The Magic of I Do

  Devilish delight twinkled in Katherine’s eyes. “I do whatever he wants.” She kicked off her shoes and lifted her feet to the footstool. “There’s no shame in taking pleasure in the bedchamber.” She narrowed her eyes at Claire. “What were you doing with Finn up on the landing tonight?”

  “Watching the show,” Claire admitted.

  “And?”

  “And nothing.”

  “That’s why Finn looked like he wanted to drag you straight to his bedchamber and keep you busy the rest of the night. He’s probably irked to no end that I’m blocking the path between the two of you.”

  “Blocking what path?”

  “You’re here with me, instead of with him.”

  Claire wasn’t going to be with him, no matter what.

  A knock sounded on the door. “Enter,” Claire called.

  Wilkins stepped into the room and bowed. “Mrs. Crawfield’s chambers have been prepared. And his lordship would like to see you in the study, miss.”

  “Would you show Mrs. Crawfield to her chambers?” Claire asked over her shoulder as she went to see what Finn wanted.

  “He has found a way around my block, apparently,” Katherine murmured to Claire as she walked by her to follow Wilkins to her chambers. Claire’s heart lurched.

  Fifteen

  Claire found Finn in the study, sprawled in a chair before the fire with a tumbler of some kind of drink in his hand. “Don’t even think of it,” he said as she looked at his glass. “The last time you took my drink, you know what happened.” He was getting hard at the mere thought of it. He hooked a chair with his foot and drew it closer to him so that they both faced the fire, but the corners of their chairs nearly touched.

  “Certainly, it’s not proper to sit that close together.” She said it so primly that it amused him.

  A grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Surely that doesn’t apply with a man who has been inside you.”

  Claire gingerly perched her bottom on the edge of the chair. “You shouldn’t talk of such things.” Her cheeks flushed a rosy shade of pink.

  “How can I not? It’s all I think about.” He drank the last swallow of his drink and set the cup to the side. “Would you like something?” he asked.

  “You just informed me that I couldn’t have anything. Did you need to tell me something? Or did you just want me to watch you drink?”

  Oh, he needed something. And she was it. “I just wanted to talk to you. To find out if Katherine was settling in all right.”

  “She’s fine. She has the room next to mine.”

  “A genius bit of maneuvering there.” With Katherine close by, he would not go within one hundred feet of Claire’s chambers.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Of course, you don’t.”

  Claire got to her feet. “If you don’t need anything, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “I need something,” he said quickly as she walked by his chair. He snaked an arm around her waist and tugged her into his lap. She squirmed, but only for a moment. “Settle down,” he growled playfully.

  She wiggled her bottom against his erection and he winced. “Let me go, Finn.”

  “Fine,” he clipped out. He loosened his arms but didn’t completely let her go. He wouldn’t force her to want him. Maybe he was the only one with such fierce desires right this moment. She wasn’t foxed, after all, not like the last time he’d had her. He loosened his hold on her. She could have gotten out of his arms, had she tried, but she didn’t. In fact, she softened against him a bit with a heavy sigh.

  “Finn,” she breathed.

  “Claire,” he mocked.

  “Why did you send for me?”

  Because he couldn’t go to her with Katherine in the room beside her. “I just wanted to look at you.”

  “You’re foxed. Go to bed.”

  In fact, he’d only had a sip or two of brandy. He wasn’t nearly foxed. He had all his faculties completely under control. What wasn’t in control was her. “If you’ll go with me, I will.”

  He laid his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. She should slap him. And she still might. She wasn’t some whore he could talk to like that.

  The palm of her hand stroked across his beard stubble, instead. “What’s bothering you?” she asked. She still hadn’t gotten up from his lap, and it was all he could do not to touch her.

  “I don’t want Katherine to be here,” he admitted.

  “You still have feelings for her?”

  “Not at all.” And that was the truth. He’d been dismayed and disillusioned when she threw him over, but that was more about his pride than any heartfelt emotion he had for her.

  “But you had feelings for her once.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, which was fine, because it wasn’t an easily answered question.

  “Feelings didn’t come into play with Katherine.” He gave Claire a tiny push to slide her down his knee a bit. He could feel every breath she took in his manhood, and if he got any harder, she would be able to drive him into the wall and spin him like the hands of a clock.

  “What was in play with Katherine?” Her voice was quiet, and her green eyes looked directly into his.

  “Pleasure. Katherine was about pleasure. I have needs. She met them. For a time.” That sounded callow even to him.

  “And how do you have them met now?”

  He didn’t. Finn took her hand and placed it on his raging manhood. She indelicately squeezed the tip of it through his trousers. “God, Claire.” He took her hands in his and laid them upon his chest. “You’ll unman me doing that.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  Of course, she didn’t. “Do you remember what we did tonight on the overlook at the ball?”

  A rosy flush crept up her cheeks again. God, she was pretty. “I remember.”

  “That.”

  “Oh. I don’t know how to do that.”

  Finn did. It felt like he spent in his hand more often lately than he ever had. And it was all Claire’s fault.

