jagged edge of the spire reaching up into the sky.
‘It’s a folly. You know...’ as he looked at her in query ‘...a couple of centuries ago it was the craze to build some kind of gothic ruin in a picturesque place. Around the time you were chopping aristocrats’ heads off.’
‘This is exactly why we were chopping off heads, if they squandered money on such crazy projects.’
‘Hence the name. Want to take a look? There might be a princess for you to rescue at the top, or a prince in need of my knightly skills.’
It only took a few minutes to reach the base of the tower and Polly stood on tiptoe trying to get a look inside but the narrow slits that passed for ground-floor windows were set too high. ‘Where’s the door?’
Gabe had wandered off around to the other side. ‘Here. Are you sure you want to risk it? You might disappear, never to be seen again, kidnapped to be the bride of a headless horseman.’
Polly joined him by the heavy oak door, the hinges exaggerated iron studs. ‘Is it locked?’
‘Only one way to find out.’ Gabe grasped the heavy iron ring and turned it and, with a creak so loud Polly jumped, the door swung open.
‘Ready? It looks dark in there.’
‘So
you
are
scared of ghosts?’ she teased.
‘
Non
, not ghosts. Spiders and rats on the other hand I am not so keen on.’
Rats? Polly shuddered, an involuntary movement of complete horror. She edged back. ‘You think there are rats?’
‘Hundreds. And cockroaches too,’ he added helpfully.
Polly glared at him. ‘Move aside, I’m going in.’
With an exaggerated bow Gabe stood aside, allowing her to precede him into the room.
‘There are no stairs, how disappointing. Definitely no stranded royalty for us to rescue.’ Polly swivelled slowly, taking in the large circular room paved in grey flagstones, the steep sides rising all the way up to the pointed tip of the tower. There were no other floors but it was mercifully dry. And free of any evidence of rat infestations.
‘I still don’t understand. What is it for?’ Gabe had followed her in.
Polly flung her arms open as she turned. ‘Probably somewhere for illicit trysts.’
‘Ah, for the nobleman to meet the maid.’ He leant back against the wall of the tower, arms crossed, face full of amusement, the hat still tilted back on his head giving him a rakish air.
Polly tilted her chin and stared up at the windows and considered. ‘Or for the lady of the house to meet the gamekeeper. Or maybe the stable boy.’
She looked across at Gabe to share the joke but he had gone still, his gaze focused intently on Polly. ‘Is that what you would have done? Snuck out to meet the gamekeeper?’
Polly felt a jolt of heat hit the pit of her stomach as their eyes snagged and held, a flash of that first, unacknowledged attraction zipping between them.
‘Or the stable boy.’ Was that her voice? So husky.
‘Of course. What would you have done with the stable boy in this room far away from everyone and everything?’ His eyes were so dark, so intense it was hard to look into them, not to be swallowed up in their depths. Polly dropped her gaze to his mouth. Remembered how sure it had been. How demanding.
The heat spread.
‘I don’t know,’ she lied, her mind filled with irresistible images of Gabe, those long legs clad in breeches, a shirt open at the neck. Her mouth dried. She could feel the heat of his gaze, scorching her where she stood, her whole body burning where it fell upon her.
But she couldn’t move, desire humming deep in her veins, thrilling to the caress of his eyes.
‘Non?’
He pushed off the wall, walking towards her with sure, graceful strides. ‘You came here to talk? To touch?’ He raised one hand to her face, sliding a finger down her cheek, the lightest of embraces.
‘Maybe,’ she whispered.
The memory of their earlier kiss was throbbing through her. She could taste him, feel his arms around hers, the lean strength in his hold, the deftness
‘It’s a folly. You know...’ as he looked at her in query ‘...a couple of centuries ago it was the craze to build some kind of gothic ruin in a picturesque place. Around the time you were chopping aristocrats’ heads off.’
‘This is exactly why we were chopping off heads, if they squandered money on such crazy projects.’
‘Hence the name. Want to take a look? There might be a princess for you to rescue at the top, or a prince in need of my knightly skills.’
It only took a few minutes to reach the base of the tower and Polly stood on tiptoe trying to get a look inside but the narrow slits that passed for ground-floor windows were set too high. ‘Where’s the door?’
Gabe had wandered off around to the other side. ‘Here. Are you sure you want to risk it? You might disappear, never to be seen again, kidnapped to be the bride of a headless horseman.’
Polly joined him by the heavy oak door, the hinges exaggerated iron studs. ‘Is it locked?’
‘Only one way to find out.’ Gabe grasped the heavy iron ring and turned it and, with a creak so loud Polly jumped, the door swung open.
‘Ready? It looks dark in there.’
‘So
you
are
scared of ghosts?’ she teased.
‘
Non
, not ghosts. Spiders and rats on the other hand I am not so keen on.’
Rats? Polly shuddered, an involuntary movement of complete horror. She edged back. ‘You think there are rats?’
‘Hundreds. And cockroaches too,’ he added helpfully.
Polly glared at him. ‘Move aside, I’m going in.’
With an exaggerated bow Gabe stood aside, allowing her to precede him into the room.
‘There are no stairs, how disappointing. Definitely no stranded royalty for us to rescue.’ Polly swivelled slowly, taking in the large circular room paved in grey flagstones, the steep sides rising all the way up to the pointed tip of the tower. There were no other floors but it was mercifully dry. And free of any evidence of rat infestations.
‘I still don’t understand. What is it for?’ Gabe had followed her in.
Polly flung her arms open as she turned. ‘Probably somewhere for illicit trysts.’
‘Ah, for the nobleman to meet the maid.’ He leant back against the wall of the tower, arms crossed, face full of amusement, the hat still tilted back on his head giving him a rakish air.
Polly tilted her chin and stared up at the windows and considered. ‘Or for the lady of the house to meet the gamekeeper. Or maybe the stable boy.’
She looked across at Gabe to share the joke but he had gone still, his gaze focused intently on Polly. ‘Is that what you would have done? Snuck out to meet the gamekeeper?’
Polly felt a jolt of heat hit the pit of her stomach as their eyes snagged and held, a flash of that first, unacknowledged attraction zipping between them.
‘Or the stable boy.’ Was that her voice? So husky.
‘Of course. What would you have done with the stable boy in this room far away from everyone and everything?’ His eyes were so dark, so intense it was hard to look into them, not to be swallowed up in their depths. Polly dropped her gaze to his mouth. Remembered how sure it had been. How demanding.
The heat spread.
‘I don’t know,’ she lied, her mind filled with irresistible images of Gabe, those long legs clad in breeches, a shirt open at the neck. Her mouth dried. She could feel the heat of his gaze, scorching her where she stood, her whole body burning where it fell upon her.
But she couldn’t move, desire humming deep in her veins, thrilling to the caress of his eyes.
‘Non?’
He pushed off the wall, walking towards her with sure, graceful strides. ‘You came here to talk? To touch?’ He raised one hand to her face, sliding a finger down her cheek, the lightest of embraces.
‘Maybe,’ she whispered.
The memory of their earlier kiss was throbbing through her. She could taste him, feel his arms around hers, the lean strength in his hold, the deftness
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