Enchanting the Beast, page 16
He stared down at his hand in surprise, then slowly released her fingers.
“Still,” Phil continued, “it was rather high-handed of you to refuse their invitation.”
“Why? Because you want to see Sir Edgar again?”
Oh, botheration about Sir Edgar. Why did Nico seem so interested in him when all Phil wanted to talk about was Jane? And his possible feelings for her? “Why, yes. He seems a pleasant enough sort of fellow. But really, it was Jane whom I felt bad for. She seemed so eager for a bit of society.”
Nico put his finger under her chin and lifted her head, looking into her eyes as if seeking some hidden truth. “You wanted to spend some time with Jane?”
“Yes, of course. She’s so beautiful and charming, don’t you think?”
“I suppose. She’s like a little sister to me.”
“Is that all?” His finger burned her skin. “I mean, have you ever considered…have you ever wondered…”
“What?”
Phil couldn’t stand the suspense. “Are you in love with her?” she blurted.
He blinked in genuine astonishment. “With Jane?”
“Yes, of course, with Jane. She’s in love with you, you know.”
Nico threw back his head and laughed, his aura fading to a dull gray. When he looked down at her again, his eyes fairly sparkled. “Don’t be ridiculous. Jane and I have known each other since we were children.”
“Then you don’t think…I mean, is it possible that Jane might have been jealous of Beatrice? That maybe the villagers really did see a black wolf the night of her death?”
Nico seemed to consider it for half a breath, then shook his head. “It’s not possible. She’s my pack and I’m alpha. She wouldn’t dare defy me.”
Philomena couldn’t be so sure. How could he truly know what the were-wolf might be capable of? Although Phil had to admit that the girl didn’t seem capable of such an act. But love could make people do things they otherwise might not.
“No,” the baronet continued. “It’s some other animal, or another wolf from a different territory. I just have to find a scent strong enough to follow.” He swept the hair away from her face. It had fallen out of her bun some time ago, and she probably looked a fright. “Enough about Beatrice. I want to forget about it for just one day, Phil. I’d like to only think about you.”
“Me?” Botheration, the word came out as a squeak. But when this man turned his attention on her she felt like a mouse trapped by a very large hungry cat. A bit of annoyance gave her some armor. “You’ve barely spoken two words to me all week and today you suddenly show up at my door and—”
“So you missed me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
His eyes softened. “You didn’t have to. And we need to talk, but not here. Come, I want to take you somewhere special.” He captured her hand in his and began to tow her toward the massive weeping willow trees. For a moment Phil considered refusing him. But he was right; they needed to talk. She had to tell him that they must end this affair before anyone got hurt. And she felt dreadfully curious about what he had to say.
He parted the yellowish-green branches as if he swept aside draperies, and Phil stepped beneath that canopy. It felt as though she entered into another world. Tiny pricks of light sparkled from each branch, like a waterfall of green stars surrounding her. Without that light she would have been plunged into complete darkness even if the sun had been shining outside. The layers of branches were that dense. She took another step. Some type of moss covered the ground so thickly that it felt as if she walked on cushions. Bouncy cushions.
“Is this real or an illusion?”
Nico let the drape of branches fall together behind him. “It’s real, although magic created it. The willow-nymphs infuse their trees with a phosphorescence that glows.” He held out one of the branches and Phil peered at it. Tiny green globes grew along the length of it.
“Why, they’re like miniature fairylights,” she breathed.
Nico dropped the branch. “Only there isn’t any fairy dust inside.” He shoved at the moss beneath his feet. “And there isn’t any feather stuffing in here either, even though it feels like it.”
“It’s bouncier than feathers.”
He smiled at her, the greenish light casting his features into an unearthly glow. “I knew you’d like it, Phil. I haven’t shared this place with anyone else before, yet somehow I knew I had to share it with you.”
She could drown in his eyes. Philomena could gaze at him for years and always find something new within his face to explore and enjoy. She might have made a mistake in coming with him today.
Nico strode to the other side of the tree, his footsteps lighter than usual, and parted another curtain of branches. Phil thought she heard Tup call out to her and barely listened to Nico’s next words.
“The willow-nymphs know I’m immune to their magic, so they don’t meddle with me. But they can…Phil?”
She spun, looking for the source of Tup’s voice. The note of fear in it made her heart thunder. What would her ghostly lad be doing beneath the willows? Why would he follow her today? When the branches on her right parted of their own volition and Tup cried out again, she didn’t hesitate. Phil stepped through to emerge beneath another willow’s canopy.
“Philomena, wait,” said Nico, but the branches snapped closed behind her, cutting off his voice. She could still clearly hear Tup calling for her while the branches continued to part open a path from tree to tree. She wondered how many willows grew in this grove. Surely enough to create a confusing maze of passageways.
Phil could dimly hear Nico trying to follow her, the sounds of his muffled curses and the breaking of limbs. But she couldn’t slow down to wait for him when Tup sounded like he needed her.
She plunged through another tree’s canopy and could only stop and stare in sheer astonishment.
Tup stood next to the trunk of the willow and his form didn’t waver or appear insubstantial. “Hullo, Phil.”
