Savannah Girl's Three Wishes: A New Adult Fantasy Romance

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Savannah Girl's Three Wishes: A New Adult Fantasy Romance Page 5

by Paula Millhouse


  He leaned up, took her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. “You never lost it, my love. Angus is the true hero of your story. I merely exposed those asses who wanted to steal your bar from you.”

  She stared into his eyes, thoughtful. “I just wish you… I wish…” She hesitated, and he heard in that hesitation an unspoken truth he was dying to hear.

  “What is it, Abby? What do you wish?”

  She pulled away at the last second and frowned while his heart caved in on itself. “Never mind. I’ve already spent my three wishes anyway, right? Come on. At least let me buy you dinner to celebrate this astounding afternoon. Yay! O’Malley’s is saved!”

  Abby walked away from him across the cobblestones and back toward the bar. Damn you, Dionis. If he were in his true form, Michael knew, in his proper expression of himself, she’d be in his arms right now, pressed up against that rock wall and moaning in pleasure. At least, that’s what he’d been dreaming of for the past ten years. Damn those fairies and their interference in his life!

  Abby cast a curious glance over her shoulder. “So, what do leprechauns like to eat for supper, anyway…Michael the Hero?”

  He heaved a heavy sigh and trailed down the ramp after her. This was good. She wanted to share more time with him. That was something.

  He popped a smile on his face and picked up the pace. Glancing out over the saltwater river he said, “How about seafood? I hear oysters are still in season in March, and I’ve never tried them.”

  Abby stopped dead in her tracks and turned. “You have got to be kidding me. You’ve never had oysters?”

  He shrugged. God, but she was the most beautiful creature on the planet. He barely heard her words, simply focused on enjoying the sound of her voice, the sight of her standing there with surprise on her face.

  Her eyes lit up. “I know just the place.”

  “Ummm…great,” he said, catching the odd sideways glance of a passerby. He’d forgotten the strangeness of his appearance in this land, what with the comfortable way in which he and Abby communicated. “But why don’t we go back to your house and eat there if we can? Being out in public is a huge risk for me.” He glanced at his watch. “And if we leave now, we’ll have a chance of catching dress rehearsal.”

  “Dress rehearsal?” she repeated.

  “Of the fairy ball.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Wish number three, as I recall. You set out the charms, and so they should start practicing at dusk. The real show should happen tomorrow at midnight.”

  Her face shone. “Let me collect Daddy’s treasure from the bar first. Then, home. You up for a picnic beside the river?”

  “Aye, lass,” he said quietly, thinking of the old days. “That would be fine. I’d love to share a picnic with you.”

  Chapter 7

  ABBY SPREAD OUT their picnic blanket forty-five minutes later. She loved the spot Michael picked, with a view of the blue-green river cresting at high tide and the grand old live oak close by. They laid out the food and sat down together on the soft blanket, and Abby paused to enjoy the moment. It was the first they’d shared where she felt at peace with the universe.

  She’d changed her business clothes for a softer, more comfortable, cream-colored linen top decorated with loose falling ruffles, and for slacks that tied at the waist. She wore soft cream-colored shoes made of fabric. Michael had removed his hat and his jacket and loosened his vest. They sat cross-legged, opposite each other, and hovered over the feast as intently as they’d inspected Angus’s treasure.

  Abby smelled the salty seafood, and her stomach growled. “I’m starving.”

  “Aye, and we’ll be needing something to wet our whistle.”

  Michael poured out two Irish beers while Abby picked out an oyster knife and showed him how to scoop the treat out of its shell. As she dipped one in extra horseradish and popped it into her mouth, she let her eyes linger on him. There really was something unmistakably appealing.

  He worked an oyster with his knife, and soon he got it free. His face lit up when the tang of the horseradish hit his tongue. “Salty and sweet, cold as ice, and that horseradish bites.” He took a swig of beer.

  Abby giggled, thrilled. This was sheer heaven, sharing a meal with someone comfortable. Somewhere along the day Michael McKnight had turned into more than an argumentative leprechaun—he’d turned into her friend. His magic had saved her property, and even though she’d caught him and been technically “due” the wishes, the gratitude coursing through her heart made him grow substantially in her eyes.

