Chapter 6

"You received a letter."

"I did?" Dani glanced at Aunt Fiona who had just entered the sitting room with their morning post. A tea service followed her in.

"Yes." She handed her a white envelope and Dani immediately recognised the handwriting from one of her friends.

"Oh, it's from Victoria Sinclair."

Fiona gave her a politely blank stare before taking a seat opposite Dani, picking up her knitting. The loose pile of stitching was looking suspiciously like a pair of orange stockings for Uncle George.

Dani tore open the envelope and pried the parchment from inside. Spreading it open on her lap, she began to read.

My Dearest Danielle

It feels like ages since I last saw you but I'm glad to inform you that Gabriel is absolutely wonderful. I honestly do not think he could make me any happier if he tried. As you well know, I had my doubts at one stage but he has proven most suitable as a husband and I can readily confirm that I am very deeply in love with him.

How are you faring in Cornwall? I'm told the county is very beautiful and I shall endeavour to visit you sometime soon in the future. Well, very soon to be precise.

A close acquaintance of Gabriel's is hosting a fall masque ball in the country for a select few of us. When I say a select few, I mean close to the entire set of the ton. It's to be quite the thing, I'm sure, and seeing as it is in Truro, I was hoping that you'd accompany us. Gabriel and I would be appropriate chaperones and I shall be arriving in Cornwall within the next couple of days in order to prepare for the event. I'm reserving your company for a shopping expedition at once as well as numerous fittings for our costumes.

I'm so excited to see you and very glad we have this excuse to spend some time together. Don't even think about replying in the negative, Dani, as I'll simply drag you off. If you use your poor old mother as an excuse not to go, that simply won't wash. I've devised a costume for you that will have enough black in it to suffice for your mourning period.

Yours fondly,

Vicky.

Dani grinned.

"It seems I'm to attend a ball," she told her aunt, who glanced up from her knitting and pushed her spectacles up her nose.

"A ball? Heavens, I don't have to attend, do I?" she asked.

"No that's quite alright," Dani reassured her. "Victoria and Gabriel

Sinclair will do the honours for you."

"Oh, lovely. That's alright then."

He was waiting for her.

For some reason, that made her immensely pleased.

He was leaning against a tree a few hundred metres away from Falmouth, his arms bunching and crossed over his vast chest. His legs were intersected at the ankles and his cloak was black and, as usual, hiding his face.

"Expecting someone?" she asked with a smile as she came to a halt in front of him.

"Yes," he drawled. "Perhaps you know her. A stubborn, persistent girl with a gorgeous freckle next to her nose."

Unconsciously, Dani touched the offending spot he mentioned then lowered her hand. "I don't know her," she told him. "I do know a stubborn, persistent girl with unbecoming freckles on her nose?"

He pushed off the tree. "There's nothing about you that's unbecoming, Danielle."

"That's nice of you to say," she murmured impishly. "But we weren't talking about me."

He chuckled. "I thought you'd like to see the gardens today," he explained as he moved towards her and joined her on the gravel road that led to Falmouth. "We have a maze."

Her smile turned mischievous. "I am very good at solving mazes," she said slyly. "So good, in fact, that no one can compare."

He began to lead the way and she fell in step beside him. "You're challenging me?" Rhys drawled. "An imbecilic notion considering the maze is on my property."

"Ah, but you've never seen me in action, my lord."

"I'm eager to witness this phenomenon."

She gave him an accessing look, wishing fervently she could see beyond the shadows of his face. There had to be a way to tempt that blasted shroud away from his person. She tried using the temptation of her body- pah! What temptation? She was as plain as could be. She served as no or very little incentive to any man to remove any item of clothing. Oh where had that thought come from? In her past life she must have been a fallen woman. Why else was she enticing a man she couldn't even see with promised kisses and thinking about others taking their clothes off for her? Fallen, indeed!

"Now you're teasing me," she grumbled, peeved by both his stubbornness and rejection, and by her own hussy thoughts.

"I'd never think of such a thing."

