Ever After (8 page)

She swallowed hard, her breath growing even shallower. Then a slow smile curved her lips. “Too right.”

I conjured a handful of my own dust and blew gently across my palm, directing the silvery particles toward Arabella. She inhaled deeply, breathing it in, keeping her eyes closed as it hit her system and energized her again. When she opened her eyes a few moments later, she was visibly improved.

“Better?” I murmured, smoothing the back of my hand along her cheek.

Her lips parted in a little gasp at the contact and she pressed her cheek into my touch. I could feel the desire building within her, and I knew without a doubt what she wanted, what she
needed,
was more than a little fairy dust. And, my God, I wanted it too. Too much for my own damned good.

I took a step backward and gave myself a rough mental shake, bringing my own desires back under control.

“Well,” Merlin drawled, spreading his arms wide and shepherding us out of his study. “As much as I'd love to continue hanging around to watch this little drama play out between the two of you, I have a show to do. You're welcome to make yourselves at home.
Mi casa
. . . and all that.”

He gave me a pointed look and jerked his head a couple of times toward a door that led to what appeared to be a bedroom. When I frowned at him, he jerked his chin at Arabella and then pumped his fist.

Subtle.

When Arabella turned to see what was making me frown, Merlin darted forward to press a kiss to her cheek, then dashed away, calling over his shoulder. “G'bye, darling. Good luck with the adventures tonight. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. . . .” At this, he came to an abrupt halt and turned back to add, “On second thought, for once,
please
do something I would do. You're in
desperate
need of a good shagging.”

After Merlin had gone, Arabella and I stood facing one another in awkward silence, the tension between us a palpable force in the room. The air sizzled with the undercurrent of desire, and suddenly it was a little hard to breathe. I stuck a finger under the collar of my shirt and pulled to see if that's what was choking the life out of me. It wasn't.

“So . . . what now?” I asked, simultaneously dreading and hoping like hell that she'd suggest we follow Merlin's advice.

“Now,” she said, her hips swaying as she came closer, clearly enjoying my torment, “we go pay a visit to your not-so-secret admirer and retrieve Arthur's ring.” She slipped one arm around my neck and then the other, pressing her body into mine. “But first, I think we should go back to my room at the theater.”

I was barely able to suppress the groan that preceded my strangled response, “Oh, yeah?”

She nodded. “Mmm-hmm.” She pulled back enough to give me that saucy, dimpled smile of hers, knowing damned well that she'd never needed any magic to enslave me. “If I'm going to go sneaking into the Queen of Camelot's bedroom, I'm going to need a change of wardrobe. And so are you.”

“I
loved him, you know,” Arabella called from behind the dressing screen.

My head snapped up at her words, jealousy spiking in my veins. “Say again?”

She peeked out from behind the screen, offering a tantalizing glimpse of her bare shoulder. “My father,” she clarified. “I didn't see him very often. And I had no idea who he really was. I just knew he was the man who brought me the most beautiful dresses and baubles from his travels and that my mother loved him.”

“And you didn't know your mother's true identity either?” I asked, trying very hard to concentrate on her words and not the shadow of her nude form behind the screen as she tried on yet another outfit for the job we were planning to pull off that night.

“Not a clue.”

I watched her shadow hop around a little, then wiggle into whatever it was she'd chosen this time around. I'd offered to provide exactly the ensemble she needed, but she'd refused, preferring to go about it the hard way.

“Hmm,” she muttered. “Nope, I don't think this one's going to work either.”

Bored out of my mind after two hours of wardrobe changes, I fell back onto her bed with a groan. “Arabella, lass, I
beg
you to let me give you what you need.”

I heard her go still, my words hanging heavy in the air between us, the double meaning not lost on either of us. I squeezed my eyes shut, grimacing at the war of emotions raging within me.

So much for keeping my true feelings under control, playing it cool. There was no doubt that the attraction was still there, that the intense desire we'd felt for one another hadn't been affected by time or distance. But my heart was another matter. I wasn't eager to let it take another beating. And yet here I was letting loose with double entendres that betrayed me. Freud would've had a friggin' party with all the shit running through my head. Especially after what I'd just said.

Let me give you what you need. . . .