  She liked Michael’s company and wondered how long he’d stay. What did leprechauns do with their time, anyway?

  “Eat more. Please. Oohhh,” she realized. “Wait until you taste the fried shrimp!”

  A buzzing of wings brought a flurry of activity. Abby’s first impulse was to swat at the sound, but Michael caught her arm and stopped her. He grinned, put his finger to his lips and whispered, “Fairies.”

  Abby’s blue eyes widened. She relaxed, and suddenly three fairies, each just four inches tall, came into focus hovering in midair. Her heart bounded in her chest and she realized, This is really happening! Magic was returning to her world. Perhaps it had been there all along—perhaps the dancing fairies from her childhood had been real. She wanted to believe they were. But either way, Michael McKnight had brought this magic with him. She had him to thank today.

  Of course, what did the reality of fairies mean for her long-lost imaginary friend? Her heart suddenly beat faster.

  One of the fairies alit on Michael’s shoulder and whispered in his ear. The leprechaun nodded and said, “Yes. Tell the king that Abby’s property is safe, so the production of the fairy ball is set for midnight tomorrow.” He turned his gaze to Abby. “If that’s still okay with you, lass?”

  She opened her mouth to speak but only nodded, the sheer presence of the little fairy stealing her words. Heart racing, she held up her arm and pointed at the tiny winged male whispering in Michael’s ear, and awe filled her when a female fairy dressed in a blue leotard and matching blue shoes and tights landed on her outstretched hand.

  “Hello,” said the tiny fairy. Her iridescent wings flexed taut then relaxed behind her back. “My name is Matilda.”

  Michael leaned forward, his green eyes sparkling. He pointed and said, “Matilda, meet my friend Abby.”

  Matilda strutted forward on Abby’s arm then paced back to her hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you.” She curtsied. “This is the perfect place for the fairy ball.”

  Abby felt her face split in a huge smile.

  Matilda looked from Abby to Michael to the male fairy on Michael’s shoulder. She gestured emphatically and said, “Say hello to Abby, Nicholai!”

  He did, and Abby waved back. Matilda flew to Abby’s shoulder and whispered in her ear, “I swear, boy fairies have no manners. Forgive him, please. That third guy up there that won’t land? He’s a royal guard. Did you know Queen Melise herself and her entire entourage will be in attendance tomorrow night? And the fairy king. Have you picked out your dress? I’m a dancer, you know.” The little fairy flew back down to Abby’s hand and spun out a triple pirouette.

  Nicholai put his hands on his hips. “Save it for rehearsal, Matilda. We have to go.”

  Michael took a sip of his beer as the three fairies buzzed away in a wake of fairy dust, then he set to work on another oyster like nothing spectacular had just occurred. “They’ll come out at dusk,” he reminded her, “and I expect it to be worthwhile. They’ll have to have music tonight. The band will want to practice.”

  Abby touched the spot on her hand where Matilda landed. Her skin still prickled with chills. “You know,” she said, “I saw them before.”

  “Who, Matilda and Nicholai?” Michael nibbled on a shrimp.

  Abby shook her head and chewed on nostalgia. “No, but when I was a little girl they came here to dance. Then, suddenly, it seemed like I grew up and
they were gone. Oh, Michael, they’re so beautiful. Did you get a good look at Matilda’s wings?”

  “Darlin’, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

  She’d grown so used to his endearments, she hardly even noticed when he used them now. It just felt…right.

  While they ate, they slipped into easy conversation. “Where exactly do all of you come from?” she asked Michael. She really didn’t know anything about leprechauns or fairies, apart from the fact that her father had apparently set out welcome charms for them. She wondered if he’d ever actually seen them. If he had, he’d never said so specifically—or maybe like the treasure hidden in the bar he’d just forgotten.

  Michael popped another fried shrimp in his mouth, rolled his eyes with pleasure, swallowed and said, “I was born in Ireland, like your father’s ancestors. My people were once tall, fierce warriors who protected the clans from raids and kept peace.”

