Page 65 of A Lady's Heart Deceived
She would be right at home here in Denford Park. With me.
But not while his future lay so uncertain.
“We should have brought food with us,” said Maggie.
Now that was a problem he could solve. Piers quickly dug into the rucksack and produced a cloth bag. “Huzzah!” he cried, holding the bag aloft triumphantly.
This wasn’t his first-time night-gazing. Being out in the cold made a man hungry. He had paid a visit to the Denford Park kitchens earlier in the evening and begged them to show him a little kindness. The friendly servants had, of course, made good.
“I think you will find what you are looking for in there,” he said.
She took the bag, shaking her head in mock disapproval. “Of course, you brought food. What was I thinking? I also expect that there is a hipflask hidden somewhere in your coat.” The tone of her last remark held a certain level of expectation mixed with a thinly veiled threat. He had better have a hipflask with him.
Piers patted the sides of his coat, relieved when his hands touched the solid shape of the hidden object. He reached into his pocket, and with a flourish, produced the flask. While Maggie rummaged inside the bag for food, Piers helped himself to a stiff dram of whisky.
She unwrapped a cloth and sniffed at its contents. “Bacon and fried egg sandwiches. Piers Denford, you are a genius; these are my favorite.”
After removing her gloves, Maggie took a hold of one of the sandwiches and bit into it. She hummed her approval as she happily chewed away. When she had finished her first mouthful, she waved the sandwich at him. “It needs a touch of piccalilli to give it a little bite.”
“Piccalilli? I should try that some time, though I must say, I particularly like chutney in my bacon and egg sandwiches. I just wasn’t certain that you would, so I didn’t ask our cook to put any in,” he replied.
Piers removed his own gloves before gladly accepting the sandwich Maggie offered him. He handed her the flask in exchange.
The food kept them quietly chewing for the next short while. When Piers downed the last of his sandwich, he searched in the bag, and produced two napkins. While he waited for Maggie to finish, he wiped his hands and face.
Hot bacon and egg sandwiches. So delicious.
She stepped toward him and took the other clean cloth from out of his hand. When her fingers brushed against his, Piers sensed a shift in the mood. Maggie’s gaze went to his chin.
“You missed a spot,” she said.
His breath caught as Maggie proceeded to wipe his face with the napkin.
“You left a bit there too,” she said. The cloth moved closer to his lips, and Piers’s heart began to race. It had been some time since they had been this close. The moment was heavy with promise.
He leaned forward, their faces now barely an inch apart. “Anywhere else?” he asked.
She nodded and touched a fingertip to his lips. “There. Especially there.”
His hands were in her hair in an instant, holding her to him as he claimed her mouth with a deep, passionate kiss. Temptation had left him hungry, yearning for her. For the taste of Maggie. Their tongues met in a fevered, needy tangle. There was nothing polite or graceful about this embrace; it was messy, desperate, and he wanted it to go on forever.
Maggie clung to Piers like a limpet. Her hands were tightly fisted as she gripped the lapels of his coat. Over and over, they worked their lips and mouths together in a glorious kiss that took his breath away.
When they finally did break apart, they were both sucking in air. One brief exchange of glances and they were back kissing one another again.
Piers couldn’t care less about the stars or the glory of the heavens which shone above—he just wanted Maggie. Every inch of her.
The first drop of rain landed in the middle of Maggie’s forehead. Lost in the toe-curling kiss, she ignored it. Then came the second, followed by the flash of lightning which lit up the sky. A low rumble in the distance heralded oncoming thunder. She and Piers broke apart just as the heavens opened.
“You get the blanket. I’ll get the telescope,” he cried.
Maggie scurried around, quickly snatching up the blanket and tossing it over her arm. While Piers collapsed the telescope and tripod, Maggie took a hold of the rucksack. She held it open, and he stuffed the precious instrument inside. She added the blanket to the pack and as he hoisted it on his back, she picked up the lantern.
The rain was now coming down in torrents. “We are going to be drenched if we try to make it back to the main house. We had better head to the barn,” he said.
Maggie’s romantic notions of getting caught in the rain evaporated as they sprinted through the wild tempest. By the time they reached the barn, they were both thoroughly drenched. Piers threw the bolt back and wrenched the door open. Maggie dashed through it with Piers following close behind.
“Oh, that’s a relief,” she sighed.
