“Me?”
“Are you ready to live again?”
The question hung suspended on the air like a spider’s silken web. This was no simple question and she knew it. If she said yes, he’d kiss her. She could see it in his eyes.
Emma sucked in a breath, swallowed hard. “Yes, I do believe I am.”
She swayed toward him, her eyelids drifting downward. But he surprised her by taking a step back. “Then come with me, Emma. Let me show you the pleasures to be found at Chatham Park.”
Oh, my.
Keeping her hand in his, Dair led her from the kitchen and out of the house. She wondered where he was taking her. To the stables for a ride to an isolated part of the estate, perhaps? Or maybe back to the fish pond they’d visited yesterday? Surely not to the lawn where the rest of the visitors gathered. He’d take her somewhere private, wouldn’t he?
Dair led Emma to the opening of the garden maze.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, eyeing the roses and honeysuckle surrounding the rectangular-shaped structure. And definitely private. Extremely private. Was she really going to do this? Step into a maze with this man? Alone?
He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. Emma’s knees went watery. Yes. She was really going to do this. Oh my oh my oh my. She swallowed her misgivings and smiled. “The maze is huge, too. I can see from my bedroom window.”
“It covers almost two acres. It’s easy to get lost inside, Emma. Are you certain you’re up to my game?”
Game? Her blood humming, the adventurous Emma arched a brow. “Just what is your game, sir?”
He smiled, and Emma was reminded of one of his choices of snow globe: the wolf. “It’s a contest, of course. If you can find your way to the Greek temple replica at the center of the northern section of the maze you will win the prize.”
“What prize?”
“Hmm…how about your choice of snow globe?”
This was Jake Kimball’s home, not Dair MacRae’s. “Are they yours to give away?”
“In this instance, yes.”
It was a curious remark, but before she could question him further, he distracted her with a caveat to his contest. “Of course, we shall need a time limit or you may be wandering this maze until dark. Shall we say…fifteen minutes?”
Emma frowned. “But it’s a two-acre maze.”
“I’ll give you hints whenever you request. However, such hints don’t come free.”
“Oh?” Her gaze fastened on his mouth. “And exactly what do they cost?”
“That depends on how lost you are, my dear.” She narrowed her eyes and he laughed. “My price will be a kiss.”
She circled her mouth with her tongue. “That’s a very bold suggestion, Mr. MacRae.”
“I’m a bold man, Mrs. Tate. The question before us is how bold a woman are you?”
Emma’s pulse sped up. Her mouth went dry. An idyllic garden. He was the serpent. She was the tempted. Tempted with a capital T. If she did this, if she threw away all her good sense and embraced her inner Menace, then she couldn’t later cry foul or indulge in regrets or remorse.
Remorse? The only remorse she’d have is if he didn’t kiss her. Touch her. Hold her.
This was her chance. Here in England so far from home, she could indulge herself. She could do something shocking and no one need ever know. She could throw off the mantle of being Widow Tate and be a Menace again. Be Emma. The old Emma. The Emma who wasn’t boring, but fun and exciting and…wicked. The Emma who wasn’t about to turn thirty with no man, no babies, no life.
Emma didn’t want to be selfish, but right here, right now, she couldn’t help it. She was glad Mari had found her happy ending. She mourned for Kat’s horrific loss. But right now, as her birthday roared toward her, she wanted to worry about herself for a change. She wanted to end the boredom. Pull a true McBride Menace prank. She wanted to rob another train or steal another horse or…
Or walk into the garden maze with a dangerous man.
“Emma?”
What
“Are you ready to live again?”
The question hung suspended on the air like a spider’s silken web. This was no simple question and she knew it. If she said yes, he’d kiss her. She could see it in his eyes.
Emma sucked in a breath, swallowed hard. “Yes, I do believe I am.”
She swayed toward him, her eyelids drifting downward. But he surprised her by taking a step back. “Then come with me, Emma. Let me show you the pleasures to be found at Chatham Park.”
Oh, my.
Keeping her hand in his, Dair led her from the kitchen and out of the house. She wondered where he was taking her. To the stables for a ride to an isolated part of the estate, perhaps? Or maybe back to the fish pond they’d visited yesterday? Surely not to the lawn where the rest of the visitors gathered. He’d take her somewhere private, wouldn’t he?
Dair led Emma to the opening of the garden maze.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, eyeing the roses and honeysuckle surrounding the rectangular-shaped structure. And definitely private. Extremely private. Was she really going to do this? Step into a maze with this man? Alone?
He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. Emma’s knees went watery. Yes. She was really going to do this. Oh my oh my oh my. She swallowed her misgivings and smiled. “The maze is huge, too. I can see from my bedroom window.”
“It covers almost two acres. It’s easy to get lost inside, Emma. Are you certain you’re up to my game?”
Game? Her blood humming, the adventurous Emma arched a brow. “Just what is your game, sir?”
He smiled, and Emma was reminded of one of his choices of snow globe: the wolf. “It’s a contest, of course. If you can find your way to the Greek temple replica at the center of the northern section of the maze you will win the prize.”
“What prize?”
“Hmm…how about your choice of snow globe?”
This was Jake Kimball’s home, not Dair MacRae’s. “Are they yours to give away?”
“In this instance, yes.”
It was a curious remark, but before she could question him further, he distracted her with a caveat to his contest. “Of course, we shall need a time limit or you may be wandering this maze until dark. Shall we say…fifteen minutes?”
Emma frowned. “But it’s a two-acre maze.”
“I’ll give you hints whenever you request. However, such hints don’t come free.”
“Oh?” Her gaze fastened on his mouth. “And exactly what do they cost?”
“That depends on how lost you are, my dear.” She narrowed her eyes and he laughed. “My price will be a kiss.”
She circled her mouth with her tongue. “That’s a very bold suggestion, Mr. MacRae.”
“I’m a bold man, Mrs. Tate. The question before us is how bold a woman are you?”
Emma’s pulse sped up. Her mouth went dry. An idyllic garden. He was the serpent. She was the tempted. Tempted with a capital T. If she did this, if she threw away all her good sense and embraced her inner Menace, then she couldn’t later cry foul or indulge in regrets or remorse.
Remorse? The only remorse she’d have is if he didn’t kiss her. Touch her. Hold her.
This was her chance. Here in England so far from home, she could indulge herself. She could do something shocking and no one need ever know. She could throw off the mantle of being Widow Tate and be a Menace again. Be Emma. The old Emma. The Emma who wasn’t boring, but fun and exciting and…wicked. The Emma who wasn’t about to turn thirty with no man, no babies, no life.
Emma didn’t want to be selfish, but right here, right now, she couldn’t help it. She was glad Mari had found her happy ending. She mourned for Kat’s horrific loss. But right now, as her birthday roared toward her, she wanted to worry about herself for a change. She wanted to end the boredom. Pull a true McBride Menace prank. She wanted to rob another train or steal another horse or…
Or walk into the garden maze with a dangerous man.
“Emma?”
What
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