These were the same words I'd spoken to her our first night together. I never could've forgotten them, not when that night was seared into my memory, as vivid today as when I'd first taken her into my arms. After I'd finally spoken the truth that had weighed heavily on my heart, Arabella and I had shared our first kiss. But one kiss hadn't been enough. It had never been enough. One kiss always led to hundreds, thousands. Too many moments of bliss to recount.

And that night ...

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing away the remembering, but my will was no match for my heart. It wouldn't forget. And once more she was cradled gently in my arms ...

 

I peered down into her dark eyes, made even darker by the intensity of her desire. She was so innocent, so inexperienced, but the apprehension she felt was gentled by her trust in me, her belief in me and my love. I wavered beneath the weight of it, averting my eyes, ashamed. I wasn't worthy of her high regard, didn't deserve her love. And I sure as hell didn't deserve the gift she was prepared to give me.

Her fingertips lightly caressed my cheek. “I want this,” she whispered. “I want to be yours.”

I shook my head. “You deserve so much more than me,” I insisted. “What can I offer you? Trouble? Poverty?”

Her lips turned up in a slow smile. “You're all I want.”

I grunted dismissively, wondering how long she'd feel that way after the winter set in and the travelers were fewer, offering less opportunity to steal their valuables and put food in our bellies. But she grasped the nape of my neck and pulled me down to her, kissing me soundly, her skill vastly improved with the amount of practice we'd had since our first kiss. I groaned with need, my tongue slipping between her teeth to caress hers.

She hooked her heel around the back of my knee and rolled onto her back, urging me along with her. I settled between her thighs, breaking our kiss with another groan, somehow resisting the urge to bury myself in her sweet heat. She gripped my shoulders, rolling her hips upward until the tip of my cock slipped inside.

She gasped, her eyes going wide, her muscles tensing. But when I retreated and would've rolled away, her grip on my shoulders tightened. “No, please,” she said, breathless. “Don't stop.” She closed her eyes for a moment and I watched in fascination as the tension faded from her lovely face, and her lips parted as she rolled her hips again and began to move in rhythm with my slow, measured thrusts, a little deeper each time.

I braced myself on my elbows, rising up so I could study her expression, watch her aura for even the slightest misgiving, but all I saw was yearning, desire, love. As my thrusts pressed against the barrier of her maidenhood, she moved with me, matching my pace.

“My God,” she gasped, her nails digging into my skin. “Please, John . . . I need you.”

I'd never heard those words before, had never had anyone need anything from me but the death and destruction I could deliver with my sword, or a fleeting night's pleasure in my bed. But to know that she needed
me
, needed my
love
... It touched me on a level I hadn't
't
even realized existed. And that cavernous emptiness that had threatened more than once to drag me down into its dark abyss was suddenly brimming with light.

My throat was tight with emotion when I whispered, “Then let me give you what you need.”

 

“Gideon?” Arabella called softly, snapping me out of my bittersweet reverie, the sound of my name on her lips sending a shiver down my spine that I had to work to repress.

I heard her come out from behind the screen but kept my eyes closed, not wanting to meet her gaze just then, afraid she'd somehow guess at what I'd been thinking. But realizing I was being a total fucking coward, I sighed and forced my eyes open. “Arabella, what I meant—”

The words died on my lips. She was wearing a black leather jumpsuit that hugged every tantalizing curve and zipped up the front from navel to the cleavage I'd often dreamed of nuzzling again. She'd pulled her hair up into a ponytail that hung down to her shoulders, the soft tip of it curling invitingly around the curve of her throat. I swallowed hard, my eyes fixed on her as she walked toward the bed, my gaze taking in every enticing movement.

My cell phone suddenly rang, jolting me out of my stupor and thankfully dampening the painfully hard erection pressing against my fly. I pulled my phone from my jacket pocket and glanced at the number, surprised to see it was the king. I held a finger to my lips, then answered the call. “I am at your service, sire.”

“Gideon,” came the king's booming voice, overloud as if he suspected the distance between us would interfere with my ability to hear him. “Where are you?”

I winced, holding the phone back from my ear. The man was a brilliant businessman and tactician, but when it came to technology, he was a total neophyte. It was rare he deigned to contact anyone via telephone or any other means of communication aside from the conjured mists through which only we fairies and our most trusted friends communicated. “I am investigating the fairy dust thefts as you requested, sire,” I told him, my conscience cringing at the half-truth. “The lead you provided proved promising. However, the situation is a bit more complicated than we imagined.”

