“Ah. Well…” Karl’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “Ah…oh, look, here we are at Hampton Court already.”
“How providential.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, turning around in my seat to glare at Alex.
“I’m sorry, I can’t talk to you now, I’m working,” he said, his fingers dancing over his laptop’s keyboard.
“Hrmph.” I turned back to Karl and caught the vestiges of a smile passing between the two of them. Men. They’re so childish. “Karl, I want to know what you think, and I want to know now. I’m not getting out of this car until you tell me.”
He chanced a quick glance at me and sighed. “Give me a moment to find a parking spot.”
I could have sworn I heard a soft “Delaying won’t do you any good,” from the back seat, but when I looked, Alex was still busily typing away.
Five minutes later I pinned Karl to the wall, metaphorically speaking. “So?”
He took my right hand in both of his. I watched his lips move as he spoke, and wondered why Karl could hold my hand, stroking the top with one hand, and rubbing my fingers with the other, without stirring the slightest bit of feeling other than the desire to tell him to stop waffling and get on with what he was going to say, whereas the slightest brush against Alex’s hand sent waves of heat billowing over me. He had actually given me goose bumps once or twice at Windsor when we were walking and inadvertently touched.
“—so my thought would be that you might want to add in a bit more description.”
“Huh?” I recalled my mind to where it was supposed to be. “You think I need more description? Details, you mean?”
“Take that scene you just read to us. You describe the gentleman’s billowing shirt, but nothing about where the two people are standing, whether it was hot or cold, what their surroundings were like, how they were feeling—say whether they had a toothache, for example. People in that time had terrible dental hygiene, and many of them lost most, if not all, of their teeth by the time they were into their early thirties, so constant toothache would not be out of the question.”
“Oh.” Toothaches? He wanted me to give Rowena bad teeth? No romance heroine ever had bad teeth! Or body odor, for that matter, it just wasn’t heroine-like. “Description. OK, I can see what you’re saying. Maybe talk about the environment a bit more? Like if it’s raining or something?”
“Exactly,” Karl said with obvious relief. “And now, Hampton Court awaits, my lady. If you will avaunt this way, I shall be delighted to escort you to the royal apartments.”
I looked back to where Alex was tucking his laptop away in the leather satchel. “How come you never talk like that to me?”
His raised eyebrow spoke volumes.
Where Windsor Castle was magnificent and awesome in its size and strength, Hampton Court was seductive and elegant. We joined the queue and took the tour through the many rooms available to the public, including a visit to the Tudor Kitchen that inspired me to think about writing a medieval romance. In the Georgian Rooms there was a demonstration of Georgian dancing, which was a bit early for my book, but fascinating nonetheless. By the time we’d spent three hours tootling through the palace, we were dragging. There was one more thing I had to see, however.
“Come along, gentlemen,” I said, heading off in the direction a sign pointed. “We have to see the maze. No lagging, now! We’ll have a maze race.”
I stopped and looked back to where the two men were plodding along slowly.
“Alix, it’s sweltering out, and we’ve walked at least twelve miles today, so why don’t we leave the maze for another time?”
I frowned. “The maze is famous, Karl! Famous! Everyone visits the maze. I didn’t come halfway around the world not to visit the famous maze! So get those loins girded, and let’s get cracking!”
Alex veered to the left. “There’s a restaurant over there in the old tiltyard—why don’t Karl and I wait for you there while you see the maze?’
I felt like stamping my foot, but decided it would look too petulant. “You don’t understand. The fun in seeing the maze is seeing it with someone. I read about it in a London tourist paper—you’re supposed to make a bet with each other to see who can make it through the maze first. I can’t race myself, so one of you is going to have to come with me.”
Alex looked at Karl. Karl looked back at Alex. “You wanted her, you can take her through the bloody thing,” Karl said.
I stood, frowning, while Alex looked me over. He looked hot and grumpy, but that was no excuse for what he said next. “I’ve changed my mind. She’s all yours.”
“Alex!”
“No, no, I wouldn’t dream of usurping your place,” Karl said, backing away and holding out his palms as if Alex was going to dump me on him. “According to Alix, you’re the one who peeled her knickers off, so she’s yours by right.”
“Hey!” I made the meanest eyes possible at Karl. He ignored me.
Alex rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he cast a longing glance at the restaurant tucked away behind a tall hedge. “I haven’t actually claimed her as such, so technically, she’s open to all comers.”
“ALEX!” I shrieked, garnering attention from nearby tourists. I lowered my voice to a hiss and walloped him on the arm. “You have too claimed me—not that I’m a possession to be claimed, mind you, but you have nonetheless, even if we discount that night when all of the underwear peeling was going on, so there’s no technicality about it!”
Alex grinned at me, an act that stopped me right in the middle of my rant.
“You’re attracting attention again, Alix.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m going to make you pay for this, Alexander Black, just you see if I don’t.”
He laughed—he actually threw his head back and laughed at my threat—but at least he took me by the hand and started off toward the maze while Karl made a beeline for the restaurant. I waited until Alex’s laughter had run down, then asked him what he wanted to wager in our maze bet.
