Page 14 of If The Fates Allow
Smoothing a hand down the skirt of her mossy green afternoon dress, Willa got ahold of herself. “The one named Jennie is the prettiest. My brother falls all over himself whenever she comes by with deliveries.”
“I noticed her.”
“It’s hard not to.” She tried to sound flippant and slightly bored. It wasn’t working. “Notice her, I mean.”
Turning around, the half-smirk that seemed permanently affixed to his mouth returned. “How was your conversation with Richards?”
Lucy had brought John Richards over twice, and both times were unmemorable. They spoke little, with him chatting more with her sister than with her.
“Lovely.”
“It didn’t appear lovely to me.”
“And I didn’t realize I had an audience.”
Amused by her quick reply, he came to sit on the sofa with her, taking up a significant amount of space. “If a man is near you, Willa, you should always assume you have an audience.”
If her brows shot up any faster, they would have flown right off her head and across the room. “I don’t know what you mean.”
And she didn’t. Truly. No man who had entered the kingdom of Haven House ever paid her attention. Nor had any man who she interacted with on visits to town.
His insinuation bordered on teasing, and Willa’s guard went up. Being ridiculed constantly by her father required her defenses to be at the ready every second of the day, and those well-worn walls of self-preservation slid into place easily.
Noah hesitated before speaking again. “I mean that it is difficult for a man’s attention not to gravitate towards a woman like you.”
“A woman like me?” Her temper snapped its teeth, preparing to take a bite out of him. “An invalid looming on the stairs, you mean.”
His smirk evaporated. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Isn’t it?” Chin high, she wouldn’t allow him to see how deeply his words cut. “Why else would any man—”
“Youcan’tbe serious.”
“—be drawn to watch—”
“Youareserious.”
“—a woman like me.”
He laughed.
Loudly.
It burst right out of him, booming as forcefully as the thunder had in the night. She tried to ignore it and keep a straight face rather than sigh over how his eyes crinkled in their corners when he was happy.
“I will have you stop laughing at me now, Dr. Anderson.”
The mischief in his gaze lingered, but he quieted. “I’m not laughing at you, but at me.”
When she didn’t respond, the gleam in those imposing blue eyes of his turned dark, almost predatorial. It reminded her of the look Bonnie’s cats got when there was easy prey within reach.
“And why are you laughing at yourself?”
Arranging the stethoscope in his ears, he placed the receiving end on her chest without warning or permission. One moment, he was sitting straight, and the next, he was leaning precariously close.
“Because it’s been so long since I’ve paid a woman a compliment, it would appear that I no longer have the finesse for it as I once did.” Hisbrows snapped together, a frown overtaking him while he listened. “Your heartbeat sounds rather erratic. Are you feeling alright?”
“Don’t do that.”
