Chapter 34
In Which a Spell Is Cast and Magic Is Made …
The Guardia Nimbus butterfly that rested above Christopher’s head, lazily flapped its lilac-hued wings as Mina softly closed the bedroom door.
After a rousing evening of drawing room picnicking and parlor games, both Christopher and Tom were exhausted.
In fact, when Phinn read the boys a bedtime story at half past eight, it was Tom—usually the more energetic of the pair—who’d nodded off first in the additional bed that had been set up on the opposite side of Christopher’s room.
The boys, now the very best of friends, had decided that they would love to share the same bedchamber, and neither Mina nor Phinn had had any objections.
Indeed, the Guardia Nimbus spell would also protect Tom.
A butterfly with soft lavender wings had settled upon his pillow, just above his head when Mina had cast the spell.
Mina prayed that Mab wouldn’t be able to deploy any elvish kidnappers to the children’s room, that the wards of her prison would hold, but nevertheless, and in accordance with Mrs. Temple’s recommendation, it wouldn’t hurt to employ extra precautions to ensure both boys were as safe as could be throughout the night.
But Mina didn’t want to think about the Fae or Mab or her minions any longer.
Especially when she turned to face Phinn, who’d been waiting for her to emerge.
He’d ditched his constrictive coat during the drawing room shenanigans and was dressed informally in his shirtsleeves, a black silk waistcoat, loosened cravat, and dark trousers.
And the way he was regarding her, with such tender adoration, Mina was tempted to pinch herself to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep and was dreaming.
Gathering Mina into his arms, he kissed her gently. “If I hadn’t just seen you cast that spell with me own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed such a thing were possible,” he said, his voice threaded with quiet awe. “What an absolute marvel you are, Hermina Davenport. And you’re all mine.”
She laughed softly and touched his poor bruised jaw. His cheekbone still bore a graze, but a special ointment that she’d found in her uniform’s pocket had helped to heal his split lip. “I am. Completely yours. But the magic”—she waved a hand at the bedroom door—“that’s all thanks to the Fae.”
“Darlin’ Mina,” he said, tracing a gentle fingertip down her cheek. “In my eyes, you are the magic.”
Oh … Mina swallowed as her throat tightened with so much love, she didn’t think she could speak.
She placed her hands against Phinn’s solid chest to reassure herself this beautiful man was real.
And indeed he was. She could feel his heat and the steady thump of his heart beneath her palm.
“Phineas O’Connell. I think I’ve been waiting for someone like you my whole life,” she murmured huskily.
“You’re a gift I never expected to receive and I will treasure you every single day, now and always. ”
Reaching up, she kissed Phinn, and his mouth was soft and warm and welcoming.
When they drew apart, and Mina met his gaze, an emotion—something akin to speculation or a question perhaps—flickered in the depths of his gorgeous green eyes.
And Mina knew what he was going to say, and she knew what her answer would be, even before he spoke.
“Would you consider spendin’ the night with me in me suite?
” he asked as he laced his fingers through hers.
“We haven’t really had time to speak about when we should wed, but …
but I will readily confess that I would like nothin’ more than to marry you sooner rather than later. O’ course, we can wait to share a bed—”
Mina pressed a finger to his lips. “Phinn, my darling man, I would love to spend the night with you. I cannot wait for you to show me everything there is to know about lovemaking.”
He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Truly? You’re not just sayin’ that? Because I’m a man and impatient and—”
“Truly,” she said with a smile. “I think from the moment you caught me in your arms aboard the Kinsale Cloud I’ve been wondering what it would be like to be with you …
in that way. Besides”—she looked up at him through her lashes—“I’m dying to learn about the magic you can do with these. ” She waggled her fingers at him.
Leaning into her, Phinn’s lips grazed the shell of her ear. “Wait ’til you see what I can do with me mouth, my darlin’ Mina,” he whispered, his breath a hot caress that sent a shiver of delicious anticipation through her, straight to her lower belly.
His fingers still threaded through hers, Phinn tugged her toward the staircase at the end of the hall, then they were rushing down to the next floor where his rooms lay.
Oh, how breathless she felt and so very light, simply bubbling with so much excitement and expectation and fierce joy, she thought she might burst.