  “Oh.” He certainly wasn’t a tall fierce warrior anymore, but he had gone after Finnegan like a terrier set to task. Abby smiled and drank her beer. “I didn’t know that. And why do you wear your, um…that bright green suit?”

  He chuckled, took a sip of beer and reached for another oyster. “Ahh, well, let’s just say it’s sort of a tradition. At least for me.”

  Abby nodded. Clearly he wasn’t going to offer up too much information about his fashion choices. “Do you give away a lot of gold?”

  “I’m learning to share,” he replied. “It’s been a difficult thing for me in the past. It’s not in my nature to give away my gold.”

  “Well, who would? You only do that when someone catches you, right?”

  A strange look flashed across his face, followed by a serious expression. “Trouble is, the love of money is a real problem, whether it’s in your nature or not. Look at how it turned Finnegan into a thief. Now he’s learned his lesson.”

  Abby nodded. “Some lessons can be hard.”

  “And some are harder than others.”

  She sipped her beer and wondered about his words. They seemed fraught with meaning, and he seemed full of sadness. Then he pulled out the lobster and cracked the tail, offering her the first succulent bite. That only confirmed her opinion of him. “I think you’re good at sharing, Michael.”

  He shrugged. “It’s easy with you.”

  “Yeah? Well, you remind me of a friend I knew once.”

  Green eyes snapped up to hers. Lost in their depths, all at once she wished Michael could stay. She wished he were a man, a real man, a man like the one her old friend would have grown into. She’d never found a human who made her feel like this, so comfortable, so safe, and it seemed a shame to give that up now that everything was settled. It seemed impossible, but she said the words anyway. “I wish you could stay with me.”

  The leprechaun blasted up on his knees. “What did you say, lass?”

  Abby tried to smile, but her face fell. “I know. I know. We’re too different to ever have a real human relationship, and I’m all out of wishes now, but…”

  “Go on, Abby.” Michael leaned in close and stared into her eyes. This time, she didn’t pull away. What had before seemed like licentious leprechaun shenanigans now seemed…cute. Intense. Beautiful. “For the love of God, woman, please tell me what you’re wishing for now?”

  “I wish you could be a man. You know, a human man. Michael, I wish that somehow you could stay and keep me company. I wish you could be my one true love.”

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked like he would crow to the heavens. “Say it again, Abby.”

  She narrowed her eyes but repeated the words. “I want you to stay with me. We’re so comfortable together. You’re the only one besides my father who’s ever stood up for me. You’ve blessed my life with goodness and I wish…I wish you could be my one true love.”

  Lights blinked on at the edge of the woods, and her words were drowned out by an ensemble of fairies. Their symphony of wings sounded out like an orchestra as they hovered in close. A wind picked up Abby’s hair, and a swirling vortex suddenly lifted Michael off the ground. He cried out. He writhed in that tornado of magic wind, his red-gold hair whipping about him, and his body sparkled and shone.

  Abby jumped up, scared. “Michael, what’s happening? Come back to me! Someone help him, please! Stop torturing him. Give him back to me this instant!”

  At her words, the fairy magic set Michael back on Earth, but transformed. Abby reared back and covered her mouth with her hand. The tiny body of her leprechaun friend had vanished, and now Michael McKnight stood six-foot two, as motionless and magnificently formed as a sculptor’s statue of a god, only a remnant of his green leprechaun suit covering his significant parts. His face formed into the adult features of the boy she’d loved as a child.

  It was too much. Abby’s knees collapsed, and once again she crashed toward the Earth.

  †††

  Michael

  Abby’s sapphire eyes blazed with shock and confusion, and Michael reacted, launching out toward her and once again catching her as she fell. It was easier this time, in his new-old body, and he scooped her up into his arms and pulled her close. She stared wide-eyed at his face, and he let the thrill of his true form burn happily through him.

  “You’ve got to get hold of yourself, Love,” he said. “I know you fancy me and all, but you’re gonna crack your head open if you keep fainting at the sight of me.”