“It’s traditional that the winner stand the loser a round of drinks at a pub.”
An idea occurred to me as he spoke. I examined it for a moment, decided it was feasible, it was good, it was meant to be, and pulled him to a stop outside the gate at the maze.
“That’s a bet for wusses,” I said, trying to keep the gleam of anticipation from my eyes. To catch your victim, first you must bait the trap. “Why don’t we make a real bet? Something that matters?”
“What did you have in mind?”
Step into the parlor, my little fly. “Well,” I drawled, glancing at the opening to the maze. I had always been very good at paper mazes, and the maze at Hampton Court was nothing more than a three-dimensional version. It was almost a done deal that I would beat him through it. “I thought we could each have our own wager, a boon to be given by the loser. For instance, if you wanted me to buy you a round of drinks if you win, why then, that would be my boon to you. If I win, however”—my eyelids half closed seductively—“you would grant me a different boon.”
His eyes glittered at me. Go ahead, my sweet, you know that curiosity is driving you wild. Ask.
“And what boon would you ask of me should you beat me through the maze?”
Ah, my darling, the possibilities I have in mind for us.…I put a finger to my lips in apparent thought, then donned my best cat-into-the-cream smile. “If I win, you will spend the night with me.”
His eyebrows shot up.
“All night.”
His eyes turned dark.
“Naked. In my bed. Doing whatever I want you to do.”
A slow smile curled his luscious lips. “Very well,” he nodded, “I agree to your boon.”
I blinked at him, startled by the ease with which he agreed. I figured I’d have to force him into accepting my terms. “Oh. Well…that’s good. Shall we go? First person to the center wins, or first person to the center and out wins?”
He put a hand on my arm
to keep me from entering the maze.
“Just a moment—you haven’t asked what I want from you if I win.”
I leered. “Does it involve well-oiled, naked flesh?”
The smile reached his eyes. “No. It doesn’t.”
I pretended to pout. “Your loss. So what boon do you want from me if you win, not that it’s likely you’ll win, mind you, ’cause I’m really good at mazes?”
He pulled a strand of my hair from where it had plastered itself to my hot forehead. “I believe I will reserve the right to declare what I will ask as a boon until I win.”
I frowned. “That’s not fair. I told you mine, you have to tell me yours.”
The two faint dimples appeared in his cheeks. “Afraid you’ll lose?”
“No, of course not. I just told you I was good.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?”
He had me there, blast his delectable hide, but I didn’t have to like it. I stuck my hand out and he gravely shook on the wager; then we decided that the first person to the center and out of the maze would win. I stood for a moment before the maze opening, my eyes closed, my senses attuned to my surroundings, hoping for a bit of psychic guidance. It was hot even in the shadows cast by the tall hedges of the maze, and the sheer numbers of tourists trekking through the gardens and maze made it impossible to catch any scent of flowers or plants, but I did my best to commune with Mother Nature.
I hit the maze running at full speed, dodging around clumps of people as they stood laughing and calling to one another. I made a couple of wrong turns at the beginning, but by the time I worked my way through to the center, I was confident that I made up for my errors with my speed. Even if Alex got all of the turns right—which would be impossible—I was still faster than he. I dashed toward the exit, whipping around corners and bumping into one or two people, trailing apologies behind me as I planned just exactly what I would do to Alex when I had him in my bed.
He was waiting for me at the exit.
“You…what?…hey, you…cheated…” I panted, grasping a nearby bench to keep from collapsing in the heat. He looked a bit hotter than he had before, but he wasn’t even breathing hard. “You…didn’t go…in…”
“Shall I describe the heart of the maze for you?” he asked, another one of his Cheshire-cat smiles gracing his lips.
“Yes,” I snarled. He did, including the description of two elderly tourists into whom I had almost run. Twice. Dammit, he had been to the center and back before me.
“All right,” I pouted, visions of a lovely, smut-filled evening evaporating in the warm amber of the afternoon sun. “Fine. You win. What’ya want from me?”
He held out his hand. I thought about refusing to take it, but I liked holding his hand too much. I held on to my pout, however, as he tugged me toward the nearby restaurant. “I want you to go to dinner with me.”
I peered at him, every nerve screaming a suspicious warning. “Just dinner? With you? Where?”
He smiled. “I want you to come with me to dinner at a friend’s house. Probably tomorrow night, if I can arrange it, otherwise sometime next week.”
“What friend? Is this a weirdo friend, someone I won’t like? Does she eat repulsive things like grubs and such? Because I can tell you right here and now, I don’t do grubs.”
He chuckled his sexy chuckle, the one that makes my innards go all quivery. “I can assure you there will be no grubs. My friend is a man, an author, quite a well-known one in his field. I thought you would like to meet him.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, pulling on Alex’s hand to get him to turn around. An author? He was going to introduce me to a real author? I was flabbergasted. “Alex, that’s—I don’t know what to say. That’s very sweet of you. Very sweet. I’d love to meet a real writer, especially if he’s a friend of yours.”