Frobisher had already retired for the night, and Brutus, his belly full of sausages and cake, was fast asleep and snoring on the rug before the sitting room fire.
Which was a relief, to say the least. Mina did not want any interruptions.
Not when Phinn was about to teach her all about physical love, both the giving and the taking.
Mina and Phinn tiptoed past the pug, into the bedroom, and as soon as the door snicked shut, Phinn was kissing her.
His hands were in her hair, stroking down her spine, framing her waist, cupping her bottom through her skirts, everywhere.
His increasingly bold caresses were expertly awakening Mina’s desire, sending ripples of delicious sensation through her entire body.
Making her moan and shiver and want like she’d never wanted before.
She quickly found herself pushed up against the bedroom door’s panels, straddling one of Phinn’s muscular thighs.
As she kissed him back with a matching passion, her eager hands traced over his wide shoulders, broad chest, and the swell of his biceps, wanting to learn the shape of his lean, hard body.
In Mina’s eyes, he was an Adonis. And she wanted him so very badly.
Desire was an insistent pulse between her thighs and she had the shocking urge to rock against Phinn’s leg. To ease the building ache there. And Phinn noticed.
Breaking the kiss, he stared down at her. The corner of his mouth inched into a smile that was pure devilry. “Could-could it be that kisses are not enough for you, lass?”
Mina toyed with Phinn’s black cravat. “I think you can tell that they aren’t.”
Phinn’s eyes gleamed. “Well, what say we remove some of these troublesome clothes”—he ran a finger down the line of buttons at the front of her far too prim and proper uniform—“because they’re only gettin’ in the way of us both findin’ pleasure?”
Mina’s face heated but she wasn’t about to naysay the man she loved.
Not when she wanted fewer layers of fabric between their bodies too.
“I want that more than you could possibly know.” It wasn’t a lie.
She boldly slid her hand beneath Phinn’s waistcoat and reveled in the feel of his ridged torso beneath the skin-warmed cambric.
“In fact, just last night while I touched myself,” she whispered, “just like you asked me to, I was fantasizing about being naked in your arms. Of your bared body covering mine, claiming me. I can’t wait to be joined with you. ”
Phinn closed his eyes and Mina swore she could feel his aroused manhood jerk against her thigh. “Mina,” he groaned, “if … if you keep talkin’ like that, lass, I’m goin’ to come undone even before I unfasten the buttons on your feckin’ gown.”
Heavens. She, Mina Davenport, was really having that much of an effect on this strong-as-Hercules man?
What an undeniably heady thrill. Although she was but a novice when it came to bedsport, it gave Mina the confidence to take things further.
She tugged Phinn’s shirt from the waistband of his trousers, then pushed her hand beneath where her fingertips found taut, hot flesh.
“Well, we’d best strip now, before it’s too late. ”
A growl rumbled in Phinn’s chest, and Mina felt it all the way to her toes.
He began to undo the fastenings of her bodice, but when his fingers slipped, he swore and grumbled about the “feckin’ ridiculous number of cursed wee buttons” he had to deal with.
A second growl of frustration heralded the yanking apart of said bodice—fabric ripped, buttons flew, and a bolt of pure lust, wild and primal and instinctual, arced through Mina, straight to her core.
It wasn’t only Phinn who was becoming undone. She was too.
Gripping Phinn’s head, she kissed him fiercely and then they were stumbling toward the bed.
Her gown was pushed off her shoulders, down her arms, and within moments, it had pooled on the floor along with her petticoats.
Phinn’s waistcoat, cravat, and braces soon followed, joining Mina’s uniform in the pile of discarded clothing.
He toed off his shoes, pulled off his socks, but when he threw off his shirt in one swift movement, Mina paused in her efforts to shed anything else of her own.
Of course, she’d seen Phinn sans shirt on two other occasions, but nothing could compare to being this close to him when he was completely bare from the waist up with no towel or robe to hide any part of him.
She bit her lip as she devoured the sight of this exquisite male specimen …
this man that loved her and she would soon marry.
He was so well-made, so perfect in every way, from his mountainous shoulders to his heavy pectoral muscles with their bronzed nipples, to his washboard of an abdomen (good Lord, she really could count the ridges of muscles there), Mina’s breath caught in her lungs.
And then there were his huge biceps and corded forearms and large hands—hands that would soon be exploring her own body.