“Och now … my little tart … give me all ye have … and I’ll be doing the same …” He moaned as he shoved himself deeper and racked her body with pleasure.
As she started to go off, he allowed himself release. They shuddered as one before he took her in his arms and laid her back down beside him.
She shifted onto her back, and his fingers played with her nipples. Had it only been yesterday, she wondered, that she lay dying in the Fallen Druid’s prison and in so much pain?
All the pain was gone, as were any signs of an injury, but the memory was there, along with the continued admiration for the human race. She thought of young David. She needed to visit with him and his family soon …
Chance had fallen asleep, so she slowly, quietly got out of bed and made her way to the shower. Clothes? Would she be able to open a small portal to retrieve her clothes from her wardrobe in Faery?
She closed her eyes and concentrated. Yes! Oh yes, she was getting stronger. She produced a drawer full of clothes and laid them out on a nearby chair. The blue summer dress with the spaghetti straps and her pretty leather sandals—perfect.
Right, so what she needed to do was wash, dress, and stretch her legs!
* * *
Dravo—so very different than her world of Tir. She took a good long whiff of air; it wasn’t as sweet as Faery air, but it was fresh and lovely. It was a shade closer to the air in the Human Realm. She looked around at the LeBlanc Manor grounds and chose a path that would take her towards the stables and pastures.
She wanted to explore his world and know him through it.
The stable building was Old World in style but had all the modern amenities. Automatic water spouts in the stalls. Beautiful brass fixtures, heavy hardwood flooring.
She went out the back of the barn to stare at his horses in their paddocks. They were prime blood, each and every single one. A mother grazed while her young foal danced in the clover. A stallion called to her from the stud paddock across the sandy road. The scene was absolutely breathtaking.
She was getting her magical strength back. She knew she would need it when they finally faced Pestale. It would take all their combined powers to defeat him because he was ruthless and made his decisions without emotion. He would concentrate all his efforts in winning, no matter the cost. They did not have that luxury—cost always factored in.
She wandered down a bridle path and found the aroma of pines and wildflowers intoxicating—and so much like Tir.
The thought drew a heavy sigh. What was she going to do? She was in a mess of love, but was he? He certainly wanted her and had made that all very clear. She smiled as she remembered how sweetly he had caressed her. Yes, it was more than lust—there was something there. He hadn’t yet really said the words. He had showed her she was special to him, but he had not said the words or promised her more than the ‘now’. She certainly hoped it wasn’t wishful thinking on her part, but she believed that he loved her.
Obstacles would definitely present themselves to their union. His people, hers … the queen? His world, her world—where would they reside?
She looked up at the sound of a twig breaking and was astonished when she looked into eyes so much like Chance’s that for a moment she almost ran to him.
Walking towards her was a man who could have passed as Chance’s twin—except he had just a bit more age than Chance.
His father, she knew immediately; it could only be his father. What would he think? What would he say? Would he hate her on sight because she was a Fae?
“Good morning to ye, Princess Royce,” he said with an inclination of his head as he came forward. “I am Chance’s da, Morgan.”
She smiled warmly, so relieved to see a welcome in his eyes. “However did you know my name?”
“How could I not? ’Tis all m’boy spoke of when he was in the kitchens yesterday telling Cook just what she must prepare for ye.”
Her lashes lowered with a shy pleasure she could not explain, and Morgan LeBlanc laughed out loud. “Aye, I see it, lass—aye that I do.”
“See it?” she asked in some puzzlement.
“Don’t be backwards in this,” he cautioned. “This is yer time, and doona let it go.” He sighed and added, “I’ll tell ye something, lass—that lad of mine has never brought a woman into our home before. Ye be the first. Ye will do well to remember that.”
&nbs
p; “Oh … that is because I was injured in battle …” she started to explain.
He barked out a short, gruff laugh. “Blind, are ye? Very well. So be it.”
“What are you saying, sir?”
“Doona ye know?” He shook his handsome head and released a long sigh. “It won’t be easy—he isn’t a pliable man, but … you’ll do.”