Romantically Enchanted: A Twisted Fairytale Collection

by Madeline Martin

  Rollins looked good and horrified at that notion. Probably considering all the droppings such a creature could leave on his clothing as well as everywhere else. "I shall fetch a tray for your house guest, sir. If that would be all?" He sounded a little too hopeful to be dismissed. James barely refrained from laughing at the poor man's expense.

  "Very good. I have a few urgent missives to send out within the half hour. On the matters that transpired here." Luckily, he hadn't lost his writing hand. Rollins would send one of the stable boys with the letters as soon as he finished.

  IONE TOSSED and turned on the bed. It was soft and felt good against her skin, but it was too confining. Just like the nightdress they'd given her to wear that she'd shed as soon as she was alone for the night. The plate of bread and cheese, and a portion of some form of meat, had been quite good though. Different from the seaweed, fish, and crustaceans they ate in the ocean. Unfortunately, she still had an appetite, but not for food.

  Though she had never mated with a male before, she wasn't ignorant to what the body was capable of. No nymph—of land, air or water—could ignore their natural impulses. If the opportunity to use James as a means to escape her life as a sea-dwelling creature hadn't presented itself, had she'd seen the man in different circumstances, she'd have desired him regardless. He was so handsome, and though she thought her form lacking, James seemed to find it pleasing. Ione had caught him staring at her curves with a heated look more than once when he thought she wasn't paying him any attention.

  As she saw it, James wanted her, and she wanted him. It was in their nature to mate. To breed, even. His rules of the human world dictated women were delicate creatures that couldn't be tarnished. Maybe it didn't seem that way to him, but it made women sound like possessions meant to look nice upon a shelf and taken down to show off to acquaintances. She didn't really understand why he had gotten so worked up about it. He hadn't worried about his reputation being in peril, just hers. So what if a bunch of people she didn't know thought less of her for giving in to her natural instincts. Gossip among strangers couldn't do anything to hurt her, could it? Ione did not care about what anyone thought aside from James. And if he thought he would shove her away in a new life to spare her reputation—well, that wouldn't happen. She wouldn't let it.

  Besides, if she was doomed to be accused of mating with him, it would be in her best interest to make the accusations correct. Liar. You are making up excuses to take what you want.

  Shoving her inner voice aside, she flung the blankets off of her legs and climbed from the bed. To spare another lecture on clothing and modesty, Ione pulled the nightdress back on, not bothering with the matching wrapper the maid had laid out for her to use, and peeked her head into the corridor. It was dark; not a single candle was lit. Ione tiptoed out the doorway and softly shut it behind her. She'd managed to learn the location of James' room from Rollins in the event that there was a problem where she needed to find him in a hurry. She was proud of her moment of cleverness in that capacity since she might have had to creep into every room in this giant house otherwise.

  When she made it to the room at the far end of the hall, a flickering of light was visible from the crack beneath the door. James must have been kept awake as well. Was he burdened with the same desires, or were his thoughts completely set to revenge for the deed that was done to him? Was it selfish to hope they were of her?

  She knocked lightly on the door and waited as the soft thumps of footsteps moved toward her. Her heart beat twice as hard as they came closer.

  "Rollins, what—" James stopped talking, annoyance draining from his features as his gaze met hers and then dropped lower to her mouth, her neck, to all of her. He lingered a long moment on her breasts, and her nipples pebbled at the attention. His mouth gaped open and she smiled.

  "May I come in?"

  He opened his mouth and closed it several times until words came out in a husky tone, "That's hardly proper."

  "You've seen me in nothing at all, James. We are beyond proper." Her grin widened. "But, if you'd prefer to discuss it in the hall where your servants may overhear…"

  He took a step back, gesturing her into the room. After he shut the door, he whirled on her. And she took in the sight of him in nothing but the breeches he'd worn earlier when she'd rescued him. They had dried, but he needed to wash and relax. Then she spotted the open doorway to a dressing room and the tub that sat in there, full of water, untouched.

