Chapter 88
ONE LAST TONGUE-TWISTER, PRIORITIZING ANOTHER COMPULSION, AND NO INCONVENIENCE AT ALL
When the apprentice and the baby dragon arrived on the western balcony, they were immediately greeted with cheers and applause.
Everyone spoke at once, wondering when Bradley had lifted his curse and how he could perform such magic without a sorcerer staff and the true Dirk was a sight for sore eyes and didn’t we all do a fabulous job defending this tower?
It was agreed upon that a party should be planned and thrown that very evening, and since it was only noon, they had plenty of time to bring this event into being.
Chattering like songbirds, Sir Roger, Pocket, Fink, Duncan, Prince Henri, and Dirk all bustled out of the workroom, leaving Millie and Bradley alone in the workroom, staring at each other and suddenly shy.
A second portal appeared presently with another gentle whoosh of air and a dazzling sparkle of light.
Ignoring it once again, the apprentice took the princess pirate by the hand and led her to the balcony on the opposite side of the workroom where they could overlook the deep desert.
The patio furniture they had set up all those months ago for his speech therapy lessons was still there.
Millie stepped out onto the balcony and swept a hand over the table, brushing the grains of sand through the decorative motif and onto the floor. The desert wind played in her unbound hair. She half-turned to view him, shrouded in shade and leaning against the archway, watching her.
“You did it,” she said softly. “Nothing Olabeus taught me about magic can explain it, but you did it, Bradley. You saved Dirk. You saved us.”
“I couldn’t have done any of it without you.
” He pushed off the wall and approached, the sunlight turning his black hair shiny like obsidian.
His gaze was as gentle as the fingertips sweeping the auburn locks behind her ear.
As tender as the palm that then cupped her cheek.
“Gorgeous girl gives glorious gifts, gradually gaining goodwill from gibbering gits.”
Her cheeks reddened, but she refused to lower her gaze demurely as Miss Violeta would have insisted. A pirate was bold. “That’s a good tongue-twister.”
“Here’s another.” He leaned in close, lips grazing against her ear. “Bound by breath and being, I belong beside you.”
Her pulse skipped like butterflies across a meadow. “Bradley—”
“Millie, I love you.”
She jerked to the side, creating space where she could search his face. She had waited so long to hear it that she wasn’t sure this wasn’t a dream. There was only sincerity in his expression, truth in the softness of his eyes.
“You must be very brave,” she whispered. “I’ve been told I’m a bit of a hellion.”
His lips quirked, but he remained serious. Steadfast. “I stand by that assessment. But you could be my hellion, if . . .”
She shook her head. “No if. I am.” Her hands, flat against the homespun against his chest, clenched. Claimed. “I love you, too, Bradley Donmarin.” When he only grinned, she wet her lips expectantly. “You can kiss me now.”
“I know that.”
His hands moved from her waist to frame her face, brushed her cheekbones with his thumbs.
His gaze swept over her features, as if finding them new and extraordinary, from the dark sweep of her lashes to the freckles cast about her cheeks like stars.
Then he dipped his head and kissed her with such aching softness, Millie thought her heart would burst.
He wasn’t timid, and while his kisses were firm, they weren’t forceful.
There was room for her to love him back as she desired.
The velvety graze of lips against hers encouraged it.
Here, wrapped in his arms, there were no societal pressures.
No propriety like a governess looming nearby to smack them with her fan and pull them apart.
She could just be herself—wild and brave and unfettered—and he would never snuff her out. Never hold her back. A true partner.
Her harbor.
At last, she thought.
Elated, she rocked up on tiptoe and returned his kiss with an intensity that released a growl from deep in his chest. Suddenly he pulled back, but it was only so he could tear off his spectacles, toss them onto the table behind them, and kiss her with the fierceness of a lightning strike.
That hand against her cheek shot into her hair, tangled, and tilted her head back for a thorough demonstration of his affection.
She nearly melted like whipped cream into a cup of hot chocolate right then and there, but she clung to every sensation sparked into existence from his touch.
Millie shivered as his lips trailed down her neck, gasped when his teeth nipped, moaned when his mouth sucked hard on that tender spot just below her jaw.
“I say,” she said, breathless, “where has this Bradley been hiding?”
“He’s been very, very repressed.”
Hidden. Afraid to trust someone like her. He’d been convinced there was no nobility to be found amongst the ruling class, just self-centered greed.
Millie had proven him so, so wrong.
In her love, he was safe. He wasn’t a freak, wasn’t worthless. He was safe to be vulnerable, to rely on her support whether in celebration or failure. She was a rock, unwavering and true. He could dare again. Discover. He would never stop being grateful. He was hers, always.