Our gazes met and caught. A familiar flicker of heat started deep within me, making me take a step closer to him. Of its own volition, my hand moved up his bicep to his shoulder as his arms slid around behind me. The heat of the sun was lukewarm compared to his mouth, his lips branding mine with his passion and desire. Just as I opened my mouth beneath his to taste him, a highpitched titter shattered the moment of intimacy.
“I’ve never before met a woman who gets such pleasure out of public scenes.” Alex shook his head a moment later, after he had pried me off his chest. I shot a glare full of annoyance at the group of girls who stood snickering at us, then turned back to Alex with a grin.
“You’re learning, sweetie, you’re learning. I have high hopes for your complete and utter downfall into the status of a mere human being.”
One sleek chestnut eyebrow rose in question.
“Very high hopes,” I grinned.
“How did you get through the maze so quickly?” I asked Alex an hour later, when we had returned to Karl’s car and were on our way back to Beale Square.
Alex punched a few keys on his laptop, then spun it around to face me. I read the web page that was displayed.
“You rotter! You did cheat! That’s not fair—you knew the key to get through the maze!”
He grinned as Karl gave a hoot of laughter. I glared at both of them.
“You didn’t say anything about not preparing for the visit. I like to know what I’m going to see before I get there.”
“Anal,” I told Karl. He nodded.
“Alix—”
I ignored the warning growl and chatted happily with Karl the rest of the way home. The day had turned out better than I had expected, with Alex and me reaching an understanding (of some sort—I still wasn’t exactly sure what it was), and the promise of a meeting with a real author to look forward to. And then there was that night.
I had plans to challenge Alex’s win, demanding that he pay me the boon I deserved by being the first noncheating person through the maze. Once we arrived home, I thanked Karl profusely for taking us out, and made him promise he’d save an upcoming Saturday night so I could repay him by cooking my famous killer lasagna for him. As I trotted up the front steps and past Alex, who was politely holding the stroppy door open for me, I smiled my most enticing smile and tipped my head to the side.
“Could I interest you in dinner tonight, hmm? Just the two of us? I have a delicious-looking recipe for chicken and olives that I’m dying to try out.”
Alex was shaking his head even before I finished speaking. “I can’t, Alix. I have to finish the report by tomorrow morning. As it is, I will have to work all night on it because I spent the day with you.”
I stomped up the stairs until I reached my door, glaring at my purse as I fumbled for my keys, and then lied through my teeth. “It’s just dinner. I wasn’t planning on seducing you, you know. Even workaholics like you have to eat sometime.”
Alex stood so close behind me I could feel his heat.
“I wish I could, but this is an important report. Without it, we can’t proceed further on charges against a man running a pornographic Internet studio out of his house.”
“Well, I certainly don’t get into porn,” I said as I opened the door to my flat, stepping aside to avoid the wave of heat from inside, “but I don’t see that a delay of an hour or two while I tempt you with olives and chicken is going to hurt anyone.”
“It’s not that at all—”
I tossed my bag, notebook, and hat onto the side table and turned to face him. “After all, what is porn? It’s just a little sex that other people are paying to watch. I agree it’s tacky and tasteless, but who is it really hurting?”
He put both hands on my shoulders and leaned forward to kiss my nose. “This particular man uses children.”
Children? My stomach roiled at the thought. I blinked at Alex for a moment, then slid my hands behind his neck and kissed a spot just next to one corner of his mouth. “Ick. That’s different. You need to get that guy closed down and in jail as soon as possible.”
He nodded, and feathered a line of kisses along my jaw.
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“OK, I’ll excuse you for the evening, but as soon as you’re done with this report—”
“I’ll knock you up,” he finished.
I stared at him, wondering if he knew just what that phrase meant to Americans, then decided he did when the corners of his mouth curled up. He leaned forward for what I knew was going to be a kiss that would turn my legs to jelly. I slipped backwards, out of his arms, placing a finger on his lips as I did so.
“I think not. I want to give you an inducement to finish early.”
He kissed my finger, then picked up his satchel and headed up the stairs. I went into my hot little oven of a flat and melted, but it wasn’t due to the heat of the day—it was the promise in Alex’s eyes that left me feeling singed around the edges.
It was difficult to write after that. Guilt over trying to pry Alex away from his job battled with blatant lust when I thought of all the things I had planned for him, but the guilt won out (it usually does), so I didn’t call upstairs the half-dozen times I wanted to.
“He’s busy catching pedophiles and child molesters, and all you can think of is how you want to jump his bones,” I lectured myself as I fired up my computer and loaded the latest version of my work in progress. “Poor little children abused and scarred for life, all depending on Alex to save them, and your sole thought is to wonder how many positions of the kama sutra you can talk him into.”
Erotic visions of Alex naked, with my legs wrapped around his waist as we perfected Kirtibandha (the Knot of Fame) danced through my mind, but I am not one to be swayed by thoughts of a little pleasure when there’s work to be done.
“Nose to the grindstone,” I told myself, and decided, after some thought, that poor Raoul and Rowena deserved a full-fledged love scene in which to demonstrate just how perfect for each other they were. Several hours later, I was deep in the middle of it when I was distracted by a quiet knock at the door. I padded barefoot over to the door, a surge of hope swelling that it was Alex there to seduce me, but knowing it couldn’t be.