Chapter 16
Administering the elixir to the rest of the flight of teacup dragons was a far more careful affair, much to Noah’s obvious relief.
Portia used a pipette to measure out the tiniest doses, one at a time, taking into account the dragon’s weight and build, a process which he and Iris supervised silently.
Portia didn’t mention what had happened in her workroom and neither did he, but she was aware of August watching them both with a speculative gaze.
Portia struggled to school her face to innocence.
Nonetheless, she couldn’t stop herself stealing glances at the vet, and every time she did a warm flush coloured his cheeks.
The Universal Restorative elixir worked even more effectively than they could have hoped.
The magical connections all the tiny dragons had with the world around them slid back into place, and were stronger than ever.
Seb had slowly lowered the protective magic he’d tried to weave around the room as the threat to the dragons faded and they regained their own abilities.
‘It’s remarkable,’ her younger brother said, gazing up at the flight.
Portia herself was still on a high with her success.
She couldn’t help it. ‘It’s groundbreaking.
Wait until the Academy hears about this.
They’re going to have to eat their words now, every last one of them.
It’s exactly what Milo and I have been arguing for months.
Now I have proof and a repeatable process. You wait, this will change everything.’
She’d be able to go back to the Academy. They would have to take her back now.
‘I wouldn’t bet on that,’ Seb told her solemnly. ‘Once they’ve made their minds up about something they don’t tend to change it. Be careful what you put in writing, Portia. I know you trust Milo but—’
She rounded on him.
‘Why wouldn’t I trust Milo?’
‘I just mean… Academy politics do tend to get in the way. And there are secrets in that book—’
‘I know,’ she said, delighted with the thought of it.
So many secrets. Who knew what Uncle Art had squirreled away in there?
It was a treasure trove. ‘We can use it, Seb. Think of the breakthroughs we can make. Art was a genius. With that book we can change the whole face of thaumaturgical studies, not to mention the study of—’
‘No.’
Just that one word. Seb’s gentle and easy-going nature seemed to have fled in an instant.
‘What do you mean, no?’
‘We are not giving them the book.’
‘We’re not giving it to them, silly.’ Portia laughed softly. ‘But the work in it is incredible. The range of his interests and the things he – Seb, you can’t refuse to share—’
If anything, Seb’s expression hardened. Portia stared, taken aback.
‘I can and I do. The Academy has no right to Art’s work.
None of us do. The dragons are better now.
I’ll be taking the book back to the emporium.
And I’m not a child, Portia. There are things in there that shouldn’t be meddled with.
Not even by you.’ He walked out of the snuggery and Portia stood there, mouth open in shock for a long moment before running after him.
‘But Seb,’ she protested. ‘That’s not fair. There’s so much we can learn from it.’
Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Within half an hour her brother had collected the book and retreated to his shop.
* * *
As evening fell, and life in the castle settled back into its usual routines, Portia finished making all her notes and sent everything she could to Milo.
Ensuring the samples would be safe in flight meant a long discussion with Harry and Alyss, but she was confident that all would be well.
Her notes had taken the rest of the next day to write up.
And all the while the work of caring for the teacup dragons never ceased.
Noah was cautious around her, watching her as much as his charges.
As if he expected her to jump on him again.
Everyone else had gone home. August was needed at his inn and Seb had yet to return from the emporium.
Ophelia had a backlog of work at the library and Iris had taken herself to bed early.
Portia had tried to do the same, getting changed into her nightdress and brushing out her long hair, but she couldn’t sleep.
She kept playing through the events in the cave.
She knew something had happened, that something had changed.
She’d felt the touch of the magic that threaded its way through the island.
Noah had told her family that he’d seen nothing. She didn’t know why and a moment to ask him had never presented itself. But she couldn’t ignore her own memories. It hadn’t been a dream.
It wasn’t the only thing haunting her thoughts. There was also the matter of that kiss. That infuriating, distracting kiss. That had definitely not been a dream either. And she couldn’t get it out of her head. And Noah… He was not that easy to corner.
Deciding that it was better to make some practical use of her time, she went to the parlour, hoping to find something to read among Iris’s collection of books. Instead, she found Noah, sitting in front of a dwindling fire, a book in his hand.
He looked up startled as she entered the room.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her manners coming to her rescue. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you. Are you busy?’
It was entirely obvious that he wasn’t. Clearly he too had found sleep impossible. He surged to his feet. Always the gentleman.
‘I was… um, I was studying.’
‘What is it?’ She peered at the book.
He turned to the first page to show her.
‘A book on dragon physiology, an incredibly rare volume that I’d heard of but never had a chance to lay my hands on before.
It’s from Elanholm.’ He brushed a finger over a circular symbol beneath the title as lovingly as he had touched her.
‘That’s the royal imprint. A treasure. I found it on the table in the corner.
’ He sounded bemused at the idea that it would just be left lying around.
When he closed the book he ran his fingers over the spine as if it was a teacup dragon and might purr at him.
‘You’ve been avoiding me.’
That little flush beneath the skin at his open collar told her that he was guilty as charged, but of course he wasn’t about to tell her that. ‘Not at all. What do you need? Is all well with Jade?’
Jade was curled up asleep in the shawl in Portia’s room. She had opened one eye as Portia left, but hadn’t stirred. ‘Yes, she’s fine. Asleep.’
‘Did you hear back from Milo?’
‘Yes. He’s very excited and he’s applying the methodology I suggested to our previous work.
