by Viola Grace
She sighed. “I think it is best that I wear something. Is there somewhere for me to sleep?”
He looked to the huge bed and raised his brows. “Not good enough?”
She blushed. “I mean, this is your room, and I don’t want to impose.”
He walked to her, pulled the bedding back, and whipped her towel off with one hand while tucking her in. “There, all covered.”
She blinked and finally noticed the subtle lights burning in the corners of the room. The light outside was dark, and she realized that her nervous energy was the same thing she had when she was overtired. She didn’t know how long she—or rather he—had been up, but she snuggled down into the bed that smelled like apples, and when he settled in behind her, she was warm and surrounded by the scent of apples. Her body ached in a number of fun ways, and wherever she had hit her head, she would wake up eventually, or this was the gateway to the afterlife. Either way, there would be more time tomorrow.
Chapter Four
Orla woke nose to chest with a man, and she slowly looked up at him, and his eyes were closed. Even in sleep, his hair was tied back.
She examined the even tan of his skin and pressed her lips softly to his chest, flicking her tongue against him before squirming down a little so she could reach his nipples. She licked them slowly, sucked gently, and then she moved to the next one. The tight nubs were rock hard, and she bit her lip when it had become apparent that he was awake and aware.
He pulled her up and kissed her. “Good morning.”
She blushed and licked her lips. “Good morning.”
He smiled. “Well, I can’t offer you food. The food of Underhill has unpredictable properties in mortals.”
“Oh, all right.” She didn’t feel hungry, so he probably had a point.
“A moment on earth can be a hundred days here.” He groaned. “There are a lot of things I want to do with you, but I had a pang of conscience after you were so generous in defeat yesterday. Would you like to learn how to ride a horse?”
Orla smiled. “Yes, please.” Her smile faded. “I don’t have clothes.”
He smiled. “I believe I can fix that.” He flipped the bedding aside, and he was standing up in a moment and dressed.
“Oh. Right.”
She scrambled out of bed, and he looked her up and down. He cupped her breasts and muttered as if he was making notes. She put her hands on her hips. “Really?”
He smiled. “They are my favourite parts; I want to make sure they are cared for.”
She blushed brightly. He moved behind her, put his hands on her shoulders, and stroked downward. Her breasts were encased in fabric, and the skirt started low on her hips. “Skirt? No one rides side-saddle nowadays.”
“It is wide enough for you to straddle the horse.”
She lifted the black and gold gauzy skirt and checked out the heeled boots. She looked at him. “Where is the underwear?”
He walked around and admired his handiwork.
He smiled innocently. “Underwear? In my day, it was a skirt and possibly stockings.”
She looked at the choli she was wearing and the bare expanse of her midriff. “In your day, they dressed like this?”
He grinned. “I recently saw an image, and I wondered how it would work on a woman with a full bust. It does very well.”
She pulled her hair straight and tried to smooth it enough to braid it.
Lugh moved behind her and ran his hands through her hair before braiding it with expert fingers. When he tied off the end, he kissed her neck. “There. Happy?”
She turned to him. “A weird combination of comfortable and uncomfortable.”
“What makes you uncomfortable?”
“Knowing that you can wave your hand and make all my clothes disappear? That is unsettling.”
“I promise that I won’t do it unless you consent to it.”
She nodded. “Thank you. That is fine then. Can you show me where the stairs are?”
He nodded, and he opened a door, showing her the exit, and she walked down the steps from the tower, across the third floor, and down to the central stairs.
“There, are you satisfied you know the way out to make a run for it?”
She grimaced. “I wasn’t going to do that. I just had no idea where we were, and it was confusing.”
They walked out the main doors and toward the gate. When they faced the herd, he let out two sharp whistles. Two horses separated from the herd and thundered toward them, their tack appearing as they approached.
When the horses stopped near them, Lugh suddenly became a good teacher, and he went through the bit, bridle, stirrups, and adjusted them for him. He asked her to repeat everything, and she followed and paid attention.
“Right, put your foot in my hands, and I will heave you into the saddle.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Really?”
He grinned and grabbed her around the waist, settling her in the saddle and helping to get her feet in the correct position.
“I thought that the stirrups came later?”
He shrugged. “Bits flow from the mortal realm and back again.”
He got into his saddle once she was settled. “Now, the beast you are on was one of the wild hunt, and she is participating of her own volition.”
“Does she have a name?” Orla scratched her fingers through the mane.
“Probably, but I don’t know it. She will tell you if she likes you.” Lugh looked at her with a smile. “Are you ready?”
She nodded.
He explained how to flex her legs to urge the horse onward. She squeezed, and the horse shifted but would not move forward.
“Oh, you want me to do that.” She tapped her heels against the horse’s sides, and then, she braced her weight on the stirrups, bent over the neck, and hung on as the horse bolted to the herd. She grinned and steered the horse in a slow circle, coming up behind Lugh as he followed them. She pulled up, and the horse pranced proudly.