  "Your bathwater has surely gotten cold."

  "That's what I intended," he countered and stalked toward her. He backed her against the wall, settling his hook lightly against the paneling, beside her face. "Now that you've come to my chambers, in this pale nightdress that hides nothing, your hair tousled in waves I'm dying to run my fingers through, I'm going to need that water to be arctic before I can climb into it."

  Her eyes widened. What did he mean by that? Was it a method to distract himself from his needs? Why did humans deny themselves the things they wanted because of what other people thought? Perhaps he didn't really believe she'd accept him. Perhaps having the hook makes him feel unwhole and unworthy.

  Without hesitation, Ione reached up to her shoulders and peeled the nightdress down. His expression changed to surprise and longing. He backed up several steps. Something warred within him then. Likely the compulsion to talk her out of it, and the personal need for her to continue. His proper upbringing got the better of him. "What are you doing here, Ione?"

  She brushed her long hair over her shoulders, revealing her breasts one at a time and relishing the way he seemed completely enthralled despite having seen all she had to offer before. When he was injured and thought he'd die. Now he was alive and hale, and judging by the bulge in his breeches, more than willing to mate with her good and proper. Could be he'd get her with child on the first try. The image of him holding his young made her hope beyond hopes that she would bear him many children. As her family drifted apart through the long centuries, the idea of a single lifetime of love and family made her hope for it all the more. And if she became mortal, none would have fins, though the girls would be nymphs by blood.

  "Mate with me, James. Why torment yourself when what you really want is within reach?" She stepped out of the discarded nightdress and moved closer to him; he retreated with each step. When his legs hit the bed, he toppled onto it.

  Ione pounced, crawling onto his lap before he could escape from her. Without hesitation, she kissed his gorgeous lips, but it was only a pressing of her mouth to his. James, however, knew what he was doing and took control. He slipped his tongue between her lips, and she gasped as the sensation brought her more pleasure than the simple lip-to-lip touch. He tasted earthy and decadent, and her need for him amplified at the thought.

  He rolled her over beneath him and pulled back, his breathing ragged. "Are you sure about this? If we go any further, there's no going back. By all that is holy I should leave first thing in the morning for a special license to wed you if this happens."

  Again with the marriage. "Why? Can women not take what they desire?"

  His gaze flicked to the side. "Would that make you change your mind about becoming human?"

  She considered it. On the one hand, it was disappointing that women above the waves were given so little freedom sexually when her people took what they wanted, when they wanted. Of course, her people also murdered without batting an eye afterward to keep the secret of their existence—something that hadn't been an issue during the time of the ancient civilizations. Both her options had aspects she didn't like. However, if she had to behave in public, that didn't mean she had to behind closed doors.

  "Why are you smiling like that? You look like you're concocting a scheme." His brow furrowed, and his gaze dipped back to her lips.

  "I'll behave in this…Society you speak of, but when we're alone…"

  His neck moved as he swallowed. Was that sweat beading on his brow at the thought of her wanton behavior?

  "W
hen we're alone, I can't make that promise. Nymphs require passionate lovers. Frequently if they are away from their element. Mine's the sea."

  He closed his eyes and flopped to the side onto his back. "You, my dear, are going to kill me if you keep saying things like that."

  Ione stretched out beside him, rubbing her palm across his chest and down toward the bulge in his breeches. "I can hardly wait for our first coupling. You'll be the first male I've mated with. I've taken care of myself for far too long—"

  James groaned and shuddered, gripping her wrist as her fingers brushed over the part of him she was the most curious about. Then, before she could finish her thought or ask what was wrong, he flung himself out of bed, stalked toward the tub of frigid water, and dropped himself into it, breeches and all.

  CHAPTER 5

  SHE REMAINED FURIOUS WITH HIM.