  She reached out and touched his face. He turned his head and kissed her hand.

  “Where’ve you been?” she whispered.

  “Paying penance for my sin of greed. I’m so sorry I had to leave. The fairy king banished me for ten years, but the second they freed me I came as fast as I could.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

  “A condition of my curse. The monarchs wanted to know how serious I was about what I learned.” When she pulled his head toward hers, mesmerized, he only lightly grazed her lips with his own. First he said, “I’ve loved you forever, Abby.”

  She burst into tears.

  “Don’t cry,” he begged. “I never wanted you to cry. I’m so sorry, lass.”

  He pulled her close and stroked her back with his hands. His lips sought hers, and their mouths tangled in the wonderful dance that became their first real kiss. Tiny lights glimmered all around, mostly at the edge of the property, but they moved closer while Michael and Abby kissed. Music struck up. The fairies played a string section, percussion, and woodwinds in their orchestra. The music grew as if it embodied a living thing, and the lawn and trees soon filled with dancing fairies. Michael and Abby hardly noticed. They kissed and held each other close, embracing, swaying slowly to the sounds of their hearts.

  Finally they took a break. Michael wasn’t certain how far he wanted to go with a hundred dancing fairies watching his very first attempt at seduction. When he turned and motioned, Abby watched the dance troupe work up their routine. The sheer joy written in her expression caused him a goofy smile he could not shed.

  They cleared away the remnants of their feast, and Abby lit candles against the impending dusk. Michael sat back down on the blanket and pulled her into his arms to watch.

  “You were right,” she murmured. “Watching them together like this is more beautiful than I could ever have imagined.”

  Two fairies buzzed in and inspected their candles. They whispered about the ambient lighting.

  After a short time, Michael stood up and offered Abby his hand. She took it, and the two of them danced on the lawn to the music. It reminded them both of their youth, and neither one spent any attention on the fairies. Lost in each other’s eyes, they let their hearts lead their footsteps.

  When the last song was done, Michael scooped her into his arms and strode toward the house. Could he do this? Could he show Abby exactly how much he loved her, how much he wanted her to love him? Could he open himself up like this? He damn well intended to try. Time was short.

  Of course, the tr
ip inside was torture. He banged his ankle trying to close the front door.

  She lifted an arm toward her bedroom. “Leave it,” was all she managed before he took her lips.

  He rammed his shoulder into the doorframe of her bedroom when he pivoted to protect her body, but after that it was smoother sailing. Her king-sized bed beckoned, and when he laid her there, his knees sank into divine softness. In his old life he slept on a cot. This mattress was like a pillowy cloud of heaven.

  Instinct drove him wild, and he ripped off his shirt. He wanted to see her body now, and his trembling fingers tried to loosen the buttons on her blouse. Finally he ripped the thing, confounded, and waited to see her reaction. Abby’s throaty moan spurred him onward.

  She took his hands and placed one on each breast then arched her back to him and groaned with pleasure. He gasped. Her lacy bra barely contained her breasts, and suddenly his clothes were too constricting as well. His desire for her had been discomfort since he first kissed her, and now his body throbbed with the need for release.

  She put her hands on his belt, tugged and unfastened his pants, setting the damn thing free in one swift move. “Oh,” she said, as his pants pooled at her feet.

  Her eyes were wide, and he glanced at himself—even he had to admit everything about his new body was impressive. Then he snapped his eyes back to hers. She wore an expression of shock. His heart hammered in his chest until she reached out and touched him.

  His mind reeled with pleasure and pain. If he didn’t make love to Abby soon he was going to explode.

  His knees bent, and he sucked in a breath between clenched teeth at the insane pleasure of her touch. She smoothed the damp head of him with her thumb, and he thought he’d die from ecstasy. He watched her lick her lips, his heart still pounding as Abby smiled. An unbidden moan escaped his lips.

  “Incredible,” he said as he filled his palms with her breasts. This was everything he’d dreamt of for the past ten years. Everything and more.

 

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