Lugh chuckled. “Of course, you have a natural touch for horses. I should have known.”
She smiled, and her breathing was fast. “Okay, that is a lot of fun.”
He gave her a sly smile. “Is it? Care to make a wager?”
She looked at his horse, and his horse was looking back with a smug expression.
“I don’t really have anything to wager.” Orla cut him off. “You can have all of the fudge that you want.”
He sighed, and his horse walked around her slowly. “I have a few other things on my list, but our time is limited, so I want the rest of the day.”
“What?”
“The rest of the day with you, and the night, and through to tomorrow.” Lugh smiled. “Maybe a little into tomorrow morning.”
She paused. “That sounds like quite a bit of chafing.”
His smile got dark. “I promise to take good care of you.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t know you.”
Her horse shifted as he got closer.
He tilted his head playfully. “You are beginning to know me.”
She swallowed as he got closer. “Yes, but a beginning is not an ending. So far, I know you cheat, sleep with your hair tied up, and play chess. That’s pretty much it. What if you go all pervert on me?”
He stopped his horse and leaned his forearms on the pommel. “What restrictions would you put into the works?”
She swallowed. “Restrictions?”
A dark light flared in his eyes. “Ah, so, I can bind your wrists and cover your eyes, but I will not cause damage or more than mild discomfort.”
Orla ignored the flutter in her stomach and below. She swallowed and held up her hand. “I need to converse with my partner.”
She eased the horse away from the guys, and she looked at the mare’s eye. “Do you think you can take him?”
The mare snorted, and her eye gleamed.
“Do you
want to do this? I am guessing that Lugh is promising his partner the same thing that he is promising himself.”
The mare snorted and nodded her long head.
She walked back to him and looked regretful as she formulated her request.
He was serious. “What’s wrong?”
She swallowed. “You have the power to send me home, right?”
Lugh nodded. “I do.”
“Then, that’s what I want if I win. I want to go home. I don’t feel... If I stay, I am going to... I need to go.”
He nodded, and his mouth was grim. “If that is the price of the wager, I agree.”
She nodded, and he held out his hand. She took it and asked, “Where are we racing to?”
He pointed to a distant hill with a single tree protruding. “And back to the castle.”
Orla’s horse muttered. She smiled. “I think she just called you an asshole.”
He gave her a grim nod.
“When the silk hits the ground.”
He took the gold silk ribbon that she had been wearing, and he threw it up into the air. She was ready, and when the first edge touched the ground, she was off. Unfortunately, he was five metres ahead of her. He was cheating.
The mare knew what to do, and her hooves barely touched the ground as she drew close and then even with the stallion. She went around the tree, and Orla reached up to get a twig to prove contact, and then it was a bolt for home.
She was ahead of Lugh, and her steed was heading for the gate when it started closing. Orla went down, and her horse went up. They cleared the gate, but Lugh and his horse were inside the keep. She teared up as she smiled at him. “You cheated.”
His horse moved toward hers, and he lifted her from her saddle. He kissed her, and she stroked his cheek. When he slid her to her feet on the steps, she felt the tug of wind, saw the leaves fluttering, and then everything went bright.
* * * *
Orla swayed, and the candy vendor caught her. “Are you all right?”
She frowned and looked at her hands. “Where did the fudge go?”
His eyes widened, and he got to work. “You must have dropped it. That’s fine. I will get you a replacement. Butter pecan, right?”
Huge, fat tears started to fall from her cheeks. “Oh, I am sorry. Um. No. Plain chocolate, please.”
Her tears fell faster, and she looked around and found a bench a few metres away. “I am sorry. Never mind.”
She staggered over to the bench and sat down while hot tears fell faster and faster.
A sympathetic hand was on her shoulder, and the vendor handed her a small bag. “Things will work out. Don’t worry.”
The words were weird, but he smiled at her; his scruffy brown-gold hair and green-gold eyes sparkled. He disappeared, and she looked at the fudge stand, and it was gone. Slowly, she lifted the bag up, and there was definitely a bag that smelled like sugary something.
She texted her friends and said she wasn’t feeling well and heading home. Somehow, the winter festival had lost its allure. She preferred autumn.
* * * *
Puck appeared in the hall of the winter king, and he looked at the autumn king. “Your Highness, what did you do to her?”
The autumn king paused. “What?”
“She’s crying. Huge, fat, warm tears.” Puck shook his head. “I think you came close to breaking her heart. Good thing you made that wager, or she would have fallen head over heels for you.”
“What did you do, Puck?” His grab was quick, but Puck was quicker.
“You said that the person who returned to the castle first was the winner. You set her on the flagstones yourself. She touched your home first. She won.”
The winter king called out, “Get him a computer and a tutor, Puck. I know that tormented expression; I see it in the mirror.”
Puck brought in the computer, and the tutor arrived right on time. He smiled and got out of there before the autumn king could live up to the promised threat in his gaze.
Two kings down, four to go.
