Chapter Twenty Seven - Oh, What A Night

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The moment that I closed my mouth after that announcement, I thought for sure that Heath would return the favour and throw the bowl at my head but he just blinked silently at me, the chocolate tempting in its appearance.


"I am..." I started, looking over my shoulder in panic at Keira and River but it seemed that they would be of no assistance as the boys' mother turned away, tears running down her face, and River clutched at his stomach as he roared with laughter.


As Heath's shoulders began to shake, I reacted, unsure whether he was going to laugh, cry or start yelling.


Thanking the house for its slippery wooden floors, I threw myself through the space between his legs and began running – I figured that if I could make it outside, I could lose him.


I heard the slap of footsteps behind me but I ignored the compulsion to look back, even as I bolted past Mr Daimon. His eyes were wide and I clearly heard him yell to his oldest son, "Shouldn't you keep that kind of thing in the bedroom, Heath?"


Dear God! I could only hope that it was another joke because I was suddenly worried that Marcus was either seriously twisted or he had an extremely low view of my character since it had only been that morning when he had suggested to River that I needed to be wooed before he could carry me off.


The handle of the back door in sight, I threw myself to run faster and almost cheering in panicked excitement as I managed to leap from the house.


Of course I should have known that he was letting me escape, for a few pathetic steps later, I found myself gently tackled to the ground, Heath protecting me from the worst of the impact before he executed a twisting roll and pinned my body beneath his.


It was the same position as what River had caged me into before but this time, looking into Heath's dark eyes as he tried to ignore the chocolate drying through his eyelashes, all I wanted to do was close my eyes and pretend that he wasn't pressed against me.


We remained silent for a moment, neither of us looking away until I cleared my throat and began to wriggle meaningfully beneath him, "I think you can let me go now. I'm now as filthy as what you are."


His lips quirked up lightly, "You think so? You dumped a bowl of ganache over my head and then ran instead of apologizing."


Blood rushed to my cheeks, "Yeah," I coughed, "I'm so sorry. It was an accident."


"I could see that but why did you dive through my legs and bolt?"


"I panicked," I admitted with a squeak.


His slight smile changed to a frown, "Why? Did you think I was going to get angry?" He suddenly lifted himself off so that he could sit down crossed legged next to me.


I bounced up to match his position, my eyes warily watching him, "Well, yeah. A little bit. I mean, you were pretty furious when we got home earlier and I wasn't sure if you would throw the bowl at me."

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