A Lady and Her Magic

  “You know I can’t,” she cried out as the head of his shaft lodged inside her.

  “Tell me you love me,” he ground out as he filled her completely in one harsh stroke. His arms shook on either side of her head, quavering as he looked down at her.

  “You know I can’t.”

  He pushed himself even farther inside her, farther than she’d known he could go. “You can’t love me, or you can’t tell me?” he growled.

  “It’s forbidden,” she whispered on a rush of pleasure as he moved inside her. He withdrew in one long, slow stroke. And then he vanished. He didn’t surge within her again. He fell beside her on the bed and covered his eyes with his arm. He inhaled deeply. In and out. She watched the rise and fall of his chest. His manhood jutted up, standing between them, shimmery with her wetness. “Don’t push me away,” she whispered, reaching to pull his arm down from where it covered his eyes. “Not tonight. Don’t push me away.” She tugged harder and he finally relented. “I leave on the rising-dawn wind.”

  He laughed. It was a sound without any mirth at all. “I’ve a mind to lock you in the tower and keep you there.”

  Her heart leapt at the thought. But they would come for any children she and he conceived. They would take them. It would never work.

  “I could go with you,” he offered. “Anne and I. We could leave everything and come with you.”

  “You would do that for me?” she whispered.

  “I would do it for us,” he said. He rose up on his elbow and looked at her, as though a light had just flickered to life for him.

  “There has never been a human in our world.”

  “Ever?” He looked shocked. Everything he’d learned and that shocked him?

  “Ever,” she affirmed.

  “There’s a first time for everything.”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  ***

  He refused to beg her to love him. He had too much pride. She would leave with the morning wind, as though she’d never existed. “You will forget me in time,” she said.

  “Never,” he vowed as he rolled to cover her with his body again. If she thought he would ever forget her, she was due for a stay at Bedlam, rather than her land. He brushed her curls back from her face. “Tell me you love me. Leave me with the knowledge of that.”

  “Do you doubt it?” she croaked out. A tear rolled from the corner of her eye. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. For God’s sake, Ashley, I lost the color of my wings tonight. I’ll forever be known in the land of the fae as one of lost innocence, provided that they let me keep my wings at all.”

  He didn’t understand. Not at all.

  “I wanted one night with you,” she growled, tugging at his hair in frustration.

  Something she said finally sunk in. “I have ruined you,” he said.

  She nodded. “Ruined me for anyone else.” She heaved a sigh. “In your world, innocence is something that can be kept a secret. In mine, it’s not.”

  “Yet you let me have it anyway.”

  “One night,” she declared, tugging his hair to make him look into her eyes. “I needed one night.”

  “One night,” he repeated. He probably sounded like an idiot.

  “One night,” she whispered. Then she parted her thighs beneath him and rocked her hips. “Make it a wonderful night. One I’ll always remember.”

  He lodged the head of his shaft inside her. But then he swiped a hand down his face and withdrew from her. She cried out beneath him, “Blast it, Ashley,” she groused.

  “You’ll be ashamed of the time you spent with me,” he guessed. He rolled to his back and she climbed over him, looking down into his face.

  “If you get a case of the vapors over this, Robinsworth, I will never forgive you.” Her hair hung down, draping them both in her auburn curls. Then she smiled at him and spread her thighs, settling over his manhood, rocking against his length. “Who would have thought you would be prone to fainting at the thought of taking a lass’s innocence?”

  “When all my blood rages away from this head,” he said, pointing to his hair, “I suppose I could be prone to fainting.” He forced himself to match her playful mood.

  “I like the path your blood has traveled,” she said as she lifted herself, straightening her arms, her breasts bare and high. He reached for one and tweaked her nipple. She spread her thighs farther, and the heat of her touched his shaft. He rocked his hips and slid his hands down her sides until he could reach between them and lodge his shaft at her entrance. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and worried it.

  “Since I have already ruined you, I see no need to repent at this point,” he growled, as he raised his hips and pulled her down to sheathe him in one solid stroke. She gasped, the noise rocking his very soul.

  “My dangerous duke,” she cried out.

  He was about as dangerous as a mouse, except to her, it seemed. To her, he was dangerous. He’d ruined her life. And now he insisted on taking even more from her. “Tell me you love me, again,” he ordered, rolling her beneath him.

  “I can’t,” she cried out as he thrust inside her and retreated slowly, watching her face as he brought her pleasure.

  “You can,” he urged. “Tell me. Just once more.” He reached a hand between them and began to rub that little nub he knew would take her over the top, while he moved slowly inside her wetness. She arched and cried out, drawing his mouth down to her breast. He teased her with his tongue against her nipple.

  “Tell me,” he said. Then he drew her nipple into his mouth and sucked it harshly, laving it with his tongue as he continued to torment her, continued to stroke within her. Continued to love her.

  “I do,” she cried out. He hastened his fingers and sped his thrusts, and she wrapped her legs around him, locking her feet behind him.

  “Tell me how you feel,” he grunted, ready to spill himself inside her, but he needed more from her before he could. He needed to know. He needed to know she loved him. Because, by God, he loved her with everything he had.