* * * *
“When did it come out?” Dr. Leedor removed her gloves and made some notes.
“No idea. It was there a few days ago. I checked.” Orla sat up and put her legs together.
“Well, they don’t usually fall out unless they are pulled free. Did you have a partner with a piercing or something?”
Orla chuckled and shook her head. “No. Nothing like that. It has been a blissfully celibate few months, years even.”
The doc looked at her and shrugged. “If you say so.”
She wrote up some more scrips. “Here is one for a replacement. And here is one for a pregnancy test, just in case you had more of a romantic holiday than you remembered. Just in case. You don’t have to get it, but this way, you can do it on your schedule.”
The doctor also said, “You also have some bruising on your thighs.”
“I was at a winter festival Friday night. I think I fell.”
Dr. Leedor was immediately on alert. “Did you hit your head?”
“No, but I had a dizzy spell for a minute. I might have landed on my ass.” Orla shrugged. “It feels bruised.”
“Well, new year, new everything. Okay, you are ridiculously healthy, have a missing IUD, a prescription to get another, and a blood rec in case you need it. Happy New Year.”
Orla nodded and got to her feet to change back and get back to work. The winter was a busy time for donations to the museum. The generosity mingled with fatalities, and room had to be found for all of the private collections.
Her crying jags were probably caused by the hormone problem due to the missing IUD, but the reason she bawled at the taste of the caramel apple that she had gotten somewhere was a mystery.
Chapter Five
Orla looked up and smiled at the receptionist for the acquisitions department. “Hey, Una, how are you doing?”
Una grinned and patted her swollen belly. “We are great. I have been getting some calls about a new equestrian exhibit donation, and they wanted to talk to you.”
Orla blinked at the name, Lugh Fall. A tear formed in her eye, and she blinked it back. “Why me? Carlos is handling that exhibit?”
Una shrugged. “I have no idea, but he sounds hot.”
“Una, aren’t you a little far along to be lusting after strange voices?”
“How do you think I got this way?”
Orla grinned. “I thought you put an energy drink into Robert’s thermos.”
Una laughed and headed back to the front desk.
Orla typed in the location and blinked. “Whoa. This is a two-hour drive.”
She called the number and waited. When the call went through, there was an answering machine. “Hello, Mr. Fall. My name is Orla Abelan. I am calling from the Itskar Museum regarding the equestrian exhibit. Feel free to call me at my direct line.” She ran off her cell number and hung up.
She blotted at her cheeks and continued her work of locating experts to match collections.
She was on her way home when her phone rang, and she activated it through her car. “Hello?”
A voice rumbled through the speakers, and she nearly wet herself. “Ms. Abelan? I am Lugh Fall. I would like to discuss donating parts of my collection to your museum.”
She pulled over into a parking lot and put her car in park. “Thank you for returning my call.”
“Are you in your car?”
“Yes. I have pulled over for this conversation. So, do you have photographs of items that you are considering donating?”
He chuckled. “I don’t. I am not much of a photographer. I was wondering if you could come by and do an assessment. I am not much of a judge of what would appeal to museum patrons.”
She winced. “Sure. What time?”
“How about ten? I can provide coffee and lunch.”
Orla chuckled. “I will see you then.” She rattled off the location, and he conf
irmed it.
“I look forward to it.”
The call was over, and her legs were shaking. Mr. Fall could be as ugly as a toadstool, but with a voice like that, he could sell honey to bees.
She got herself together, sent an email to work about her assignment the next day, and drove home. She could shave half an hour off the drive if she left from home.
Orla stopped at the gym and did her workout; the mindless exercise and endless counting were soothing.
She headed home and set her alarm for an early start. This was not how she wanted to spend her Friday, but if she could land some nice acquisitions, she could make the administrators very happy, and happy administrators gave out bonuses.
She finished her coffee just as she got to the gate off the highway. She buzzed in. “Hello, I am here to see Mr. Fall.”
The gates with steel horses on them swung inward, and she drove through, following the plowed path to the main house. Either side of the drive was fenced, and there was an astonishingly lovely herd of horses that ran with her car as she cruised up the drive. She texted work that she had arrived safe and sound.
When she parked near the house, she got out with her camera bag over her shoulder. There were a few people near the stables, but when she took a step toward them, they pointed at the house.
Orla walked to the house, and a man wearing a snug black t-shirt and well-worn jeans greeted her.
“Ms. Abelan?”
She stepped onto the wide porch, and he opened the outer door and waved her inside. She stomped the snow off her boots and stepped inside. She unzipped her boots and set them on the black drip mat. Her coat was black leather, and he smiled slightly as he took it from her and hung it up. Her long skirt was also leather, but her blouse was soft and black with a gold ribbon at the neck.
She smiled and extended her hand. “I am Orla Abelan.”
He took her hand in a careful grip. “Lugh Fall.”
There were strangely familiar callouses on his hands, and she looked at him with a smile. “So, you have a collection of equestrian artifacts?”