Chapter 7
Seven
Deena pushed through some of the tall grass until she reached the spot she was searching for. She grinned and ran to stand in the heart of the clearing, jar dangling forgotten from her fingers as fireflies swirled around her like a living constellation.
The night air was cool against her flushed skin, but inside she burned from the chase through the grass, from the thrill of the night, and from knowing that Austin was following closely behind her.
Every sense felt heightened: the soft rustle of leaves, the distant hum of the party, the heavy beat of her own heart.
“Deena!”
Quick and purposeful footsteps crunched behind her. She turned just as he emerged from the shadows, breathing heavily. His dark hair was disheveled, and his eyes pinned her in place with an intensity that stole her breath.
“You shouldn’t have run off like that,” Austin scolded her. He closed the distance in three long strides, stopping so close she had to tilt her head back to hold his gaze. The moonlight highlighted the tension in his jaw and the faint flare of his nostrils as he breathed deeply.
Deena’s pulse thundered in her ears. “I’m hardly helpless, Austin. I survived five years in Paris without anyone hovering over me.”
He took another half-step, until the heat radiating from his body brushed against her like an invisible caress, raising gooseflesh along her arms. “This isn’t Paris,” he murmured, eyes dropping to her mouth and lingering there with deliberate, scorching slowness. “And tonight… you’re under my care.”
The words sent a shiver racing down her spine, pooling low and hot. “Your care?” She tried for lightness, but her voice emerged husky, betraying her. “You’re not my father.”
“No,” he agreed, the single word rough, almost a growl. His gaze flicked back up to hers, dark and intent. “Thank God for that.”
Silence pulsed between them, while fireflies drifted lazily around their shoulders, their soft glow reflected in his hazel eyes, turning them molten gold.
He was so close she could smell bergamot and warm male skin; her fingers twitched with the urge to reach out, to trace the shadow of stubble along his jaw, to discover how it would rasp against her throat, her breasts, and the tender skin of her inner thighs.
Deena swallowed, fighting the pull.
“What is this place?” he asked quietly.
She turned slightly, acutely aware of how near he still stood. “Dominic and I used to sneak out here on summer nights when we were children. Just to watch the fireflies. Away from nurses, tutors… and all the expectations.”
He moved to her side, gaze sweeping the meadow before settling on her face again, softer now but no less intense. “It’s beautiful,” he said, the simple sincerity catching her off guard.
Her throat tightened. “It was my favorite place to feel… free.”
“Free,” he repeated, voice low. “And tonight? Do you feel free now?”
Deena met his eyes, her breath shallow. “I’m not sure yet.”
His mouth curved in a slow, dangerous smile. “We could find out.”
Heat flared through her. “Do you want to continue our conversation?” she asked, forcing steadiness into her words.
Austin’s gaze sharpened, the smile deepening. “Refresh my memory. What, exactly, were we speaking of?”
Her cheeks burned. “We were… comparing scandals.”
He laughed softly, the sound brushing over her skin like silk. “Ah, yes. Yours, incredible as it seems, was innocence cruelly punished.” His eyes flicked back to her lips, lingering again. “Mine are usually the opposite. Deliberate. Thorough. Very… satisfying.”
Deena’s breath hitched. “You make it sound like a virtue.”
“Only when both parties agree,” he murmured, leaning in just enough that she felt the heat of his words against her cheek. “Do you ever wonder what it might’ve been like to give in to temptation?”
Deena’s heart slammed against her ribs. She should step back. Should remind him of every reason this was impossible.
Instead, she held his gaze, voice barely above a whisper. “Every woman wonders, Austin. Some of us just admit it.”
“So, admit something to me.”
She felt that familiar flutter she got whenever she was near him. “Lady X on the rug,” she managed. “That was… very vivid.”
“Too vivid?” He leaned in a fraction, voice dropping to a murmur that brushed her skin like silk. “Or do you want more detail?”
Her breath hitched. “Austin…”
“Tell me something, Dee,” he pressed while tucking a loose curl behind her ear. His fingertips grazed her cheek and lingered. “In Paris… did you ever taste something like what I described?”
“Taste what exactly?”
“A kiss that made you forget your own name?”
Deena blushed. “Of course not.”
His thumb traced the shell of her ear, feather light. “Never?”
“I lived carefully,” she whispered, hating how breathless she sounded. “I had to.”
