“Well, what?” Lucas placed his hands on his hips, drawing Meredith’s eye to the broad shoulders and trim waist he boasted.
“Er… has your mother added a clock to the maze of recent?” She shook her head, trying to dispel the feverish thoughts.
“Clock? No…” He rubbed his chin. “But a sundial! She added one last summer. It’s in the — wait, let me read this.” He snatched the missive from her hands. After reading it quickly, a smile broke through and as his gaze lifted to meet hers, merriment danced within. “I know exactly where this is. Hurry along or else I’ll be forced to carry you once more, only this time I’ll toss you over my shoulder. The maze being narrow and such.” He winked and ran off.
“Wait!” Meredith called, then fumed as he ignored her. Running as fast as her miserable corset would allow, she met him at the entrance to the maze.
“Stay close, it’s quite easy to find oneself lost within.” He wagged his eyebrows and held out a hand.
“As if I haven’t played in this very maze a thousand times,” she replied with a sarcastic hint to her voice.
“My mother changed it last year.”
“Pardon?” Meredith asked as they wound around the first corner, and just as he said, it was clear to see that her usual path through the maze was rerouted.
“It was a simple redesign, but she thought it would be a good change since we all have memorized the way out.”
“I’m assuming you know the rerouted exit?” she asked as they wound around another bend in the hedge. The night was thick with darkness; even the moonlight seemed small as the hedge closed in upon them. “Where are all the torches?”
“Yes, I know the exit. Must you even ask? And as for the torches…” A dark chuckle escaped his lips. “They have a nasty habit of lighting up that which needs to be more… private.”
“Oh.” Meredith felt her cheeks heat with his implication.
“Lucky for you, I’ll not take shameless advantage of cloak of night… yet. I’m far too interested in winning this contest. Then you’ll be subject to my company for far more than one evening’s diversion.”
“Lucky me.”
“Sarcasm does not become a lady.”
“Gentlemen do not—”
“There!” Lucas’ voice interrupted her remark and drew her attention to a small sundial on a pedestal. Sure enough, a moment later Lucas opened the envelope.
“I think this is the last one.” He cleared his throat and began to read. “Wine is sweet, and smooth indeed, but there is a deeper passion where it can lead.”
“The cellar!” Meredith exclaimed, and spun on her heel to find the little known hiding place.
“Not so fast.” Lucas grasped her hand before she could get away, and halted her escape.
Even in the darkness, his gaze smoldered as he slowly closed the distance between them. “I may have lied.”
“Lied?” Meredith felt her brow furrow even as her heart pounded with expectation at the expression in his eyes.
“Just a little.” He shrugged, his grin widening.
“About?”
“You see… I find I am quite impatient…”
“My, my, how this comes as a surprise.” Meredith tried to lighten the thick tension with humor, but it came up short.
“It’s quite lovely, you know… to be known so well by another.” His hand gently released her fingers and slowly trailed up her arm, sending shivers all throughout her body as his touch danced along till he reached her shoulder. Gently drawing her closer, she was captive in his gaze and stepped towards him.
“Oh?” Was all the intelligent response she could muster.
“Indeed.” His fingers traced her shoulder till they rested against the small of her back, closing the distance between them. “And as miserable as it can be to my pride, for you to know truly every trespass—“
“Since they were against me and my sisters,” she finished, unable to suppress the smile his words provoked.
“To have nothing to hide… no need to pretend. It is quite… freeing.” He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. “Intoxicating.”
“Threatening?” Meredith added, startled at her own admission.
He leaned away slightly, only enough to make eye contact. “Terrifying.” His gaze darted to her lips. He bent forward slightly then paused.
Waiting for her to meet him, to acknowledge the passion, to admit the attraction… to be caught, rather than simply chased.