“Tup? What’s happening? You look so…alive.”
He blinked his large round eyes at her, that saucy grin of his appearing on his dirty face. “I am alive. At least, in here I am.”
Phil took a dazed step forward, and then another, until her bouncing steps closed the distance between them. “How?” she breathed, reaching out to touch his wild hair. The strands tickled the palms of her hand.
“Stay with me,” Tup said. “And I can be your real boy forever.”
She fell to her knees and held out her arms. How many times had she wished to hug him? To hold him close and let her feel how very much she loved him?
Tup stepped into the circle of her arms and Phil bit back a sob. He felt so skinny, his arms and ribs nothing but bones. But now she could put some meat on him and he would never go hungry again. And she would teach him to read and buy him toys to fire his imagination. She would help him grow into a strong man and he would make her so proud.
Phil smiled into his messy hair. How very warm and alive he felt! She crushed him to her, pressing kisses on his dirty cheeks. She could stay like this forever.
“Phil,” Nico gasped, crashing through the fall of branches.
“Look,” she said, “it’s Tup. He’s come to life for me.”
“Damnation,” the baronet muttered. “Fiona, stop this right now. Phil is my guest and what you’re doing is cruel.”
For a moment the glamour stayed with Philomena. She had no idea what Nico was talking about.
“Listen, Phil,” he said, and she felt the warmth of his hand on her shoulder. “The willow-nymphs don’t like intruders and Fiona delights at treating them to her illusions. She’s been known to trap people here until they starve to death, spinning a weave of their heart’s desire.”
“Oh, Nico, you’re wrong. See, feel him. He’s real.”
“I can only see a vague outline of his form because illusions don’t work on me. I’m so sorry. I never thought Fiona would try to enchant you while I was here.” He waited a moment, then growled loudly enough to shake the branches surrounding them. “I’m warning you, Fiona.”
A tiny squeak of alarm came from the leaves above them. Phil glanced up and saw a little green face with enormous emerald eyes and a pointed chin.
The warm bundle in her arms began to fade. “No,” Phil cried. “Nico, don’t take him away.” But the lad disappeared and her arms lay empty. Like they had been all of her life. Tears sprang into her eyes and she leapt to her feet and spun. “Damn you. Bring him back.”
“I can’t, Phil. He was never really here.”
She slapped him. He took the blow across his face without moving an inch. “I should have warned you sooner,” he said.
Phil wished he’d gotten angry, or stopped her from hitting him, because his stoic acceptance only made her want to weep. “He felt so alive.”
“I know.”
Phil forced herself to accept reality. “He was nothing but an illusion?”
“A wish from your heart, nothing more.”
Nico’s lovely eyes looked so sad for her, as if he understood her pain. Phil fell into his arms; only her strength of will prevented her from sobbing into his linen shirt. She could only feel profound relief that Nico was real. That the warmth she felt from his body truly existed in her world.
“Come along, now,” he murmured, leading her away from Fiona’s tree. Perhaps Nico had frightened the nymphs because the rest of the branches parted before them without any assistance from him. By the time they emerged from the thirteenth tree, Phil had her heart in hand again. She pulled away from Nico and he cocked a brow at her, but didn’t protest.
Phil stepped out of the canopy into a glade that made her stop and stare. “How much of this is illusion?”
“Does it matter?” he replied.
Perhaps to Nico, who might only see it as a vague outline, but to Phil… “Not a whit.”
A pool of clear water sat in the middle of the glade, fed by several springs that appeared to flow from the top of an enormous crystal boulder that jutted out over the surface of the pond. White falls of water hid the cavern beneath the boulder and Phil imagined that the crystal surface would fairly sparkle in the sunshine.
The overcast day only appeared to make it glow.
Not that she could see much of the sky. Gorchids grew to enormous proportions all around the edges of the pool, their stems so heavily laden with blooms that she could barely see the green of their leaves. Pale lavender flowers with ruffled edges vied with star-shaped sepals enclosing frilly white petals. Clusters of deeply pink flowers with burgundy insides grew next to vibrantly blue-spotted petals with tiger-striped tops. Phil took a few steps out onto the mossy bank and breathed deeply. The combined perfumes made her feel almost drunk with delight.
A gust of wind curled through the glade and the flowers danced, the sound of their petals rubbing together like a delicate symphony. Phil had never heard the like. Some loose petals floated into the pond, creating a soft carpet of color on the rippling surface.
She reached down and trailed her fingers in the crystal water. It felt surprisingly warm. Phil crouched and scooped up the liquid and bathed her face, removing the last vestiges of sorrow from her encounter with an illusory Tup. She sat back on the spongy moss and closed her eyes, allowing the peace of the glade to soothe her.
“What an enchanting place,” she murmured.
“I knew you’d like it,” Nico said. “Come on, let’s go for a swim. It was hot beneath the willows.”
Phil glanced over her shoulder and gaped. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”
Nico’s chest was bare, all that golden brown skin gleaming even in the cloudy daylight. His boots and shirt already lay on the carpet of moss and he’d started to undo the buttons of his trousers. “I always swim in just my skin. Don’t you?”