  Finn sat up straighter and cupped her face in his hands. He touched his lips to hers. Claire’s hands fisted in his waistcoat as she clutched him tightly. But she kissed him back. She was slightly hesitant at first, but when he touched his tongue to hers, she moaned low in her throat. “What can I do to help you?” she whispered as she sat back and looked down at the ridge of his manhood. She licked her pretty pink lips.

  He was an idiot. This woman had been an innocent before he’d spoiled her. And he couldn’t use her as he would a whore. But he’d never felt this consuming desire for a woman before. Never. Not once in his life. He wanted to please her. He wanted to make her happy. To hell with his needs. He needed to have her. That was all.

  But if he took her tonight, she’d be no more to him than Katherine. “If your father were here, I’d go to him and ask for his permission to take you driving or for a walk in Hyde Park.” He drew her down to lay her head on his chest, and she curled into him like she was meant to be there.

  “My father doesn’t have dominion over my life. He never has.” She stiffened with her statement, but she settled when he drew his hand down her back.

  “But that’s the way we do things here. We gentlemen see a pretty lass, and we go and ask for her father’s permission to court her.”

  She sat up quickly. “I believe we are a little past the courtship stage.”

  “So, we put the cart before the horse.” He chuckled at the look of exasperation on her face.

  “That is a moot point. My kind doesn’t marry your kind.”

  “Robin and Sophia did. Your mother and father did.”

  “My mother and father made a mistake. And I fear that Robinsworth and Sophia did too.”

  “Why did your grandparents raise you?”
r />   “When a child is born to parents, one of whom is fae and one is not, the fae children are taken back to the land of the fae to be raised there, along with any parent’s memory that they existed. The memories are sealed in a box and set high upon a shelf.”

  “That’s awful,” Finn breathed. No wonder she was bitter about the situation.

  “That’s why fae cannot marry nonfae. It’s one of the Unpardonable Errors. Losing your children is the punishment for it.”

  “Your parents kept the ones who were not born fae?”

  “Yes, two girls and a boy. One of the girls just happens to be fae. But they kept her anyway. I don’t know how. Some kind of special magic my mother discovered.”

  “I feel certain they wanted to keep you.”

  “They never should have married to begin with.”

  “But they did. There’s no taking it back.”

  “Just as there’s no taking back a child.”

  Good God. No wonder Claire was bitter about her parents. She’d been all but abandoned, in her estimation.

  Finn could sit and hold her like this all night. He’d never been one for cuddling, but he enjoyed having her in his lap, pressed against his side.

  But his comfort also brought to mind that if he couldn’t marry her, he couldn’t have her at all. All of his hopes dashed like water against the rocks at the shore. He’d had her once. He supposed once would be enough.

  “I think you’ve underestimated your parents’ love for you.”

  “I think you’ve overestimated their level of caring.”

  “What was it like when you first saw them?”

  “It was the night you and I had been together,” she said quietly, so quietly he could barely hear her. “My grandfather died that night, and they sent the wind to pick me up and take me back to the land of the fae.”

  “The wind?”

  “It’s how we travel. The wind takes us to and from our land on the night of the moonful. Otherwise, we have to pass through a portal. The portal is guarded by fish. Or fallen faeries who have been turned into fish. They sent the wind for me on a night that wasn’t a moonful, since it was an emergency.”

  He must have looked astounded, because she laughed lightly.

  “There’s much you’d have to learn to understand my land.”

  “I’d like to visit it.”

  “It’s forbidden.”

  “Yet your father and Robin are there.”

  “They shouldn’t be.”

  “Perhaps love is the key to their access. I have seen your parents together. They love one another to distraction. And there’s no doubt Robin and Sophia are in love.”

  “Love matters not. Magic will rule over love. Always.” She squirmed in his lap until she was in a position where she could look up at him. “Were you disappointed to find that Katherine’s child isn’t yours?”

  Was he? God, no. “Not at all. If it had been, I’d have done my duty, however.”

  ***

  He’d have done his duty. That was what a child was to him. A duty. He might have to do his duty to the one she carried. How would he feel about that? Because if the child wasn’t fae, she would be forced to abandon it to his care, along with her memories of it.

  His blue eyes were bright, and they stared directly into hers. It was like falling into an open blue sky. Claire sat forward and touched her lips to his. He looked so vulnerable sitting there holding her in his lap. He’d asked her questions about her life and given her time to explain. He’d even offered to court her. She didn’t want to be courted. She wanted this in this moment. Right now.

  “Claire,” he groaned against her lips. “We can’t do this.”

  “Do what?” she whispered back at him. A grin tugged at the corners of her lips. His tongue reached out and touched hers, and she wrapped her lips around it and sucked gently.

  “Don’t do that,” he groaned as he leaned back, avoiding her mouth. “Claire, if you don’t stop, I’ll have to have you.”

  What harm could that do? She was already expecting. The only problem was that, while she could hide the pregnancy beneath the layers of her skirts during the day, she could hide nothing when she was naked. “So, stop,” she teased. Her lips tickled the side of his jaw as she kissed her way down the side of his throat. His manhood was rock hard again beneath her bottom.