“But did you want to?” His voice was pure seduction now, low and coaxing. “Did you ever lie awake, wondering how it would feel to be kissed until you couldn’t think?”
She couldn’t lie, not with his touch igniting sparks along her skin.
“We agreed on honesty,” he reminded her, hand sliding to cup her jaw as his thumb stroked her lower lip. “No secrets.”
Deena closed her eyes against the intensity of his gaze. “Yes,” she admitted finally, voice barely audible. “I’ve wondered. I always wanted… one real first kiss. The kind that consumes you. But since I won’t marry…” She opened her eyes, meeting his. “I thought I never would.”
Austin’s expression shifted. Hunger and tenderness warred in his eyes. “I can’t allow that.”
Her heart slammed. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t let you go through life without knowing.” His other hand settled at her waist, fingers splaying possessively. “Would you like one taste? Just to know.”
Deena’s breath caught. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I?” His thumb pressed gently against her lip, parting it slightly. “If you’re only getting one kiss, shouldn’t it be unforgettable?”
“You’re a rake,” she breathed, but she didn’t step back. She couldn’t.
“Guilty.” His head lowered slowly. “Are you afraid you’ll fall in love with me after one kiss?”
She scoffed, gathering all her bravado. “With you? That’s absurd.”
Before doubt could stop her, she rose on her toes and pressed a quick peck to the corner of his mouth, and she dropped back heavily on her heels, causing herself to wobble. Austin held her still and tightly against him.
“There,” she said quickly. “It’s done, and I’m not in love. It was nothing spectacular.”
Austin seemed stunned for a heartbeat until his eyes darkened seriously.
“That wasn’t a kiss.”
Deena’s voice came out breathier than she intended, trembling with the challenge she couldn’t quite hide. “Then what is a kiss?”
Austin’s eyes darkened to molten hazel and fixed on her mouth with undisguised hunger. He lifted both hands slowly, cupping her face as though she was something fragile and infinitely precious. His thumbs stroked along her cheekbones, then lower, tracing the heated flush that betrayed her.
“This,” he said, voice rough as gravel, “is a kiss.”
His lips brushed hers. It was barely a touch, soft and tentative, like a question whispered against her skin.
The contact was feather-light, yet it detonated through her like wildfire.
Every nerve ignited; heat surged from her lips straight to her core.
Deena’s mouth parted on an involuntary gasp, a soft, needy sound that invited him in.
And Austin wasted no time.
He claimed her mouth with devastating patience, lips firming, angling, and deepening the kiss until she felt devoured.
One hand slid into her hair. His fingers threaded through the pins until her curls spilled loose; he tilted her head back, opening her fully to him.
His tongue swept inside. The taste was intoxicating.
His other hand tightened at her waist, pulling her flush against the hard, unyielding length of his body.
There was no mistaking his arousal. He was thick, rigid, and pressing insistently against her belly through layers of fabric that suddenly felt far too thin.
The feel of him was hot and unmistakable, and it sent a shocking pulse of wetness between her thighs.
“Austin,” she gasped against his mouth, the word half plea, half surrender.
He answered with a low growl that vibrated through her chest. His tongue stroked hers again, deeper and more demanding.
Coaxing her to meet him and to match the rhythm he set.
Deena’s hands fisted desperately in his coat, pulling him closer even as her knees threatened to buckle.
She kissed him back with a raw, helpless hunger.
Every suppressed longing was poured out in their kiss.
She moaned softly, and he swallowed the sound.
His thigh eased between hers, creating just enough pressure to make her ache sharpen into something almost painful.
The friction sent sparks racing up her spine; her breasts pressed against the hard wall of his chest, nipples tightening to aching points beneath her stays.
She wanted his hands there, wanted them everywhere, skin on skin, no barriers, until she forgot her own name.
“What do you want, Dee?” he whispered in between their kisses.
“I…I can’t say.”
“Tell me. You don’t have to be shy with me.”
She nipped at his lip, and he groaned; the sound made her stomach flip pleasurably.
“I—I…”
Austin pulled her hair back gently, exposing her neck to him. She clung to him as he dipped his head and kissed her neck until she let out a loud sigh.
When he finally tore his lips from her, it was only far enough to drag in a ragged breath. His forehead rested against hers, and they both trembled.
“That,” he rasped, voice raw, “was a real kiss.”