Millie guided his mouth back to hers, and when their lips met, she did something utterly devilish with her tongue that sent a shudder straight to his toes. Bradley pulled back, his eyes dark as shady forest pools. “Not here,” he rasped.
He made to take her hand, but she backed up a step.
“One moment.” She fished around in her reticule and withdrew a small yellow gem strung on a fine gold chain. She quickly fastened it around her neck and shook her hair behind her shoulders. “Ready.”
“What?” was all he could think to say.
“Oh! It’s a contraceptive charm—standard issue for princesses. Can’t be whelping anything but a legitimate heir, you know.” She lifted her eyebrows expectantly. “You are planning to ravish me senseless and ruin me for all other men, aren’t you?”
“Quit telling me my business, Tula,” he growled, though a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re so bossy.”
“You mispronounced ‘eager.’”
She yelped when he swatted her backside, but it quickly turned into a giggle. Bradley snorted a laugh, took her hand, and raced back into the workroom.
The two stole kisses all the way down the stairwell, dancing around the hermit crabs and their glowing shells, sneaking past their friends planning the party in the kitchen, and came to a halt on the landing outside Bradley’s suite.
He pushed open his bedroom door, encouraged her with a little tug. “Come in. Please.”
Millie’s heart swelled. The grumpy sorcerer apprentice, Mr. Prim, Proper, Pole Up His Ass, was inviting her into his space. Welcoming her.
Grinning, she followed him inside.
What happened after the door locked behind them was a lot of laughter, many curses concerning corset strings, a good deal of fumbling, one shiv hairpin falling loose and skewering the rug inches from Bradley’s bare toes, but finally the two were stripped down to naught but their knickers. Which just so happened to match.
When Millie bent down to gather her clothes and hurry them off to the hamper, Bradley scooped her into his arms.
“But you hate it when I leave my clothes scattered about!”
“And I love it that you remembered. Leave it.”
“Mr. Donmarin,” she said, scandalized, “what would your obsessive compulsive disorder have to say about that?”
“It’s already lodged a formal complaint.”
She giggled. “And you’re just going to ignore it?”
“I’m prioritizing another compulsion at the moment.” He carried her to the bed and pressed her back against the quilt, crushing his mouth against hers.
Before he could kiss her again, Millie hooked his arm, twisted, and rolled him onto his back in one fluid movement.
“Is this how it’s going to be between us, then?” Bradley sighed from his position beneath her, his hands trapped by hers above his head.
Her eyes danced as they tracked over his unruly black curls and the broad expanse of his chest stretched out underneath her. He was gorgeous and hers. “Frequently. And—” She cut herself off, a wicked smile curving her full lips.
His teasing expression narrowed with suspicion. “What?”
“I just realized, Mr. Donmarin, that I have finally passed the last course in my pirate studies. Seduction 101. You, sir, are out of your cufflinks and clothes.”
“This is very true, though I wasn’t wearing any cufflinks.” He cocked his head to the side against the pillow. “Do you think your performance has earned you a Satisfactory or Exemplary grade?”
“Exemplary, of course, but I wouldn’t want there to be any doubt.”
“Doubt would be bad.”
“So, if it’s no inconvenience to you, Mr. Donmarin, would you assist me in ensuring my grade is truly and unquestionably accurate for the records?”
He sat up easily and slipped a hand into her hair. His lips were sweet and teasing against hers. “It’s no inconvenience at all.”
And so the princess pirate and the sorcerer apprentice continued their coursework throughout the entire afternoon.
Once they were thoroughly blissed and utterly sated—and Millie had indeed earned her Exemplary grade—they retired to the far less vigorous activity of cuddling.
With her head on his chest and her hair in glorious disarray, Millie watched the sun set over the desert as Bradley’s thumb traced familiar circles upon her shoulder.
The orange dunes darkened to brown, then purple, and the ever-present wind swept the land clean of the battle that had once raged there, renewing it in preparation of their last day at the tower.
As if sensing their thoughts, a portal began to form on the opposite side of the bedroom.
“No,” they both shouted, and the portal winked out of sight with an apologetic whoosh.
“There will be no denying it tomorrow,” Millie grumped.
She squeaked when Bradley rolled on top of her. “That’s tomorrow’s adventure,” he said, kissing down her neck. “This is today’s.”
“Bradley,” she laughed, squirming and pushing at his shoulders, “if you keep doing that, we’re going to be late for Dirk’s party. And I still have to make teacakes!”
“Wasn’t it you who said princesses are trained to arrive fashionably late for every engagement?”
“Wasn’t it you who said that was incredibly rude?”
“It is.” He gave the end of her nose a playful nip and then disappeared under the sheets. “So quit fussing and let me do that thing you like with my tongue and then we’ll be off.”