“Great,” Glenn said. “What are you drinking?”
“You’re all right, son, I’ll catch you next time,” Lewis said comfortably. “Got to get back.”
It was certainly a start, Izzy thought, impressed. After she helped carry the round across to the table, she nipped to the ladies’ and was surprised when she emerged from the toilet cubicle to find Fiona waiting by the wash basin.
“I want to make a confession,” Fiona blurted. “Especially since Ray was arrested and all this stuff about him started to come out. I’m pretty sure you’re Anna Kemp, and I think I might have dropped you in it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Izzy said, turning on the tap and reaching for the soap. “We sorted a few things out, as it happens. He was even there when we found Mary’s diary.”
“Yes, well, that’s an amazing find,” Fiona said, grasping the changed subject with obvious relief. “Worked out brilliantly for the programme.”
Izzy smiled faintly. “You didn’t waste your time coming all the way back up, then?”
“Lord, no. Going home to my parents for the weekend anyway. London can be too hectic.”
“Tell me about it,” Izzy said, drying her hands. She opened the door.
“So, you and Glenn…?” Fiona asked archly as they left together. There was more than a speck of personal interest in her eyes too, so Izzy had no intention of fuzzing her answer.
For the first time ever, she stated her claim with pride. “Yes, me and Glenn.”
The Auld Hoose was too small and cramped for Glenn to be comfortable there for very long, so after one drink, the party broke up, and Fiona got into her car to drive down to Edinburgh. Since Dave the cameraman had booked into the B&B for another night, he and Louise walked back up to the big house with Izzy, Jack, Glenn and Chrissy, while Dougie went off for his Friday night blow-out in Fort William.
Jim, bless his heart, had prepared a big load of pizzas before leaving, so Chrissy put a couple in the oven while everyone sat around the living room, chatting.
To Izzy, the house had a subtly different feel these days, even in the library. There was still age and atmosphere in abundance, but she’d lost some of that strange sense of presence, as if whatever ghosts still lurked here were mere memories now. Even Glenn had stopped dreaming. For the present, at least.
To make way for another bottom, Izzy moved a couple of sheets of papers from an armchair. They seemed to be plans of some kind.
“For the attic,” Glenn said beside her. “Bring them, and I’ll show you what I’m thinking about.”
“Attic?” Jack said at once. “Can I see?”
“Not until Mr. Dunn’s fixed the floor,” Izzy said. “You wait here and be good. And don’t scoff all the pizza before I get back!”
Glenn seemed in such a hurry to get there that once he’d closed the door at the foot of the attic stair, she said, “Have you enticed me up here for nefarious purposes, Mr. Brody?”
He threaded his fingers through hers and kept climbing. “They crossed my mind, Ms. Ross.”
“Thought so.” They were crossing hers now too, causing her heart to beat like thunder.
“Unless you object,” he added, and it almost broke her heart that he still believed she might, as if he really didn’t know she wasn’t so completely and utterly besotted with him that she’d do anything just to be with him for another hour, another minute.
She stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to him, reaching up to hold his rough face between her hands. “Why would I object?”
“Maybe quick and dirty wears thin.”
She touched his lips, drawing one fingertip along the seam. “Not with you. I love quick and dirty with you.” His lips stretched into a smile, kissed her exploring finger and then her mouth. He wedged her into the doorframe with his hips. His erection hardened and grew against her, and she wriggled as lust soared between them. She hooked one leg over his thigh and moaned as his bulge found her aching if well-covered clitoris.
He pulled down his zip. “So,” he said unsteadily, “about these plans.”
“What about them?” She drew his hot tongue into her mouth, caressing it with her own.
He responded with enthusiasm. Then, releasing her mouth, he said, “We can get rid of the partitions, make these two big rooms into one living room.” His hand thrust between them, pulled down her zip. “Which still leaves room for a kitchen, a bathroom and three decent-sized bedrooms, including one in that tower which is blocked off just now, but which we can get into easily through the end wall. Christ, you’re so wet. I love that.”
He slid out of her reach to tug down her jeans and knickers and press his lips to her tummy and thigh. She loved his oral sex, but right now she clamoured for something earthier, stronger, deeper. Somehow, she still managed to hold on to the thread of conversation, mostly to tease herself and him. It was like a game, to see who lost coherence first.
“Like a flat?” she gasped, tugging at his sweater to draw him back up to her. He came without any more persuasion, tearing off his sweater and T-shirt before turning his attention to hers. She cooperated fully. Then he cupped her pussy in his hand and gripped, and she gasped, almost falling over the edge of bliss.
“Yes,” he said, circling his hand around her folds, stirring her clitoris unbearably. She pressed trembling lips to his throat, grazed her teeth along his warm skin. “A flat. And you see this dinky little porch thing on the drawing, running from my roof-garden door to the attic window, which I’ve used frequently in the last couple of weeks to sneak in here to fuck you.”
She moaned and jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist. His arms closed around her, his hands under her bottom, lowering her onto his cock. She slid onto him with a shuddering cry that she buried in his mouth, wrapping both arms around his neck. He pulled back, then rammed into her hard, jamming her up against the doorframe. And then, buried in her as far he could go, he stopped.