She snorted indelicately and studied her toes as they walked. Their boots crunched against the gravel as they wound towards Falmouth which loomed on the horizon. "Well, not on any normal day," he amended, sensing her mood was on a downward slope. He reached for her arm and slipped it into his, ignoring the startled yet immensely pleased look she sent him. The feeling of her fingers against his forearm, for all the innocence of the gesture, felt sinfully good. Any touch from her- her skin simply seared and moulded to his.

"This isn't a normal day?" she asked curiously.

"Any day where you feature is hardly normal," he remarked ironically.

"You know," she murmured slowly, "I think I might just take that as a compliment."

"You would."

"And that would mean," she continued, blithely, "that you've complimented me twice. So I can only conclude that you must like me. Or you're beginning to."

He'd certainly complimented her a lot more than that. The chit just had selective hearing when it came to things he said about her person. "Best I curb my tongue then," he teased.

"Oh, no, don't. I'm rather enjoying the praise and attention."

He stifled a laugh and glanced down at the top of her head. The sunlight caught in the strands, tinting them with alternating hues of gold and red. Just brown? He'd never seen such wonderful locks before, vibrantly alive with alternating colours and depths. Curly, too, if the lock that had escaped her simple coiffure and curled about the back of her neck was anything to go by.

From his elevated vantage point, Rhys had a rather good view of her bosom. Although her mourning dress was nondescript and did little to flatter her ripe and womanly figure, her breasts were ample enough to give him a pretty good idea about just what lay beneath the thick black fabric.

He decided right then and there that he had to stop torturing himself. After today, he couldn't see Danielle Carmichael again. His association with the determined miss had to come to an end and the only one to do so had to be him as she had made it abundantly clear that she'd have no such inclination.

He'd make it blatantly eloquent to her-later- that she couldn't see him again but... hell... he just wanted this time with her. Surely he was allowed that if he wasn't going to see her again?

As if sensing his dark thoughts, she tilted her head back and gave him a wide smile. His gut clenched.

Yes, he'd take just this day to enjoy her company and then he'd sever all ties with her.

In little time they arrived at the tall hedge walls of the Falmouth Maze. Slightly unkempt and overgrown, it was still something to behold. Dani craned her neck up the length of one of the entrances, shielding her eyes from the sun as she did so.

"There's another entrance round the other side," Rhys explained. "I'll leave you here, then I'll take that entrance. First one to the middle wins?"

She plunked her hands on her hips and turned to regard him. "Wins what?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "Twenty pounds?"

She snorted. "I don't have that kind of money at my disposal, my lord."

"A kiss, then."

She looked at him sharply. "Will you remove your cloak?"

"No."

She sighed dejectedly, crossing her arms under her breasts and tapping her foot as she thought it over. "Alright," she finally acceded. "But I am the judge of the length and, er, type of kiss."

"I'll accept nothing but your lips."

"Fine." She threw her hands in the air. "Can we get started please?"

"As you wish."

And she darted inside, not turning back to see if he had entered either.

It became apparent, after about half an hour that the Falmouth maze was larger than Dani had anticipated. It was, she reckoned, slightly overgrown and the hedges towered over her and cast dark shadows over many a path, but she was usually quite astute when it came to finding her way through one of these things.

She rounded a corner and... another dead end. The blasted maze was full of the things. It seemed that she had been running into them for well over half an hour and the frustration was beginning to choke her.

"Oh, for the love of God!" she swore furiously, stamping her foot in frustration. She had been running into dead ends ever since she had entered this sodding contraption and she even suspected that this dead end was the same one she had stumbled upon ten minutes ago.

"Having trouble, freckles?" came a distant, amused voice.

She turned towards it and peered through the thick leaves. "What did you just call me?" she demanded, peeved.

"Freckles," came the unrepentant response. "I rather like it. Suits you."

She growled something quite vehement under her breath. His answering chuckle made it quite apparent that he had heard.

"Where are you, you fiend?" she demanded churlishly. "I demand to know."

"It's quite nice in the middle, I assure you." A pause, then, "I eagerly await that kiss."

"You're not in the middle!" she yelled. "I'd wager a thousand kisses you're not! You can't be!"