  James sighed and glanced at the carriage ahead on the road. He couldn't bring himself to be trapped in the awkward silence within the carriage due to how the night before concluded. After nearly embarrassing himself at her touch and the mere thought of having her in his bed beneath him, knowing Ione had been pleasuring herself for…he wasn't entirely sure how old she was. Immortality meant she was frighteningly older than him though. And untouched by another man.

  She wanted him to be her first.

  It had been overwhelming, and with how close he had been at that moment, he didn't want to disappoint her when he only had a few days to impress her. Yet, his cold bath in the midst of her confession had confirmed, in her mind, whatever nonsensical insecurities she had about herself because she had dressed and retreated before he could come up with an excuse for his abrupt exit from the bed.

  And she had insecurities. In abundance. A fool would miss the fact that her wanting to become human was to escape her life as a mermaid. How bad could it be, though? Freedom. Not conforming to social expectations. Hell, he'd been debating whether or not to go on another smuggling expedition the night before to give him something to do. He'd kill to have the whole ocean to explore at his desire without fear of drowning should a storm or some unforeseen incident overtake the ship.

  Ione didn't want that life anymore. Since he'd met her, she'd mentioned being plain and unattractive, though God knew why she'd think such things. Ione was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Could she have been the outcast among her own kind?

  He should probably tell her he found her beautiful at the earliest opportunity, and apologize once more for his behavior the night before. They wouldn't have time to be alone together once they arrived at his father's London estate though. A pity, that.

  James glared at the carriage like it was its fault he had made a fool of himself and hurt her feelings. He'd make it up to Ione, somehow. For now, he rode outside of the carriage, and for the sake of propriety—which had started off as an excuse, but actually became a good idea for once they made it to London.

  Besides, Emily, one of the maids, rode with her. She had a cousin who worked in his father's household in London, so she had agreed to taking a temporary position as Ione's lady's maid and chaperone. Emily would have a chance to visit with her family while assisting Ione in adapting to life on land and in the city—of which she assured him would be no issue, for immortals were blessed by the gods with quick adaptation to languages and habits. That remained to be seen. Regardless, he believed it would all work out, so long as Underwood stayed away from Wendelin.

  On that subject, Rollins—who had remained behind to ensure the staff didn't go wild with gossip—had sent a stable boy ahead last night with missives for the docks and the shipping offices, as well as one to his parents. If received in time, it might delay the wretch from absconding with the ship to God knew where. He didn't exactly trust that Underwood would wait to see if James had lived before taking it, and he doubted the boy could maneuver it unless some of his posse had any sailing experience. However, it was Wendelin's first Season, and James would be damned if he didn't go to every remaining ball and outing to protect her in the meantime, all the while attempting to win back Ione's affection the next few days through the finery and dancing. Ladies liked attending balls, and Ione wanted to be immersed in life above the waves. It was the perfect way to accomplish both his goals at once.

  James smiled and imagined Ione in a ball gown, learning to dance for the first time. Would she catch on quickly or be terrible at it? Would that embarrass her, or would she find it fun to shock members of the ton with the fact that not only did he not care if she danced badly, but he would marry her anyway…if she would have him? Sure, he had three days to win her affection, but he was a gentleman, and if any of his father's staff ever even whispered the state of her arrival at Summerfield manor, she was ruined. He'd spare her that.

  He wasn't sure how long he mused about the possibilities before they reached their destination. Viscount Summerfield lived outside the most populated areas in London. The house wasn't as large or elaborate as Summerfield Manor, but since Jonathan and Michael lived in townhouses in the middle of the city, and Wendelin would need to be in town for a better chance at catching a husband, the viscount had purchased the house happily. James, preferring the solitude of country life, enjoyed having Summerfield Manor to himself when he wasn't at sea and his family was in town for the Season. When James visited, he stayed with his parents rather than one of his brothers since he avoided social gatherings when he could. And since he only came to London to sail away again, there was no point in having a property of his own without a family to provide for.