“I love doing this to you. And I’ll happily go on for as long as you’ll let me. It’s exciting and sweet and fun. But sometimes…longer wound be nice too. All night would be…best. I can’t stay at yours. I’d like you and Jack to be able to stay here and feel safe and comfortable.” He kissed her, hard, almost angrily. “And still do this.” He began to move again, purposefully now.
She seized his face between her hands, thrusting back, kissing back between panting breaths. “Are you choosing this moment to ask me to live with you?”
“Yes,” he said, thrusting harder. “I thought I’d have more chance of success when you were about to orgasm.”
“Oh, I am,” she whispered. She hung on to him, gazing into his clouded, passionate eyes, moving herself up and down until the rising tide broke and she fell. He rammed into her again, and again, and fell against her in shuddering climax.
Her legs dangled loosely, her feet not quite touching the floor as she clung to him with both arms. At last, he staggered back to the other side of the doorframe and sank down it to his knees with her still impaled on him.
Still breathing hard, he leaned his forehead against hers. “I know it’s soon. I just want you to think about it.”
“Why?” she asked.
A frown flitted across his brow.
“Why do you want to live with me?” She thought she knew the answer. But she needed to know. So much rested on it, not just for her, but for him, and for Jack, and for this unexpected, wonderful chance at happiness.
“Don’t you know?” he asked huskily. “I love you. Even in prison, before I met you, I loved you. Even here, when you were too scared to speak to me, I loved you. And now… It’s like something amazing’s happening between us, and I don’t want it to end.”
She’d never seen that look on his face before. Not even staring down the barrel of a gun. It was fear. Of losing her, of messing up. It almost broke her heart.
&n
bsp; She kissed his lips over and over. “It won’t. I know it won’t, even without second-sight—because I love you too, as I’ve never loved anyone in my life and never will again. And as well as all that, I trust you.”
His eyes searched hers, and then he nodded, as if he understood everything implied by that trust and accepted it. A smile spread over his face, and he lunged forward, stretching her out beneath him, dangerously close to one of the rotted floorboards. “Then I think we’ll get away with another quickie before the search parties arrive.”
She laughed, breathless but willing. “I suppose you saw that in a dream too?”
“No,” he confessed, rocking inside her. “I took the precaution of locking the attic door. How’s that for trust?”
“Perfect,” she breathed into his mouth.
Mary, once the lady of Ardknocken, gazed down at the lovers with gladness. The wild turbulence that had characterized her short life and held her spirit captive in this house for so long had finally calmed. She was fading, moving on to where she should have been long, long ago. Because she’d confessed her sins at last and could let go.
The lovers below had read her confession and her remorse with an excitement she hadn’t expected. But their understanding and forgiveness still surrounded her and made her weep, not now with shame but with release. And her tears, no longer physical, were dissolving all that was left of her here on the earth.
Now, at last, she was glad to go, to leave the woman who might have been her daughter in the arms of the man who had once seemed to trouble her so deeply. The man who’d finally understood what Mary had shown him, because he too was atoning. All Mary had wanted was love, and she’d traded her immortal soul for a man who was neither her husband nor worthy to be so.
But there were no moral or legal barriers to part these two lovers embracing within Mary’s fading vision. Their chance of happiness, their tender delight in each other, made Mary weep harder. She turned slowly away from their love toward the darkness which no longer seemed so black to her. In fact, it glistened and brightened with her tears, like a night sky scattered with stars, welcoming and absorbing her. She reached for it with quiet joy, because her centuries of torment had ended, and she was going home.
About the Author
Marie Treanor lives in Scotland with her eccentric husband and three much-too-smart children. Having grown bored with city life, she resides these days in a picturesque village by the sea where she is lucky enough to enjoy herself avoiding housework and writing sensual stories of paranormal romance and fantasy.
Marie is the award winning author of over forty sexy paranormal romances—Indie, New York and E-published.
You can find out more about Marie and her books on her website: www.MarieTreanor.com.
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Look for these titles by Marie Treanor
Now Available:
Killing Joe
Gothic Dragon
Ariadne’s Thread
The Devil and Via
Queen’s Gambit
Requiem for Rab
Fairytale Fantasies (with Bonnie Dee)
Cinderella Unmasked
Demon Lover
Awakening Beauty
Behind every beautiful shoe is a sexy shoemaker…
Sex and the Single Princess
© 2012 Bonnie Dee and Marie Treanor
Fairytale Fantasies, Book 4
Will Shoemaker works his fingers to the bone to make quality footwear worthy to grace the feet of the king’s six daughters. But recently his one-of-a-kind creations have been coming back to him in tatters.
Determined to find out what is destroying his shoes—and threatening his position as royal cobbler—Will follows the princesses and discovers they’re dancing their nights away in a fairy world. The princess with the fastest feet is Iris, whom he has long loved from afar.