“Certainly not.”
“Ah, then you’re in for a treat, ghost-hunter.” His trousers puddled around his ankles and he kicked them away. His drawers followed a scant second later. He was so incredibly beautiful. It was one thing to see glimpses of him by candlelight and quite another to see the entire length of him bared in the outdoors.
She felt incredibly wicked.
Nico didn’t appear to be the least bit self-conscious. “Come on, Phil. The water is always warm here.” He strode past her and she couldn’t take her eyes off him, despite the flush that rose to her cheeks. Every muscle in his body rippled beneath that smooth skin, outlining his thighs and calves and…
Well, she hadn’t known how large the muscles were in a man’s buttocks.
He waded waist-deep into the water and turned to her. “How can you be so shy after what’s already happened between us?”
“I…I thought you wanted to talk.”
Nico flashed that wolfish grin. “I do. After we go swimming.”
Phil sighed. He seemed so young and impulsive. So enormously appealing.
“I assure you that we’re quite alone, so there’s no reason to be afraid.”
“I am not afraid.” Oh, botheration, she certainly was. But not for the reasons he might be thinking.
Sir Nicodemus took two menacing steps toward her, the water swirling around his waist. “You’re coming in, with your clothes on or off. I imagine soggy skirts will make for one uncomfortable trip back to the castle, though.”
Phil narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He splashed water at her. “Try me. Come on, you know you’re dying to find out what it feels like to swim without so much as a stitch on.”
How had he come to know her so well? Because truly, the curiosity to find out what it felt like nearly overwhelmed her. She felt sure the confines of a bath couldn’t quite compare, and the swim gear that women were required to wear was bulky and uncomfortable, with as much material as their regular clothing.
Phil glanced around. If there were nymphs in the trees, they stayed hidden beneath their canopies. Nico was right; this place was entirely secluded. She doubted anyone could get through that growth of willows unless the nymphs let them.
She stepped out of her slippers, slipped off her stockings, and buried her toes in the moss. It felt cool and moist. Her medieval style gown laced down the front, with a silk sheath beneath that peeked out from her sleeves and at her throat. It took her but a moment to undo the laces and step out of it, but she hesitated at removing the sheath. She only wore a thin chemise beneath it and in this light it would reveal entirely too much of her. She settled for removing her pantalets, then glanced up at Nico beneath her lashes.
His dark brown eyes had glazed with emotion and his features had an intensity to them that made her catch her breath.
“This feels entirely too brazen,” Phil said.
Nico gave her a lopsided grin and spun to face the opposite direction. “Does this help?”
He had a beautiful back, a straight spine and curves of muscles by his shoulders. The clear water revealed entirely too much of him to her view. She could clearly see the smooth rounds of his bottom.
Phil stared in disbelief at her sheath and chemise now bundled in her hands. She’d taken them off without even consciously thinking about it. The wind curled between her thighs, tickling the tiny hairs on her legs and arms. She had never, ever been naked outdoors before. It felt quite liberating. And made her feel terribly brave.
She tossed her clothing on the ground. She no longer had the willowy figure of her youth. She was rounded and full, and in the light of day Nico would see her every fault. Perhaps then he would understand that a younger woman had much more to offer. Phil lifted her chin. “You may turn around now.”
Thunder accompanied her words, as if the rising storm echoed her fears.
Nico spun and a slow smile of appreciation curled his lips. “My God, you’re stunning, aren’t you? Come here.”
The man was daft. Phil waded into the pond, the cool water swirling around her skin and caressing her in the most intimate places. Nico didn’t wait for her to come to him. He strode forward and grasped her around the waist, hauling her into deeper water.
The sky rumbled again.
“Hold your breath,” he commanded, and then pulled them both under the surface. She kept her eyes open, the water so clear she could see every strand of hair that floated around his face. The glow of his brown eyes. He caught her own wayward locks in a fist and brought her lips toward his. Oh, my. The contrast of the cool water and his hot mouth, the weightlessness of their bodies as they clung to each other, the sheer exuberance of kissing this man, made her heart soar and her entire body come alive.
Phil regretted having to come up for air. She swept the water back from her forehead and smiled at Nico. He slicked back his wild locks and for a change they stayed in place. His wet eyelashes stuck together, making his eyes look larger, the tiny glints of gold in them more pronounced. Drops of water trickled down his handsome face and Phil leaned toward him, licking the droplets from his lips.
He growled lazily and swam closer to shore, his eyes never leaving hers. Phil followed as if some invisible string attached her to him. He stood on the gravelly bottom of the pool, just his head and shoulders above the water, and greedily reached for her. “Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded.
Phil put her hands on his shoulders and lifted her legs, the water making her movements languid and the weightlessness making it easy to lift herself up to him. Her ankles met behind his back.
“Tighter,” he murmured, his lips feathering the lobe of her ear.
Phil shivered and squeezed. The action brought her most intimate place against his and she became acutely aware of his desire. He gave a low moan and lifted her bottom until her breasts were above the water, dipping his head to lick the beads that clung to her nipples.