  Sophia’s legs began to shake around him, and her arms quivered where she held tightly to his forearms.

  “Tell me,” he grunted by her ear, thrusting in and out of her.

  It wasn’t until a moment later, when she finally broke with the force of him loving her, that she screamed it. “I do love you,” she cried. Her lips touched his forearm, and then he felt her wicked little teeth nip at him. She squeezed his manhood in her quivering sheath, yet he forced himself to continue stroking her, determined to wring every ounce of pleasure she had from her very being. She lunged within his arms, the force of completion rocking them both as he came inside her, as he gave her everything he was, making them one in his heart and his mind.

  When she stilled within his arms, and her arms fell away from him, and her legs lowered from around his waist, she stilled against the mattress as though he’d taken her very life. But then her eyes opened and she smiled at him, a sleepy little smile full of wicked intention.

  “I do love you, you ninnyhammer,” she said with a grin. Then she tucked herself into his side and fell into an immediate and peaceful slumber. He drew her to him, ready to join her, but he couldn’t sleep yet. There was still too much to do. He had to keep her with him. And he had a mere few hours to figure out how to do so.

  Twenty-Eight

  A noise, soft and blunted, but loud and dangerous at the same time, jarred Sophia from sleep. She lay wrapped around Ashley’s long and lanky body, one naked calf tangled with his. She sat up on her elbow and looked down at him. Goodness, the man was beautiful in sleep. His face held none of the weariness that usually provoked a scowl. Sophia pulled her body back from his, and he reached for her in sleep.

  “Shh,” she whispered. “Sleep.”

  He grinned without opening his
eyes. “You’re still here.”

  “For a few more moments,” she whispered back.

  “How much longer?” he murmured.

  “She must be ready to catch the rising-dawn wind,” a voice said from the side of the bed. Sophia reached to jerk the counterpane over her and Ashley.

  “What the devil is that?” Ashley asked, raising his head to look toward the foot of the bed.

  “Ronald,” Sophia groaned. “A moment of privacy,” she scolded.

  “You’ve had more than a moment,” he said, his tone acerbic.

  “How did you get out of your chambers?” Ashley asked.

  “It takes more than a lock and key to keep one of my nature confined,” Ronald said with a smirk.

  “Finn,” Ashley groaned.

  “Indeed,” the garden gnome said. “He should use his head for more than a hat rack.”

  “I have been telling him that for years,” Ashley groaned. He drew Sophia further into his arms and nuzzled his morning stubble against her throat. “Go away, Ronald,” he said, lifting his head only for a moment.

  The room was dark, but the cold morning light that filtered through the curtains warned of the coming dawn. Sophia giggled. “Yes, Ronald,” she agreed. “Do go away.” Ashley cupped her breast, making her want to squirm within his grasp.

  “We must go,” Ronald warned.

  “A moment,” Ashley growled, his lips nipping at hers as he rolled her beneath him.

  “You have no more than a moment,” Ronald warned. “The wind will leave without you if you don’t get out of that bed, get dressed, and get ready to go.”

  Ashley scooted himself to the edge of the bed, still on top of her, but crooked, which made her want to laugh with the impropriety of it all. “Give us two minutes alone, Ronald. Then we’ll be along.”

  “Do you promise?”

  Ashley brushed at the lock of hair that hung down across his forehead. “On my honor.”

  “Do you have any?” the gnome snorted.

  Ashley made a move to grab for him. “You little curmudgeon.” The gnome’s feet scuttled across the floor, moving out of his reach. Ashley sighed heavily, “A moment, Ronald.”

  “Margaret and Mr. Thorne left with the earlier wind,” Ronald said. “I convinced your brother to let me come and fetch you.”

  That was very fortuitous for him.

  “So, Your Grace, if you will be so kind as to get off her…” Ronald cleared his throat loudly, letting that finish his sentence.

  Ashley pushed his upper back toward the center of the bed. “I believe Ronald has caught Wilkins’s illness.”

  “Illness?” She laughed as Ashley growled low in his throat and tossed the counterpane higher over his head, and began to kiss his way down her body. She heard a click as Ronald slipped out the door. Sophia shoved the counterpane down and reached for his shoulders. “What illness?” she asked, tapping the top of his head lightly with her fingertips.

  He looked up between her naked breasts. “The one that causes them to begin and end sentences with a clearing of their throats. I often think they’re choking.” Ashley lightly tickled her sides.

  Sophia shoved at his shoulders. “I have to get up and get dressed.” She looked toward the window at the purple shades of sky that were appearing. “If I miss the morning wind, I’ll be stuck here.”

  “That sounds like a good plan,” he said with a chuckle, as he kissed her lips quickly.

  She pushed at his shoulder again and he stopped to look down at her.

  “You’re not going to stay, no matter what I do.” It wasn’t a question. It was just a statement. A true one. She shook her head. Tears pricked at the backs of her lashes. He rolled off her and to the edge of the bed, where he sat for a moment. Then he sighed heavily and reached for his trousers. He pulled them up over his hips and tugged his shirt over his head. He held her dress out to her. “May I at least walk with you out to the wind?”