"Wager accepted."

She gasped. "No! I take it back. Forget I said anything!"

"No, no... being a man of honour, I must hold you to your bet. A thousand kisses it is."

"Rhys!" she whined pleadingly, beginning to walk with more speed than before. She turned left, then the next left again, then right- A stream of fluent cuss words flew from her mouth.

"Lost again?"

"Are you following me, my lord?" she snapped, spinning on her heel and retreating. She turned left and followed the curve of the hedge until she found an opening, which she swerved into.

"And lose myself in the process?" he snorted. "Hardly. Your progress is being monitored by the tones of your voice and the vehemence of your blaspheming."

A rather unpleasant thought drifted through her mind about the man taunting her but she utterly refused to let it voice. "Then I shall strive for silence, my lord!" she barked.

"Ah, now where's the fun in that?"

"You mock me, my lord, and I fail to see the humour in this."

"I would never have guessed what a sore loser you are, freckles," he chuckled from somewhere deep within the maze.

Dani ignored that and broke into a trot, knowing it might render her

paralyzed with pain later but refusing to let the ornery man best her. Right, then right, then left... Oh for-

A frustrated shrill escaped her lips and she kicked the hedge in fury.

"Rhys!" she practically screamed. "You tricked me!"

His laugh was not in the least bit comforting.

She gave the hedge another kick for measure before pushing on, dipping and swerving several times until she reached yet another dead end. She sank to the ground and hugged her knees. "I give up!" she cried brokenly. "I'm lost!"

"Stay where you are," he told her succinctly. "I'm coming to get you."

She snivelled and laughed weakly. "Don't you need to follow the sound of my voice in order to find me?"

"I am."

She paused. "But then you'd have to keep me talking."

"You manage that perfectly well on your own," he returned flatly.

"Of all the rude, horrible, inconceivable-"

"See what I mean?" he laughed as he rounded the corner and came into sight.

Dani glared at him as he neared her and held out his hand to help her to her feet. "I'm quite angry with you," she told him.

"Just get up out of the dirt and come with me," he pressed gently with a small amount of good humour injected into his voice. He had a point, of that she couldn't refute. Reluctantly, and with another

glare to boot, she gave him her hand and he tugged her effortlessly to her feet. He didn't let go of her hand. Rather he turned her fingers within his own and laced their hands together before leading her back the way he came.

"I didn't trick you, you know," he said as he weaved her through the maze, tugging her left, then right, so many times that she lost count and track of where she was going, thus putting all her trust in the man leading her.

"I know," she sighed. "I was just frustrated. Usually I'm quite good at navigating these things."

"Smaller ones, no doubt," he assumed and his voice held a smile. "Falmouth's is quite large. Larger than most I have seen, anyway."

She made a disparaging sound in her throat and cast a sceptical glance up at the towering hedges. "Much larger," she agreed heartily. "Probably quite meditative and romantic if one wasn't in a race."

He made one last right turn and they were in the middle. A huge oak tree centred a lovely, welcoming green patch of lawn that was now overgrown. A wrought iron marquee sat underneath its sweeping branches, decorated with engraved ivy leaves and placed over an ornate stone bench. There was a fountain but it had long been put out of use and many rose bushes littered the edges, some dead and dying, but none blooming. Dani could well imagine the magical place the middle of the maze had once been and even now, in its state of disrepair, it was lovely to behold.

He brought her to a halt beside the bench and turned to her. "I'd like to collect on my debts," he told her wryly.

"There is no chance of that happening now!" Dani declared smugly. "How do I know you weren't lying about being in the middle? There is no proof-"

He pointed to an area behind him and Dani craned her neck over his shoulder. Amongst a few tufts of grass was a black, newly polished boot. She glanced down at his feet and found herself directly looking at one booted foot, the other only clad in one white stocking.

"You lout!" she cried, completely taken aback at how he had connived to best her. How could he have possibly known she'd demand proof? Unless he thought she would trick him... "Did you think I'd trick you into coming to find me, in the process refuting your claim to finding the middle before me?"