  Of course, if Ione stayed in his life, that would have to change. While he didn't like social gatherings, he wouldn't keep her from them if she enjoyed them. If she were happy, he would be too.

  He shook himself out of his musings. Servants had seen the carriage coming up the road and opened the gates to allow it to enter ahead of him. He nodded at both men and followed close behind. Hopefully, his parents wouldn't be too perturbed that he'd arrived with a guest with so little notice. A knot formed in his stomach at the thought that his parents might reject Ione for not being part of the aristocracy, or they might see through the fabrication of the story he told. He was more worried, however, about that than how they would react when they noticed his missing hand.

  He dismounted, thanking the stable boy who took the reins, and then hiked to where the carriage had pulled to a stop. In a way, it felt like the longest walk of his life. The meeting with his parents would either go well or very badly. The doors to the house opened, and he turned to assist Ione from the carriage, not wanting to shock his mother with his hook right away. A footman came forward to assist Emily down on the other side before retrieving the trunks from the back.

  Ione met James' gaze, and while some wariness remained, her expression was softer than the last time he'd seen her when she'd been highly annoyed. When she glanced over his shoulder at his family gathering in the doorway, her cheeks pinkened, and he didn't envy her their scrutiny. Lucky for her, his missing appendage would at least spare her that for a short while.

  James stepped to her left side to offer his right arm, keeping his left behind his back. He'd been resolved to revealing his dismemberment before, but now he was unsure how his family would react. Especially when he warned them of Underwood. Perhaps he had his own insecurities to cope with as well.

  "Are you sure you want to tell them about Underwood's plot?" Ione said beneath her breath, forcing a smile on her face.

  He almost tripped over his own feet. "Why shouldn't they be aware?"

  "I think you should say you didn't identify who it was."

  He glanced at her briefly, but they were almost to his family now. Dash it all, she couldn't have stopped the carriage and asked to speak to him before they had people all around them? "Fine. But I expect an explanation when we are alone later."

  "I wasn't aware you'd want to be alone with me after the last time." She arched a brow and self-cautiously tugged at the snug bodice of her blue dress. James force
himself not to gaze overlong at her chest and looked away.

  The woman really would be the death of him. "Later," he promised. He couldn't say much more since, at that precise moment, they were greeted at the base of the steps by his parents, his oldest brother, and his dear younger sister. Michael, his middle brother, was not present, but he'd recently married and they were away in Italy, so that wasn't surprising.

  "James!" his mother exclaimed. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a severe chignon, and her pale yellow gown brought out the pallor of her skin. She looked like a fragile, porcelain doll, though was anything but. His mother could be fierce. As of now, her smile wavered slightly as worry and annoyance flirted with her features. He knew both looks well, and Lady Georgette Harlow, Viscountess Summerfield, was terrible at hiding both. "We received your missive this morning saying you had to make an emergency appearance at the shipping office and needed to stay for a few nights. You neglected to mention you were bringing…a guest." Her gaze flitted to Ione.

  He cringed. Why hadn't he mentioned Ione? Oversight was not doing him any favors today. "I'll explain everything in good time." He looked to his father whose expression remained undiscernible. "Can we please continue this conversation indoors?"

  "Aren't you going to introduce us to your traveling companion?" Wendelin asked before his father could say a word, raising an eyebrow and smirking mischievously.

  "Yes," said Jonathan. "Do introduce us." He gave Ione a long, lingering look that would earn him a facer if he tried anything. He loved his brother, but the man was aspiring to become one of the ton's most notorious rogues. James hadn't quite thought things through in that regard, but since his brother had his own residence in the city, he shouldn't become a nuisance.

  "I shall tell you everything. Indoors." James would not linger about in the open any longer. By now, the footmen would have taken notice of his missing appendage while unloading the carriage, but they were trained not to react to such things. The whole household was likely to know of his deformity before his parents, and they were directly in front of him. If not for Viscount Summerfield's belief that displays of affection belonged behind closed doors and not in the open, even on his own property, that would not be the case.