Deena could not speak. She could barely think.
Her lips throbbed, swollen and sensitive; her body hummed with unspent need, thighs slick with arousal she prayed he couldn’t feel through her skirts.
All she knew was that one taste would never, could never, be enough.
But reality came crashing down around her, and she pulled away from him with a loud gasp.
“This is not proper!” she hissed as she stumbled to fix her hair and gown.
“Dee—”
“You are my brother’s best friend, Austin.” She cut him off curtly.
Deena squinted into the darkness but found no one around.
What if someone witnessed my shame again? What if they talk?”
“We need to return now,” she continued through gritted teeth.
“Yes,” Austin replied flatly, and she imagined that realization must have dawned on him, too. “We should go back.”
They walked in charged silence, fireflies fading behind them.
The jar was completely forgotten as it swung lightly between Austin’s fingers.
Deena’s lips still tingled; her pulse refused to slow.
Every few steps, she felt his gaze on her profile, a warm brush as tangible as a touch, but she kept her eyes forward, afraid that if she met them, she would stop walking altogether and demand another kiss.
A deeper, longer kiss could ruin them both.
The lanterns grew brighter as they neared the lawn. Laughter and applause spilled from the gathered guests. The dowager stood on a low stone bench, holding aloft a triumphant jar filled almost to the brim with glowing lights.
“And the winners of our little contest,” she proclaimed, voice carrying across the grass, “are Lady Amelia and Mr. Harrowby! A moonlight picnic for two tomorrow evening. What a treat!”
Lady Amelia squealed and clapped, while Mr. Harrowby offered a gallant bow.
Ribbons were tied, congratulations offered, and the crowd buzzed with good-natured envy.
Deena and Austin emerged from the shadows at the edge of the group.
A few heads turned, and whispers followed.
The dowager’s sharp eyes found them instantly.
“Ah! There you are at last,” she called, stepping down from her perch with surprising agility. She approached them, cane tapping, gaze sweeping from Deena’s flushed cheeks to Austin’s slightly disheveled cravat and back again.
“You two look as though you’ve been wrestling bears in the dark,” she said with a hint of mischief in her eyes.
Deena felt heat flooding her face. “We were only collecting fireflies, Grandmother, when—”
“When a wild goose began to chase your darling grandchild through the garden,” Austin cut in.
The dowager gasped. “Wild geese? In my garden? Chasing my granddaughter? I shall have a talk with my gardener immediately!”
“Indeed, Your Grace.”
“Well, don’t just stand there in silence! Tell me, did you kill the beast then?”
Austin straightened. “I tried my best, Your Grace, but sadly I carried no weapon strong enough to beat it…so we did what we could.”
“And what was that?” she asked with a raised brow.
“We ran. And that is why we are so disheveled. I apologize. I just wanted to get Lady Deena back home safely. Like I promised.”
“Of course.” The dowager’s brows remained arched. “I owe you my gratitude, Your Grace.”
“I assure you that there is no need for that.”
The dowager faffed over her granddaughter. “But Deena darling, how was it before this unfortunate event unfolded? I don’t see many fireflies in that jar, and I am sure you two were not running from a goose the entire night.” Her pointed look made Deena squirm uncomfortably.
“We…we went off route, Grandmother. I’m sorry…I knew that the meadow had the most fireflies.”
The dowager tutted. “I taught you better than that, Deena. And what are you smirking at?”
Austin cleared his throat, offering his most charming smile. “The meadow proved more distracting than anticipated, Your Grace.”
The dowager’s eyes gleamed. “Distracting. How interesting.” She tapped Deena’s arm with her fan.
“We shall speak tomorrow, my dear. At length. I want to know all about this goose, and we’ll have it shot and cooked by the evening.
Now, both of you, clean yourselves up. You two have enough scandal to deal with already. ”
Deena managed to make a weak nod.
The dowager turned away, already calling for champagne to toast the winners, but not before casting one last knowing glance over her shoulder.
Left standing beneath the lanterns, Deena and Austin exchanged a look, half guilty and half exhilarated. Their faces flushed and breathing shallow as they drank in the sight of each other and laughed. All anger dispersed and was promptly replaced by relief.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
“We continue as normal…”
Austin’s response made her heart drop.
“Publish the scandal and find you a wife?” Deena asked softly.
“Precisely.”