The Magic of I Do (Faerie 2)

“Does it work for anyone who holds the paintbrush?”

“No. Only me. Sophia and Marcus tried it again and again, and they couldn’t go anywhere.”

“Pity for them.”

“They were always envious.” She laughed lightly at the thought.

“I wouldn’t have thought you were so precocious. You seem much more reserved than Sophia.” He quirked a brow at her. “Or are you?”

“I think I proved on the night I met you that I wasn’t as reserved as you might think.” Heat crept up her cheeks at the reminder.

“You’re pretty when you blush,” he said softly as he sat down beside her on the settee. “So, what do you want to do while we’re here?”

Claire yawned into her cupped hand. “Take a nap?” She laughed at his stricken look. But she was tired. She’d never needed as much sleep as she did right now. “Want to go to bed with me?” she asked.

***

Finn’s gut clenched at her choice of words. “Go to bed with you?” he said with a laugh. But then his voice dropped to a silky slide. “I think I already did that.”

She blushed even more profusely. “A gentleman wouldn’t mention such things.”

He chuckled. “I think we have already proven that I’m no gentleman.”

“What are you, exactly?” she asked as she scooted him over to the end of the settee. She lay down and put her head on his thigh. She looked up quickly. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“My lap is at your disposal,” he said with a flourish of his hands. She gently laid her head on his lap, and he started to run his fingers through her hair. He hit one of her pins and she flinched. He tugged it gently from her coiffure. Then he proceeded to tug them all from her hair, one by one, until her strawberry blond tresses fell over his lap in waves. “So pretty,” he breathed.

She rubbed her cheek on his thigh, rooting farther into him for comfort. She sighed heavily and the heat of her breath sank through the knee of his trousers. He ignored the heavy pounding that was starting in his manhood. If she didn’t look up, she wouldn’t even notice it. He stroked his fingers down the length of her hair. She settled against him. “Tell me about you, Finn. What are you, aside from the duke’s brother?”

She let him stroke her scalp and caress the side of her face, smiling softly as he did so. So, his little kitten liked to be petted. Evidently, she liked it a lot. He’d originally thought she was prickly, but she wasn’t. She was soft as cotton but with sharp teeth and claws when she needed them.

“I am nothing, aside from the duke’s brother.” It pained him to say that, but it was true. He had no calling. No purpose in life, aside from his amateur detective work and the crimes he solved. He didn’t even solve very many of them himself anymore, not since he’d started managing Robin’s holdings. He paid his men to do it. “I like to learn things about people. I can find a needle in a haystack.” He jostled her shoulder when she softened against him.

She snorted. “Sorry,” she said. “I told you I was tired.”

“Am I boring you?” He stroked down the length of her hair again and she purred. He felt the vibration of her throat in his leg, and heat shot straight to his groin. An erection he could ignore had just turned into one he couldn’t. He adjusted it, pushing it to the side away from her head.

“Are you comfortable?” She started to sit up, but he turned her head away from him.

“More comfortable than I think I’ve ever been,” he admitted.

“Tell me about the crimes you’ve solved,” she urged, and yawned again.

So, Finn told her all about himself, and he kept talking long after she’d fallen asleep because he was afraid that he would wake her if he stopped. He didn’t want to give up this moment for anything.

***

Claire woke to the soft rumble of… What was that noise? She moved, and the pillow beneath her moved too. Claire lifted her head to find Finn looking at her. “You snore,” she said. He’d somehow rearranged their bodies while she slept so that he was stretched along the length of the settee with her draped on top of him.

“You make a fabulous blanket,” he said, his voice raspy from sleep. He didn’t make a move to change positions, so she laid her head on his chest again.

“You make a nice pillow,” she said against his waistcoat. There was a small wet spot beneath her mouth. Apparently, she’d drooled on him. How mortifying. She moved to sit up, but he put his arms around her. “Don’t move. I like holding you.”

“Do you know what time it is?” she asked.

“No clue, but if you’d like to reach in my pocket and get my watch fob, we can check.” He yawned loudly.

“It can wait.” She didn’t want to move. She wanted to stay wrapped in his arms forever. But she couldn’t. He wasn’t of her world. And there could be no future for them.