With an arranged marriage looming in her future, Iris wrings as much pleasure as possible out of her last days of freedom. Yet even as she whirls in the arms of an elven prince, she dreams of the lowly cobbler and fantasizes that it’s his work-roughened hands on her delicate skin.
In a magical realm where anything is possible, Will and Iris shatter all barriers between them and find the ultimate fantasy—love—in each other’s arms. But there’s betrayal and treachery afoot...and it’s poised to destroy everything on both sides of the veil. Including any chance of happily ever after for Iris and Will.
Warning: Contains sexy shoe fittings, handsome elf princes and a whole lot of dancing, political intrigue, swordfights and sex. You may never look at shoes the same way again.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Sex and the Single Princess:
Iris wore a gown of her signature deep, iris blue. It was cut low at the neck as was suitable for evening dress, and hung in full, luxurious folds from the gathering under her breasts. She looked more stunning than Will had ever seen her. Distant in her glamorous ball gown and formally dressed hair, as a princess should be, and yet with a glow of excitement in her dark eyes, in the delicate flush of her soft cheeks that made her irresistible. Will couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Her shoes, fine, elegant slippers which he’d considered a masterpiece, were showing sad signs of wear. There was staining at the side, and the heel appeared worn enough to have been danced on for an average lifetime. He’d better have finished the new kid shoes by tomorrow night. If he was still here tomorrow night.
Iris, Dahlia and Rose went to the side of Iris’s bed and, much to Will’s surprise, began to shove at it with all their strength. It was obviously heavy, for it shifted very slowly until the other three joined in as well, and then it slid much more easily across the floor to lie several feet forward into the middle of the room and half across the bed next to it.
Iris bent and felt the floor with her hands until she found the purchase she sought. Then she lifted a floorboard. Will heard the creak of it coming free, though he couldn’t see what she was doing until Pansy moved. Iris stood and pressed on something under the floorboard with her foot.
Before his eyes, part of the wall behind the bed began to disappear. It didn’t make a noise, just slid away with the ease of frequent use. With quick smiles at each other, the princesses walked into the dark hole in the wall.
Will closed his mouth. He’d been right. There really was a secret passage. He rose to his feet, stretching his aching muscles, and emerged warily. One of them could come back. Or he could follow too closely and be seen. On the other hand, he didn’t want the door shutting behind them in case it took him ages to find how to open it again.
He sprinted across the room and followed the princesses into the wall.
Inside, the only light was from the bedroom lamps behind him, and when he rounded the first corner, he didn’t even have that. He had to feel his way around the stone walls of the tunnel, isolated in the enveloping blackness. He had no idea how far ahead of him the princesses were, for they moved silently in their dancing slippers, and for once, they’d stopped talking. Only their perfume wafted back to him. Among it, he was sure he could pick out Iris’s—light, spicy, intriguing.
And then he trod on something that resisted. He leapt back at the sound of a female yelp.
“What is it?” came another voice. “Honey? What’s the matter?”
“Someone grabbed my gown! I felt it!”
“Don’t be silly, Honey,” said Iris’s voice. “You just caught the gown on a rough bit of stone. Come on, hurry! I really want to dance tonight.”
Will didn’t allow himself to breathe until he was sure they’d all moved on. Then, determined not to be distracted again, he walked carefully onward. The tunnel wound downward in a
spiral shape that left him totally disoriented. Ahead, a creaking sound, like a large hinge, brought him up short. A shaft of moonlight shone into the passage, revealing the outlines of the six princesses ahead of him. Although he flattened himself against the wall, he needn’t have bothered. None of the princesses so much as glanced behind them, just hurried eagerly outside. They didn’t even shut the door.
Will followed more slowly until he too stood outside under the moonlight.
Moonlight. The clouds had been thick and stormy only minutes ago, obscuring pretty much all the natural light of the night sky. He’d noticed from the princesses’ window. So how come the heavens were now scattered with the glow of a million stars and a bright, full moon?
He looked quickly about him. This was undoubtedly the king’s palace, although he’d never seen it from this angle before. In fact, turning, he couldn’t recognize any of the landscape before him. Where were the formal gardens? The distant hills? Instead, there was a path leading to what seemed to be a lake.
No. There was no lake near the palace. There was a narrow stream and an ornamental fish pond, but that was as much water as he’d ever seen within miles of the place.
The princesses were hurrying along the path in the direction of the lake. Something was wrong about that too. They weren’t wearing cloaks, only their thin ball gowns with naked arms and shoulders and chests. They should have been freezing, but their hurry clearly had nothing to do with the cold. Will himself wasn’t cold. This place was as balmy as a midsummer’s night though it was still early spring. And the ground wasn’t damp. It was dry, a little stony in places. It would, he thought, be doing a lot of damage to thin-soled dancing slippers.
Will followed the princesses, keeping well back out of sight. The night was incredibly beautiful, the moon’s rays shining silver onto the tree at the start of the path. But as he drew closer, he realized with amazement that the tree was silver.
Pausing, he reached up in wonder to touch the silver leaves. Surely a trick of the light… But no, both branches and leaves were silver, tinkling under his fingernails when he tapped them.
In His Wildest Dreams Page 21