  Finn threaded his hand into Claire’s hair and forced her to look at him. “Don’t tease, Claire,” he growled.

  “Who’s teasing?” she asked. Her hands fumbled with the fall of his trousers. They shook slightly, and he covered her hands with his.

  “Stop,” he urged. But it was a weak protest. He didn’t mean it. He just did it because he thought he should.

  “I just want to see it.” That wasn’t what she wanted, but it was as good an excuse as any. She worked the fall of his trousers and he bit his lower lip between his teeth, biting back a hiss of something as she revealed him to the glow of candles in the room. He was huge, and his flesh arched up high enough to touch his stomach.

  She took his turgid flesh in her grip. “God, Claire,” he grunted, but he thrust against her fist.

  “It’s so soft,” she breathed.

  He chuckled, but it was a broken sound. “You call that soft?”

  “No, I mean your skin. It’s so soft.” Her fingertips dragged across a bead of moisture that leaked from the tip and she swirled it around the purple top of his arousal. “Does this feel good?”

  “If it felt any better, I’d die on the spot.”

  “What you did for me, can I do that for you now?”

  Finn groaned, still working his lower lip between his teeth. “You shouldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not right.”

  “By whose standards?”

  “Mine?” he growled as her questing fingers squeezed his tumescent flesh.

  “You don’t sound very certain.”

  “Stop, Claire.” He raised his hands over his head, grasping the back of the chair. She couldn’t tell if he was avoiding pushing her away or clutching her to him.

  She continued her sensual assault and his hips began to grind a slow rhythm, his manhood reaching up to greet her every squeeze.

  “Claire, if you don’t stop, I’m going to come.”

  This only frenzied her movements. She tightened her grip and sped her fingers, sliding up and down his manhood with his thrusts. She remembered how she’d felt when he’d whispered in her ear about coming and finding that sweet release.

  “Come for me, Finn,” she urged, her whisper quiet beside his ear. He shuddered and released his lip long enough to grunt. His release wasn’t at all what she expected. It was a silky thread of fluid that bathed her hand in his warm essence. Finn looked directly into her eyes as he pumped into her hand, once, twice, three times, his grunts at culmination music to her ears. Finally, he stilled. He pulled her tight against his chest and held her there, his essence between them, wetting his clothing.

  “Don’t look down,” he warned.

  She giggled. “I already saw all your private places.”

  She laid her head on his shoulder as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, reached between them and cleaned her hand of his seed. He closed the fall of his trousers and pulled her back down on his chest. She breathed him in, that scent of the forest now mingled with something else. Heat? Did heat have a smell? If so, that was it.

  “Thank you,” he said softly.

  “You’re welcome,” she said as she sat up. “Don’t fall in love with me.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t.” She kissed him gently and left the room.

  ***

  Finn cleaned himself up as best he could. Simmons would eat his hat tomorrow when he saw the state of Finn’s clothing. The man would be livid. And Finn didn’t care
. That was the best sex he’d ever had in his life, and he hadn’t even been inside her.

  She could unman him with a simple touch, and he couldn’t help but think that, in a perfect world, he would offer for her, marry her, and they could love each other until the end of their days.

  But such was not the case. He had better stay away from Claire Thorne. Now, how to manage that when he needed her almost as much as the air he breathed, that was the question.

  Sixteen

  Finn tromped down the stairs for dinner, his coat pristine and his cravat tied perfectly. But his insides were a muddle. Katherine was gone. He’d seen her off that afternoon and had sent one of his men with her. And a maid to see to her needs. She was gone. And safe, and that was what mattered. The last three days had been a living hell, though. He’d had his former mistress in the house along with the woman he wanted more than anything. It was like dragging flint in a pile of rocks and waiting to see if it would spark.

  But finally, it was just Finn and Claire again. And he wanted to see her. He knew he’d pledged to himself that he’d stay away from her, but he couldn’t.

  Over the past three days, he’d seen her only at the evening meal, and that was with Katherine joining them. He’d missed her. It was an odd notion. But he had.

  Finn sauntered into the dining room and stopped cold. It was empty. “Wilkins!” Finn bellowed.

  “Yes, my lord,” the man said as he stepped into the room.

  “Do you know where Miss Thorne is?”

  Wilkins looked decidedly uncomfortable. “She is in the study with His Grace, my lord.”

  “His Grace?”

  “The Duke of Robinsworth.”

  “Robin’s back?” Why hadn’t anyone told Finn? His brother was back from the land of the fae with his magical wife, and no one had thought Finn important enough to inform?

  Wilkins lifted his nose in the air and said, “The Duke and Duchess of Robinsworth are in His Grace’s study, my lord. Along with Miss Thorne.”

  Finn stormed down the corridor toward Robin’s study, but suddenly Lady Anne rounded the corner and squealed when she saw him coming. “Uncle Finn,” she cried, just before she launched herself through the air at him. He caught her, unable to keep from laughing at her antics.