His chuckle sloughed against her lips. “You look like you’re awaiting your own execution.”
“Just take your stupid kiss, Davies.”
“Very well. But there are certain stipulations. It has to last for at least ten seconds. And you have to kiss me back.”
“All right.”
Her stomach somersaulted as he leaned in. This close she could see the dark tangle of his lashes, the fine grain of his skin. His green eyes were dark, brimming with challenge, but she held his stare defiantly. To look away would be to admit defeat.
“Do you remember playing hide-and-seek in the woods?”
Harriet blinked at the unexpected question.
Of course she remembered.The incident—and the nagging sense of having missed a golden opportunity—had haunted her for years.
The Davieses and Montgomerys had played togetheras children on numerous occasions back in Wales, despite their traditional enmity. Most of the games had, admittedly, been combative in nature, and almost all had included an element of goading and challenge, but this particular day all seven of them—the four Davies siblings, plus Harriet, Maddie, and Tristan, had agreed to an impromptu game of hide-and-seek in the woods.
Harriet had been fifteen or so, Morgan a year older—too old, really, for childish games, but when Gryff had been chosen as the seeker, and started to count to a hundred, they’d all scattered into the trees.
Harriet had known just where she would hide: the half-ruined folly near the river. She hitched up her skirts and scrambled through the woods, her heart racing with the primitive thrill of being hunted.
The folly was a shambolic maze of half-tumbled walls and moss-covered stairwells. Some long-dead Davies had built it as an architectural joke, a “castle” left deliberately unfinished as a picturesque setting for picnics and a talking point for guests. Only one tower still had a roof. Huge ferns sprouted from between chunks of masonry as nature slowly reclaimed the ruins.
Panting and out of breath, Harriet ducked beneath an arched cornice and squeezed into the narrow gap between two parallel walls. The leaf-strewn tunnel was dark, and she almost screamed when a scrabbling noise sounded above her, and a rain of pebbles pattered on her head.
She glanced up, expecting to see an animal, but Morgan dropped into her hiding place. He landed in front of her with the easy grace of a panther and she pressed back against the moss-covered wall in alarm.
“Get out of here!” she hissed furiously. “Go and find your own hiding place.”
He raised his forefinger to his lips with an infuriating smile. “Shh. Gryff will hear. He’s coming.” He stepped closer. “Move over.”
“There isn’t room for two, you idiot.”
“Of course there is. We just have to squeeze together.” His eyes glinted with wicked humor as he slid his body into the gap behind her, deftly wedging himself into the narrow space between her and the wall.
Harriet gasped in outrage. Her front was crushed against the cool, mossy stones, and Morgan’s chest was hot and hard against her back. She could feel his ribs rising and falling as he breathed.
Her cheeks burned, despite the coolness of the shadows. They were sandwiched together like two sardines in a tin, and she was excruciatingly aware of the way her bottom fitted perfectly into the lee of his thighs.
The crunch of approaching footsteps made her catch back her scold.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
Gryff’s singsong voice echoed round the clearing.
Harriet clapped her hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t give away their hiding place, but still almost squeaked in surprise when Morgan slid his arm around her waist. He tugged her against his body, silently drawing them even farther into the shadows.
She’d never dared venture so deeply down this tunnel—she’d always been afraid of disturbing a badger, or bats, or some other dreadful thing, but Morgan had no such compunction. He’d always been braver than her.
Gryff’s footsteps rustled the fallen leaves outside and Harriet squinted along the narrow tunnel. Would he see them back here in the darkness? She caught a glimpse of his blue jacket as he passed their hiding place and triedto stay completely still, but her pulse was pounding at the feel of Morgan’s arm banded around her waist.
They’d never been this physically close before. His left hand rested on her hip and the heat of him burned through the layers of her clothes. He smelled of pine resin; he must have leaned against a tree and crushed the sap into his hands. The pleasant, woodsy smell tickled her nose and made her go weak at the knees.
When his chin brushed her shoulder, her heart almost seized as his steady exhale fanned the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck.
“Shh!” he breathed again, right in her ear, and her stomach somersaulted in wicked delight.
Oh, this was sowrong, so completely forbidden, to be crushed against her enemy like this andenjoying it, but there was no denying the breathless excitement she was feeling.
