gone,” he said.
    She returned his handkerchief, then just stood there, giving him a sullen, stony stare. She looked twelve again, or at least was wearing the expression of a twelve-year-old, which was just fine with him.
    â€œHonoria,” he said carefully, “as Daniel’s friend—”
    â€œDon’t.” Nothing more. Just don’t .
    He took a breath, using the time to choose his words. “Why is it so difficult to accept assistance?”
    â€œDo you?” she countered.
    He stared at her.
    â€œDo you like to accept assistance?” she clarified.
    â€œIt depends upon who is offering it.”
    â€œMe.” She crossed her arms, looking somewhat satisfied with her reply, although for the life of him, he had no idea why. “Just imagine it. Imagine the tables were turned.”
    â€œAssuming it was a topic about which you had some expertise, then yes, I would be happy to accept assistance from you.” He crossed his arms, too, rather pleased with himself. It was a perfect sentence, placating and agreeable, and saying nothing at all.
    He waited for her reply, but after a few moments she just gave her head a little shake and said, “I have to get back.”
    â€œThey’ll be missing you?”
    â€œThey should have already been missing me,” she muttered.
    â€œThe twisted ankle,” he murmured. With a sympathetic nod.
    She returned that with a scowl and marched off. In the wrong direction.
    â€œHonoria!”
    She turned around.
    He took great care not to smile as he pointed her in the correct direction. “Bricstan is that way.”
    Her jaw tensed, but she just said, “Thank you,” and turned about. But she spun too fast and lost her footing. She let out a shriek as she tried to regain her balance, and Marcus did what any gentleman would instinctively do. He rushed forward to steady her.
    Except he stepped in that damned mole hole.
    The next cry of surprise was his, and somewhat profane, he was ashamed to admit. They both went down when he lost his balance, and they landed on the damp earth with a thud, Honoria on her back, and Marcus right on top of her.
    He immediately rose to his elbows, trying to take some of his weight off her as he looked down. He told himself it was to see if she was all right. He was going to ask her this once he caught his breath. But when he looked at her, she was trying to catch her own breath. Her lips were parted, and her eyes were dazed, and he did what any man would instinctively do. He lowered his head to kiss her.

Chapter Five
    O ne moment Honoria was upright—oh, very well, she hadn’t been upright, not completely. She’d wanted so desperately just to get away from Marcus that she’d turned too quickly, slid on the damp earth and lost her balance.
    But she’d almost been upright, and in fact would have been upright in mere moments if Marcus hadn’t come (quite literally) hurtling through the air at her.
    This would have been disorienting enough, except that his shoulder caught her