A Lady and Her Magic (Faerie 1)

“Ballocks, Sophie,” he said quietly, his hand resting on her hip, his thumb drawing tiny circles that threatened to disarm her.

“I can’t think when you touch me,” she scolded.

He chuckled. “Yet, I can’t seem to be able to stop.”

“I have this final night,” she began. But her voice cracked and she forced herself to stop. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly for a moment, then opened them and looked directly into his. “I have this final night. Then I must catch the rising-dawn wind in the morning.”

“Must you?” he whispered.

She nodded. “I must.”

He stood up and swept her into his arms. He tossed her for a firmer hold and she squealed. “What are you doing?”

“If I have you for one night, I want to spend it in my bedchamber.” He started for the door.

***

“Wait!” she cried as he started down the corridor. He didn’t even stop to look down at her, afraid he would see rejection on her face. Ashley didn’t stop walking until he reached his chambers. He stomped past one flustered maid who plastered herself against the wall in fear, closing her eyes tightly as he passed, as though by doing so, she could erase the idea of where they were going. Because it was quite obvious he was taking Sophia to his bed.

When he entered his rooms, he dropped her feet and let her slide slowly down his body until she hit the floor. “Wait,” she muttered against his lips as he bent his head with the sole purpose of devouring her. But she giggled into his mouth at the same time and didn’t act like she wanted him to stop at all. So, he didn’t. But then her hands smacked playfully against his chest. “A moment, Ashley,” she finally said, lifting her lips from his.

Some little part of her hesitance must have finally seeped into his brain because he realized she wasn’t nearly as amorously involved as he was. Damn his eyes. He forced himself to lift his hands from her body and walked across the room, then dropped onto the bench beside his pianoforte.

“Will you play for me?” she asked tentatively.

He harrumphed. “Isn’t that what I have been doing since I met you?”

Her eyes narrowed and she regarded him stoically for a moment. “Is it?” she asked. “I certainly wasn’t playing.”

“Never?” he asked. He probably sounded like an untried adolescent.

“Not even once,” she replied, her voice crisp enough to cut through the air like a knife. “How dare you diminish the feelings I have for you by accusing me of toying with you?” Her cheeks flushed scarlet and a blush crept up her neck. He’d never seen her angry. She was quite lovely. And a force to be reckoned with when she was truly in a temper, he’d wager. But in this case, he would bet he’d hurt her feelings more than angered her. And that made his heart ache.

“You have feelings for me?” He studied her face while he asked the question.

“Would I be here if I didn’t?”

“I was holding Ronald for ransom.”

She crossed to sit beside him on the bench. “I’d have come here even if you weren’t.”

He took her hand in his. “I want to marry you.”

She shook her head, negating his words as soon as they left his lips. “I can’t live in your world. I can visit it from time to time, but that’s all.”

“Do you plan to do that?” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed the backs of them.

“Now that I have parents here, and they remember me, I suppose I’ll visit. But it won’t be enough to suit either you or me.” She shrugged. “It simply cannot be managed.”

“Tell me your secrets,” he prompted.

She laughed. “You tell me yours.”

He nudged her knee with his. “A compromise? I’ll trade you one of my secrets for one of yours.”

She looked at him askance, her gaze skeptical. But slowly she nodded.

“Why did you come to me that first night?”