Hidden Kiss (Love Is The Law 2) by Isabella Brooke

three
edges. The fourth was more like a ledge. It wasn't high and the drop wasn't
steep but they had a good view of the twinkling lights of civilisation. Little
pockets of yellow and orange scattered over the valley and hills beyond.
    "It faces south all day so it always seems warmer here.
Come on, if you can hold your torch pointed at me, I'll get the tent up."
    He was practised and it didn't take long. Emily quite
enjoyed watching his solid form move so confidently in the dark. He seemed
bigger in the shadows and she admired the way he moved, smooth and powerful.
    "How are you doing?" he asked as he shoved the
final tent peg in, grunting as he bent and pushed. "Warm enough?"
    Emily was fantasising about how broad his shoulders were and
how much effort he was putting in. "Ahh yes, quite warm, thank you."
    He stood up and moved up close to her. In the dark, her
other senses were heightened. She could smell his fresh, clean outdoorsy smell,
with still a lingering hint of spice, probably from his shower gel or
aftershave. His breathing was soft and deep. She raised her hands to his face,
stroking along the smooth sides of his chin and cheek.
    "I'm so glad you're out here with me, Emily," he
whispered.
    "I'm glad you asked me."
    "You make me feel… fuzzy."
    That was unexpected, and made her laugh. "Sorry,"
she apologised, biting back her giggles. "Fuzzy? Like cheap cider?"
    "Warm and fuzzy. I want to look after you. Show you the
world. Hell, I want to give you the world."
    "I don't want the world." She pressed harder
against his body, letting her hands drop from his cheeks to his neck and
shoulders. "I want you."
    He kissed her as she pulled his head down towards her own,
and she was crushed against him by his arms. It was a kiss that stretched out
time, merging moment into moment as their skin touched, passionate and hungry.
She only pulled back when the crick in her neck was too painful to ignore.
"I want you," she repeated. "But… I also want a drink. What did
you bring?"
    He slapped her buttocks lightly. "Cheeky mare. Okay, we
have red wine or white."
    "Good god, a selection?"
    "Well, a rather limited selection. I mean, I'm not
about to offer you a range of cocktails and ciders of the world, spirits and
mixers. Bowls of olives. None of that shit."
    "Oh, well in the absence of gin and tonic, I'll have to
slum it with red wine, then."
    "Coming right up."
    They sat in the tent's entrance and Turner set about laying
out a feast of a cold picnic.
    "I would never eat this kind of stuff at home."
Emily waved a pork pie in the air.
    "I know," he agreed. "Everyone knows it
should be white wine with pork pies, not red."
    The red wine was soon finished, regardless of whether it was
the correct thing to drink with pastry products, crisps and nuts, and cakes
from the supermarket. Emily's head was becoming pleasantly muzzy, and although
her toes and fingers were tingling with the cold, the alcohol helped her to
ignore it.
    Turner's arm crept around her shoulders and she leaned in to
him. His thumb rubbed the top of her arm, rhythmic and reassuring. He pushed
his face against her hair and inhaled.
    "This is perfect," he muttered.
    Emily drew up her knees and shifted on the hard, stony
ground. It wasn't perfect. She'd still rather have been with him somewhere else
- anywhere else - if that place was warm and soft and comfortable. But she knew
he had a need to show her something that was special to him, so she managed to
bite back her sarcasm, even though the wine was threatening to loosen her
tongue.
    "I'm a bit chilly."
    "I am sure I can warm you up."
    "Out here?"
    "Why not."
    "Well, bugs and cold air and passing sheep and, um,
more bugs. That's why not."
    "Perhaps I can tempt you into my humble abode."
Turner reached behind, twisting at the waist, and unzipped the tent with a
flourish. The air mattresses were pumped up, and the thick down sleeping bag
already spread open. "Do come inside, madam."
    His elegant words were marred somewhat