  He didn’t think he could jump aboard, did he? “The wind won’t recognize you as a traveler.”

  “Why does that sound so sensible to me?” he said with a laugh. He pulled on his boots and jacket. He looked rumpled, but she had never thought him more handsome. “I don’t have Anne with me. I wouldn’t try to jump aboard.”

  That tugged at Sophia’s heart. “Will you tell her I said good-bye?” she whispered.

  “No.”

  Oh, that hurt. “Why not?”

  “I’ll tell her you said ‘see you later.’”

  “But that will probably never happen.”

  He pretended to pull a mock knife from his chest. “Let me have my dreams, will you?”

  She sighed heavily and forced herself to rise from the warmth of his bed. “Tell her whatever will ease the way for her.”

  Ashley helped her dress, taking a moment to trail his lips over her shoulder and the back of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine as he fastened the back of her gown. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  He spun her around and tipped her head up to his. “Thank you.”

  “I don’t regret falling in love with you.”

  “Good,” he said, and he drew her into his arms.

  ***

  Ashley didn’t have any regrets, either. Not about meeting her, falling in love with her, or continuing to love her. His only regret was that she had to leave him. But he would soon do all he could to fix that. He patted his coat pocket. Perhaps he had some leverage that might help him to get her back. He would have to wait and see.

  Her fingers tangled with his as she leaned forward and lay her head on his chest. “I love to listen to your heart beat,” she murmured into his shoulder.

  “Keep listening and you might hear it break into a million pieces,” he warned. He took her by the shoulders and pushed her back from him. He protested with a murmur. He looked toward the window. The sun was rising.

  “We must go,” he said.

  She nodded and tugged him by the fingertips toward the door. He followed her, his arm around her as they traversed the corridors of his home. And then they came to the door of his secret garden. “May I have entrance to your garden?” she asked with a silly smile.

  “You always have had leave,” he said. He shoved the door open and found Ronald waiting on the other side.

  The gnome looked at his pocket watch and scowled. He closed the fob and tapped it lightly. “Time, it is a-wasting.”

  “Your parents?” Ashley asked.

  “I already told them good-bye,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him and inhaled deeply. “I want to take the scent of you with me,” she murmured.

  “Give me a moment to collect Anne, and you could take all of me,” he laughed.

  A gentle wind lifted his hair and a shiver crept up his spine. “The morning wind?” he asked.

  “It has come to collect me, I’m afraid.” She stepped onto her tiptoes and pulled his head down to hers, touching his lips softly but fully. He would remember that kiss always. Then she stepped back and took a deep breath, and the wind began to blow harder. It blew leaves around his garden, and caused the plants to shiver and shake so hard that they slung the morning dew about like a gentle rainfall. Yet there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

  Her hair lifted, blowing about her face, and she moved to brush it aside. “I will not forget you,” she said, speaking over the gusts. Suddenly, the gusting wind stopped, and Sophia’s maid appeared as though out of the mist. “I caught the wind at your parents’,” she said with a shrug. “Your brother and grandmother have gone ahead of us.” She held out a hand to Sophia. “Let me help you, Sophia,” she said, her voice kind. Sophia took a deep breath and put her hand into the maid’s.

  Ashley wanted to reach for her. He wanted to call her back to him, but he couldn’t. He bru
shed his hair from his eyes and watched the gentle wind as it seemed to absorb her. It swirled around her, and it looked almost as though her dress became part of it, billowing in the wind. Her hair swirled about, and he feared for her safety. But then she raised a finger to her lips and blew him a kiss.

  It was quite ridiculous to do so, but he reached out to catch it. He knew when she was leaving, when he could no longer see her maid. When he could no longer see the color of her dress or the glimmer in her eye.

  The garden gnome bowed low before him. “Your Grace,” he said. “Many thanks for your hospitality.” Ashley moved to pay his respects to the little gnome, but at the last moment, he reached for Ronald’s jacket and snatched him from the path of the wind. He held him by the neck of his jacket and watched as his feet kicked in the air. The little man’s hands flailed.

  “Put me down,” he snarled.

  Ashley chuckled. “I think not.” He held the gnome out farther from his own body to eliminate the blows that he could have sustained. “Finn!” Ashley called out. His brother stepped from the bushes and held open a burlap sack.

  “You,” the gnome snarled.

  “Yes, me,” Finn taunted.

  “Let me go.” The gnome was red with rage. The wind was beginning to slow. “I can still catch the wind, but not for much longer,” he warned.

  “I’ll have my wish,” Ashley said as he stuffed the gnome into the burlap sack. “I would consider you well and truly caught,” he said as he helped Finn to tie a knot into the top of the bag.

  “What do you intend to do with me?” the gnome asked, his voice muffled by the sack.

  “I intend to get my wish,” Ashley said. But first, he needed to talk with Sophia’s parents. He turned to Finn. “Can you keep that thing under control long enough to put it in the coach?”