A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,56

she, and it was becoming a problem. “If we keep this up,” she said over the hammering of her heart, “we’ll come last.”

“It would be worth it. That was better than any whisky or new hat.” But he took her hand again and they started off once more, darting up and down paths.

After several minutes, he stopped. “Have a look from above.” He put his hands on her waist.

“That’s cheating!”

“Aye, so don’t be caught.” He gave a roguish wink. “Just peek over and see how far from the center we are.”

Choking on laughter, she nodded, and he boosted her to his shoulder with impressive ease. She clutched at his head, her fingers digging into his dark hair. He turned his face into her stomach and a shiver went through her. She could swear he kissed her there . . .

“How close?” he murmured, his lips moving against her belly.

Ilsa started—this must be madness; she’d completely forgotten about the maze, the race, the other people—and cautiously peered over the tops of the hedges . . .

Only to meet Bella’s startled gaze, from the far side of the maze. Obviously they weren’t the only ones ignoring the rules. With a wild burst of laughter she twisted, sliding down Drew’s body until her feet hit the ground. “This way,” she told him, clinging to his arm and barely able to get the words out.

“What happened?” His brows shot up. “Were you seen?”

“Aye,” she said with a wicked grin, “by your sister, obviously cheating herself. Come!”

This time they ran around a long curving bend, into and out of a dead end, dodging left, then right, and then right again. Drew squinted at the sky and tried to judge their direction, while Ilsa closed her eyes and concentrated on the view of the maze from the dining room windows before pulling him off to the right again, around several switchback turns, and finally—

And finally they burst into the clearing at the center of the maze, where the blue ribbon still hung from the raised hand of the stone statue of Vesta. Ilsa gave a whoop of delight; Drew snatched the ribbon in one hand, and then snatched her in his other arm.

“We make a good team,” he whispered, and then he was kissing her, hot and deep and utterly unabashed. Ilsa threw caution to the wind and kissed him back. Something vital deep inside her came alive when he held her. She speared her fingers into his hair and held his face to hers, kissing him as if she could devour him and somehow keep the glowing warmth he inspired burning in her chest.

She had no idea how long they stood wrapped around each other, but someone coughed loudly and ruined it. Ilsa’s head was spinning and her balance was off—she would have staggered and fallen if not for Drew’s arm around her waist—but she was still able to recognize the people who had discovered them: Mr. Monteith, looking smug, and Winnie, her eyes wide and her jaw slack.

Flustered, she stepped back, smoothing her hair. Drew seemed to have no such self-consciousness. He fluttered the ribbon in the air, and called, “I’m going to enjoy that new hat. Although I suspect it’s to be bought on my own account, aye?”

“Mrs. Ramsay, I do hope you’ll share the whisky,” drawled Monteith. “Since I wouldn’t be seen in the same room with any bonnet St. James might select.”

They all laughed, though Ilsa could feel her face burning. Bella and Mr. Kincaid darted into the clearing, and Bella set about scolding her brother for nefarious cheating. Drew asked what proof she had, which made her turn red, and then he laughed and tied the ribbon around Ilsa’s wrist with a large bow, giving her a smacking kiss on the hand. There was much laughing and teasing and indignant protest before they turned and began making their way out of the maze as a group.

The gentlemen led the way, heaping abuse on each other for their senses of direction, or lack thereof. Winnie and Bella fell behind, whispering furiously to each other. Ilsa felt awkward, walking alone in the middle. She tried not to wonder what they were saying. Winnie had seen her kissing Drew—Winnie, who was determined to find her brother a wealthy Scottish wife who would sponsor the St. James girls in London.

Ilsa acknowledged she might fit the first two requirements, but she knew nothing of London and had no desire to go there, and that was