When Two Hearts Meet (Brightmore #2)

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

They were not in the maze more than several minutes before Cole felt suffocated by the heat. It was as if the maze served as an oven, retaining whatever warmth the sun’s rays were able to permeate through the hedges. He halted by the entrance to a right turn, using the sleeve of his shirt to dab at the sweat gathering against his temples.

“It is hot,” Oriana pointed out needlessly, gazing up at him with a little frown puckering her lips.

“Indeed.” He laid his coat neatly on the ground at the entrance before shrugging out of his waistcoat.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced at her, wondering if she would take affront to his boldness. “I intend leaving some of my garments here,” Cole explained. “I’ll collect them later, but it is too hot now for me to continue in these blasted contraptions.”

“Oh.” She continued to watch him as he draped his waistcoat over his coat and then yanked the cravat from his neck, tossing it negligently onto the pile of clothing at his feet. He turned to her with his brows raised, rolling the cuffs of his sleeves to his elbows.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

She shook her head before a determined glint entered her eye. How he would love to know what she was thinking right at that moment. The creamy shawl about her shoulders loosened and then slid down her arms. She wound it through her fingers before dropping it atop his pile and throwing him a smile. “You are right,” she said simply. “There really is no point being any hotter than I already am.” She unrolled the lace gloves that covered her slim hands and wrists, raising her eyes at him questioningly. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Cole could have laughed at her audacity and barely stifled a chuckle. “Not at all, lest you forget that I have had the uninhibited pleasure of beholding you with much more than merely your gloves off.”

A violently red blush bloomed against the apples of her cheeks and she cast her eyes down, studying the pointed tips of her shoes. “What a horrible thing to do,” she mumbled, “to remind me of such a thing when I am only just coming to tolerate your company.”

The grin that crept onto his lips at the memory of her nakedness was self-indulgent imbibed with a touch of longing. Although he had been deep into his cups, Cole doubted he’d ever be able to forget the image of Oriana Brightmore naked and glorious in a dimly lit room, her skin aglow from the candles and the water that dripped down her torso and abdomen. “If it would still make the lady feel any better,” he told her huskily, “the offer of the previous evening still stands: an eye for an eye.”

Her eyes rose to his again and although therein humour lurked, Cole suspected that she was still somewhat shocked. “You mean to say that you’d completely… disrobe?”

His eyes must have spoken multitudes for she glanced quickly away, looking demure and lovely in her soft gown and golden hair. Every inch the lady, though within were hidden, unexpected surprises- like her temper and her quick tongue, her boldness and wit.

“We shouldn’t speak so,” she said, abashed.

“Why? Who’s about to hear?”

“Simply because no one is close by does not mean we should,” she told him primly, setting her gloves atop the shawl. “Perhaps we should continue to the middle.”

“Lead the way, my lady.” Chivalrously, he gestured forward with his arm, drawing her gaze to the jagged scar that ran up the inside of his arm towards the hollow of his elbow. A question entered her eyes but she appeared to think better of voicing it before striding past him purposefully. Her scent lingered in the air around his nose, arousing and subtle. He caught her wrist in his fingers, tugging her backwards gently.