Arabella's mouth hitched up in one corner and she lifted an eyebrow.

“Oh? How so?” the king asked.

“I believe there is more at play here than just the fairy dust thefts,” I explained, wincing as my bonds flared again. “I'm going to need a little more time to sort things out, get to the bottom of everything.”

“Of course, of course,” the king replied. “What's a few more days, eh?”

“Were the additional security measures I suggested for the transports approved?” I asked, wanting to make sure that the other thief, whoever he was, didn't make an appearance before I could track his ass down and turn him in, hopefully before I was forced to hand over Arabella.

There was a moment of hesitation. “I trust your judgment completely, my boy. But you know Mab is not so easily persuaded of your incomparable value to us, I'm afraid. You understand.”

Oh, I understood perfectly. Reginald had brought my ideas forward, had ridiculed them as only he could, and then had convinced the queen and the others to take his advice instead. The king would've no doubt argued—briefly. But if Mab had it in her head she wanted things a certain way, the king always caved. The only instance where I'd ever seen otherwise was when it came to the king's daughters and his insistence upon Mab's accepting them.

“Just bring me my thief by the end of the week,” the king continued. “Then we won't have any concerns, true?”

“As you say, sire,” I replied, my bonds flaring again. Arabella sat down beside me and took my hand, lifting it up to press a kiss to the inside of my wrist. I cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably, trying desperately to will away the erection that was raging once more. “I'll be traveling back to New England this evening to have dinner with Guinevere Pendragon. I believe she knows more about the museum theft than she's admitting.”

“Indeed?” said the king. “Then, by all means, you should return and see what else she can tell you.” The king paused briefly before adding, “You know, there are quite a few attractive Tales in that area of the country, Gideon. Perhaps after you visit Guinevere you should take in some of the local sights, meet a nice young lady with whom to have breakfast, if you take my meaning.”

“I'll take it under advisement,” I replied, struggling to keep my tone even so that the king wouldn't notice any discomfiture in my voice.

“A man should not be too much alone,” the king continued, his words ironically underpinning what my libido was roaring loud and clear.

“Thank you, sire.” I swallowed hard as Arabella removed my shades, her dark eyes boring into mine. “I'll be in touch soon.”

Her gaze still locked with mine, Arabella took the phone from my hand and disconnected the call, then tossed it aside. “Are you ready to go?”

Hell, yeah, I was ...

It took me a moment to realize she was talking about the trip to Connecticut to visit Guinevere. “Oh. Oh, yeah.” I shook my head in an effort to get my shit together. “Yes, I'm ready.” I stood, pulling her to her feet.

She straightened my tie, then smoothed the shoulders of my jacket. “You are devastating, love,” she murmured. “Guinevere won't be able to resist you. Just be sure to keep her busy long enough for me to go through the house and find the ring.” She gave me a playful look from beneath her dark lashes. “And remember, this is a
dinner
date. Not dinner and breakfast, no matter what the king says.”

I chuckled. “Fear not, lass. I have no intention of spending more time with Guinevere than absolutely necessary.”

The smile that brought a dimple to her cheek was too much to resist and I bent forward, sweeping my lips across hers. Which was a mistake. Because then I had to kiss her again. And again. I wrapped my arms around her, keeping her from leaving my embrace until she'd been thoroughly kissed.

When I finally released her, she twirled out of my arms and snatched up the magic cloak, draping it over her shoulders with a flourish, a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. “Just like old times, eh? Robin Hood and Little John off on another adventure.”

I nodded, remembering well our escapades—and how they always ended with us falling into bed together naked. My cock jumped a little at the thought as if it, too, was eager to skip to the end.

Forcing myself to focus on our mission, I offered Arabella my arm. “My lady, shall we away? Your carriage awaits.”

Her brows shot up as she took my arm. “Carriage?” she repeated, snatching up her knapsack of tools as we left her room. “You plan to drive?”

I shook my head. “We won't shift on the way there because of the effect it has on you. So I have procured transportation that will have us there just in time for my dinner engagement.”

She tilted her eyes to the sky, considering our options. “Hmm . . . Witch's broomstick?”

I chuckled. “We are, indeed, flying, but not by broomstick.”

“Flying monkeys?”

“A plane awaits us at the airport,” I explained.

“That'll take hours,” she pointed out, her expression wary.

I peered over the top of my glasses and winked. “Not when I'm the pilot.”