"The maze is much too large for me to have ever conceived of such a notion," he drawled. "It did cross my mind that you'd require proof, though."

She crossed her arms and glared at the offending piece of evidence. "I'm offended."

"You did just try to back out of our bargain."

"The fact remains-"

"Pucker up, freckles."

She gasped, affronted. "You, sir, are intolerably rude-"

He grabbed her shoulders and yanked her against him, bending towards her and Dani managed to catch a glimpse of a shadowed smile before he crushed his lips against hers.

All the breath rushed out of her body and she fell against him, clutching his arms as if he could support all her weight. Her legs turned to water and searing heat scoured the places where their bodies met.

He scraped his lips against hers teasingly, coaxingly, until she finally opened with a desirable shudder. His tongue dipped into her mouth, catching hers, sliding against her bottom lip, and Dani was lost. She moaned insensibly against his sensuous lips, pressing her body closer to his hard, solid form. Oh, God, she was going to burst into flame, she was sure of it.

She panted, she groaned, she sighed as his lips took command of her mind, body and soul. "Mmm," he growled against the corner of her mouth, his tongue flicking out to tease that particular crease. "You taste sweet, freckles. So..." another lick... "damn..." and another... "sweet."

"Oh God," she breathed, as his mouth began to kiss her face in various spots... and Dani realised he was kissing her freckles. Her knees buckled but he held her firm and then his lips were dragged to her ear to wreak havoc there. "Rhys!" she gasped, her fingers flexing into the skin of his arms as his tongue explored the sensitive crevices and ridges. His lips edged towards her neck, his warm breath entwining with the hair at the nape, and Dani thought she might die. Never, ever, had she felt such... heat, such need, a deep inexplicable yearning that she couldn't put words to.

She wanted to feel him, all of him, beneath her fingers. She needed to touch him, to feel his hair, to know what he felt like underneath her fingertips. She raised her hands over his shoulders, towards his neck-

"No!" he barked and lurched away from her.

She stumbled, disorientated.

He'd only taken a step back but the distance between them seemed to stretch for yards. Suddenly, she felt bereft, desolate, and she hugged her waist.

"You mustn't do that," he snarled.

She felt the anger pouring from him in waves. She swallowed against the hurt that was beginning to make her throat raw. Being unable to vocalise any thought or feeling, she just stared at him.

Uttering a guttural oath, he began to pace furiously. "We can't continue to do this, Danielle," he rasped. "I don't want you, I don't need you, and I won't marry you."

Each word was like a barb that pierced her heart, her body dizzy from the myriad of emotions tangling inside her. She'd only known him three days... it shouldn't hurt as much as it did. Surely? Why did it hurt? She knew he didn't want her or need her. He'd made that perfectly clear from the beginning. It wasn't as if she had wanted him... did she? She tried to study him objectively. How could she want a man she couldn't even see? Rhys was prowling the perimeter of the hedge angrily, with such power and force and agility... and yet he had clasped her to him with such yearning tenderness her body had ached for him.

She couldn't lie to herself. She did want him in the only primal sense she could think of. And he didn't want her.

"I don't want you invading my life like you have been," he was saying, ferociously, and Dani flinched. "I don't want you around me, I don't want you anywhere near Falmouth! Why can't you get that into your silly little head?"

She couldn't say anything even if she wanted to. She'd probably burst into howling yelps if she just opened her mouth.

He stopped and faced her.

"Damnit, Danielle, say something!"

And for some reason, the only thought that was swimming around her mind was: I won't marry you, I won't marry, I won't marry you! "I didn't ask you to marry me," she whispered. Horrified, she felt her cheeks dampen and raised her fingers to her cheeks to find the tears that she had been holding back were sliding down her face, unbidden. She fled, darting back into the maze, her vision blurred.

"Jesus, Danielle, wait!"

She ignored his command and continued to run. Miraculously, she only stumbled upon two dead ends before she burst free from the maze and ran home.

Rhys was on her heels and exited the maze seconds after her, just in time to see her run up the hill towards the road that would take her back to the village. In the mad pursuit after her, his hood had blown back and he angrily yanked it over his face.