“Tell me you know how to find our way out of here,” he said, stopping before a fountain presided over by a towering Helios statue.
The gentle cascading of the water was a soothing sound, and this was one of her favorite places to quietly read. A stone bench around the corner provided the perfect place.
“I fear we shall forever be trapped here, destined to be stuck among the boxwoods,” she could not resist teasing.
Everything was so easy with Robin. Their banter was light. Her days were filled with laughter and lovemaking. What would she do when this month was at an end? Her heart gave a desperate pang at the thought.
He tugged her into his chest, and she went willingly, releasing her hold on his hand to wrap her arms around his neck. “As long as you were trapped with me, I would not mind it, I think.”
She tipped her head back, studying him. “Alas, I do know my way out of the maze. Nothing lasts forever.”
“No.” He grew somber, his gaze dipping to her mouth. “Nothing seems to, at least nothing that is important.”
Was she important to him now? Did he feel the same blossoming love she did?
Tilly desperately wanted to know. She was also terrified to ask.
“Just beyond this maze is my favorite garden here at Coddington Hall,” she said instead.
“Your favorite? And you have not taken me there before now?” he asked, raising a brow. “I am wounded.”
“However shall I soothe your feelings?” Her fingers sank into the soft silkiness of his hair.
“A kiss may help.”
She rose on her toes and pressed a kiss to his temple. “There you are.”
“That was not quite the kiss I had in mind.”
She kissed his jaw, the bristles of his whiskers, grown since he had shaved that morning, tickling her lips. “Here?”
He took her chin in his thumb and forefinger, holding her in a gentle grasp, his gaze roaming hungrily over her face. “Are you using my own tricks against me?”
She smiled. “Yes. Are they working?”
“Despicably well.” He lowered his head and took her lips in a kiss that was voracious and carnal.
It was the kiss of two lovers rather than strangers. She opened for the sweep of his tongue. She hummed as desire, which never seemed to be absent in his presence, unfurled through her. Shamelessly, she rubbed her breasts against his broad chest, the abrasion of her peaked nipples on his waistcoat sending sparks between her thighs.
But there was no place to make love here on the gravel path, in between the rows of perfectly manicured boxwoods, and she would do well to remember it. It would seem Robin had the same thought, for he broke the kiss, gazing down at her with a rueful expression.
“You make me want to do wicked things.”
The decadent timbre of his voice made her shiver. She knew the feeling.
“Doing wicked things is rather the point of our time together, is it not?” she asked wistfully.
Wishing it were more.
Wishing it were forever.
Wishing she were not hopelessly trapped in an unhappy marriage to his uncle. How could the fates be so cruel? If she had made the acquaintance of Robin years earlier, she knew in her heart she would have chosen him above the need to appease her parents. The connection she felt for him was inexplicable and undeniable.
“I suppose it is.”
Did she detect a note of sadness in his voice, a shadow in his brilliant, sky-blue eyes? She thought she did, though it brought her precious little comfort.
“Come.” She stepped back, aiming for lightness once more. “I will show you both the escape route and my favorite part of the gardens, all at once.”