He has high hopes.’ His letter had been a scrawl of excitement.
This approach was groundbreaking and they both knew it.
But right now… right now she needed to talk to Noah while she had him to herself.
‘I wanted to ask you about the cave. About what happened down there. There wasn’t time earlier.
When I woke up, they said you brought me back here but that you hadn’t seen anything down there? ’
He put the book down on the side table and looked at her like he’d been dreading this.
‘That’s what happened.’ He looked entirely sincere.
‘But the light, Noah, the threads…’ Her voice trailed off when he shook his head.
‘You ran into the back of the cave while I was securing the flowers. When I found you, you were on the ground, unconscious. I’m sorry, Portia. I didn’t see anything.’
She pursed her lips together, her mood deflating. She couldn’t have imagined it, could she? Portia prided herself on being entirely rational. This made no sense at all. The magic of Starling Island was a myth, and before this she would have sworn to it herself.
But it had felt so real.
‘Are you all right?’ Noah said, his voice wary.
‘Yes. Sorry. I’m just… I was sure…’ She closed her eyes, embarrassed by the admission. She’d wanted it to be real, that was all. And the thought that all she had done was run into a wall and knock herself out was… well, humiliating.
‘But if it was magic,’ he went on, ‘I wouldn’t have been able to see anything anyway. Would I?’
It was a peace offering of sorts, she supposed. He wasn’t telling her she imagined it or that she hadn’t seen anything. Just that he couldn’t, even if he wanted to.
An awkward silence hung between them. He moved quietly towards her and when she looked up, he was right in front of her, his skin lit up by the fire. He was wearing a loose shirt. It wasn’t even tucked in. It shouldn’t have been so distracting.
‘I wanted to talk to you as well,’ he murmured, that rumble of his voice doing strange things in her stomach. ‘About… about what happened when… about the kiss.’
The kiss had been spectacular. More than spectacular.
Was he going to apologise for that as well?
She started to shake her head but Noah reached out, his fingers brushing along the line of her jaw, stilling her.
He swallowed hard, the movement in his throat capturing her full attention.
When she looked up to meet his gaze again, his eyes had darkened to the blue of a stormy sky.
She was suddenly keenly aware of the heat of his body, the width of his chest and shoulders, and the tenderness of his touch.
He had a scent like cedar and cinnamon. Her body swayed towards him, beyond her control.
She ought to be flippant, dismissive. Play it cool and put things back on an even keel again. Oh, that kiss, think nothing of it. Or, What kiss could you possibly mean?
But right now she couldn’t find the words. Nor the inclination.
‘Noah,’ she whispered, his name a plea on her lips. Everything she had meant to talk to him about suddenly fled from her mind. All she could think of was him, his body, the look in his eyes. It was mesmerising.
‘I’m not sorry,’ he told her, and smiled as a laugh escaped her.
Trust him to surprise her. ‘Not in the slightest. I regret nothing. You’re brilliant and beautiful, a wonder, and I…
I know it wasn’t the time. We had work to do.
It was all so rushed. But I’d like to revisit it, if you don’t mind… and maybe more?’
‘Are you asking my permission?’
‘Yes, Portia.’ A smile pulled at the corners of that luscious mouth. She knew what that mouth was capable of now and suddenly all she wanted was to explore what else they could get up to, that elusive more. He leaned towards her, his lips almost meeting hers, but not quite, not yet. ‘If I may?’
It felt like she was in a dream, like the magic of the caves wrapped itself around her again, that music reverberating through her. Her heart hammered so hard against the inside of her ribs she thought he must be able to hear it as clearly as she could. ‘You may,’ she whispered.
He kissed her and Portia found herself lost in him, her hands exploring his chest, pushing back the material of his shirt so she could touch the skin beneath.
When they had kissed before, it had been rushed and passionate, something which swept her up and carried her away.
But now, Noah took his time. It was a revelation, the way his mouth explored hers, the way those confident hands brushed against her body.
For a man she had believed determined to say sorry for everything, he was unapologetically taking her at her word this time.
He cupped her breasts through the fabric of her nightgown, his thumb brushing her nipples in a glorious friction that was all set to rob her of her sanity until he dipped his head and his mouth finished the job.
Somehow she ended up on the sofa and Noah sank to his knees before her, his hands pushing up the fabric and parting her thighs. She tangled her fingers in his hair and guided him to her, and then all she could do was cry out his name until everything shattered in waves of pleasure.
He looked up, with an expression that could only be described as boyishly smug. Portia laughed breathlessly and reached for him again, pulling him up to her.
It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
It was like magic itself, like the music and the light, those endless waves of power, but this time there was only herself and Noah.
She pushed his shirt away, and he helped her shed her nightgown.
She lay back, watching him slip out of the rest of his clothes and then he cupped her face in his hands, kissing her again, their mouths moving together as their bodies entwined.
She rocked against him, and he chuckled into the skin of her collarbone.
‘Do you have any idea what you do to me, Portia Starling? I had a million plans and none of them involved this…’
‘What about this?’ she asked, and shifted so that she could take him as deep inside her as possible. It was a moment of triumph, if she had to say it herself.
His breath turned short and desperate and he pushed himself up so he could look at her, letting her see the wonder that filled him.
His arms trembled with the effort of holding on, of waiting for her to join him tumbling over the edge.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, and guided his mouth to hers again, drinking down that perfect shared moment of release.