Fairytale Come Alive (51 page)

Elle slowed their gait so she could hear Prentice reply, “I know, mate.”

“So why?” Jason asked.

“She’s a woman,” Prentice sighed.

“Seriously,” Jason said, “totally mental.”

Elle giggled as she entered her rooms, Sally’s hand in hers and she led Sally to the bathroom so she could do a touch up.

* * * * *

Dinner ran long, mainly because Prentice felt the need (and acted on that need) to tell everyone they encountered that Elle was moving, permanently, to the village.

And at this news, everyone they encountered behaved like it was Christmas
and
their birthday all rolled into one and they all decided to sit down and chat for awhile and some of them sat down and chatted for a
long
while.

By the time they got home, it was well past Sally’s bedtime and the little girl was drooping. Elle didn’t even take off her shoes before she saw to getting Sally to bed.

Sally was so tired she didn’t want to be read a book. After Elle got her to brush her teeth and change into her nightgown, Sally just curled up with a somehow equally exhausted Blackie in her arms (though, Elle figured Blackie’s exhaustion had something to do with the decimated toilet roll in Jason and Sally’s bathroom) and snuggled into her pillows while Elle tucked her in.

“Elle?” Sally whispered after Elle turned out the bedside lamp, leaving only the glow of the nightlight.

Elle sat down on the bed and pulled Sally’s heavy hair away from her neck, answering, “Yes, honey.”

“Will you teach me to make chocolate cake?” Sally asked.

Elle’s breath caught in her throat.

There were women who wanted to own seven hundred dollar shoes.

And there were women who wanted to run nations.

At that moment, there was nothing more that Elle wanted in the world than to teach Sally how to make chocolate cake.

Somehow, Elle managed to reply, “Sure, Sally.”

“And how to walk in high heels?” Sally went on.

Her throat threatening to close, Elle forced out, “Of course.”

“Hurrah,” Sally cheered sleepily.

Elle leaned down and kissed the girl’s temple before she got up and made her way to the door, thinking that Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty got it wrong. They should have bypassed the handsome prince and went direct to the broody-hot architect who designed the castle and also happened to have two beautiful children.

“Elle?” Sally called when Elle hit the door to her bedroom.

Elle turned to face the room. “Yes, Sally.”

“Thank you for making Jace happy again,” Sally whispered and Elle felt her breath escape in a rush as her heart stopped beating.

She didn’t answer, couldn’t, she could only hold on to the doorframe and hope she didn’t pass out.

“And Daddy too,” Sally went on quietly.

Elle’s heart squeezed.

Maybe Sally Cameron didn’t slide through life shielded by her indefatigable good cheer.

Maybe Sally Cameron felt just as deeply as her father and her brother but, in her six year old’s way, she did what she could to take care of her family.

Summoning a strength she didn’t know she had, Elle pushed away from the door, walked to Sally’s bed and again sat on its side, sliding her fingers through Sally’s hair.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetie,” Elle whispered.

“Yes, I do,” Sally whispered back.

Elle leaned forward and got close to Sally’s ear. “No you don’t, Sally, because we’re even. I was sad when I came here. So very sad. But you and Jason and your Daddy made me happy too”

“I’m glad,” Sally replied softly.

“So, I should thank you,” Elle told her.

Sally twisted her neck, Elle’s head came up and Sally grinned at her before saying, “You’re welcome.”

Elle stifled a giggle and grinned back.

“Now, go to sleep,” Elle ordered.

“Okay, Elly Belly,” Sally said cheekily through her grin.

With a light kiss on Sally’s smooth cheek, Elle left the girl and wandered to Prentice’s rooms in a daze, Sally’s words and what they meant tumbling through her mind. She didn’t know it but she entered the bedroom with a small smile playing at her lips.

Prentice was taking off his shirt but his hands stilled when his eyes came to her.

“Sally’s in bed,” Elle announced, not noticing Prentice’s posture, she walked to the bed, sat on the side and pulled up her pant leg to get to her shoe. “Jason too?” she asked.

“Aye,” Prentice answered and Elle’s head came up in surprise for he was closer than she expected him to be.

In fact, he was standing, now shirtless, right in front of her.

Her hands still on the strap of her shoe, Prentice got closer.

“Is something –” Elle started.

“Don’t take off your shoes.”

Elle blinked and sat up straight. “What?”

Prentice didn’t answer. His hands went under her armpits and he lifted her to her feet. He turned so his back was to the bed, she was facing him and, before she knew what he was about, he’d swept the turtleneck clean off her body.

She watched him throw it across the room before her eyes came back to him and she began, “Pren –”

But she didn’t say more because her trousers were sliding over her hips.

Her hands went to his wrists but he ignored them, grasped her at the waist, lifted her free of the trousers that had pooled at her feet and he kicked them aside.

Then she stared, dumbfounded, as he sat on the side of the bed and, hands at her hips, pulled her between his opened legs.

She was trying to come to terms with standing, wearing nothing but her bra, panties and saucy shoes in front of a seated Prentice, his hands sliding to her waist then back and down, to cup her bottom, his eyes roaming her body, a body that seemed to heat under his gaze.

“Got a call from Dougal today,” he announced bizarrely before he leaned forward and ran his tongue along the top edge of her panties.

“Yes?” she breathed, forgetting her near nudity and Prentice’s strange announcement as her mind focused with pinpoint accuracy on what his tongue was doing.

“Aye,” Prentice said softly against the skin of her belly, one of his hands stayed cupped at her behind, the other one slid forward, the tips of his fingers trailing the lower edge of her panties, around and in and her breath caught as Prentice went on, “He asked me for pointers.”

“Pointers?” Elle parroted, losing concentration on what he was saying as her mind preferred to focus on the heat that was building
everywhere
.

“Aye, Elle,” Prentice whispered against her then he rubbed the stubble of his chin on her skin, his head tilted back to look at her. “He wanted pointers on how to fuck Annie against a wall.”

Elle’s body froze but her eyes went wide and her stomach plummeted.

“Oh my God,” she breathed.

“Apparently, Annie told him, because you told her
and
Mikey, that I had a particular talent in that area.”

“Oh my God,” Elle breathed again.

Visions of Prentice throwing her out of his beautiful home because she had
such
a big mouth filled her head but visions of Prentice’s devilish grin filled her eyes as his strong hands suddenly yanked her forward so she was straddling his lap.

His arms went around her, one tight at her waist, the other hand sliding up and fisting in her hair.

Elle put both hands to his neck and tried to remember how to breathe.

When she accomplished this feat, she whispered, “I’m sorry. So, so sorry. I got carried away and –”

“I’m no’ sorry,” Prentice cut in, his grin still wicked. “Dougal said I’m practically a legend.”

His heart-stopping grin finally penetrated her panicked mind and her eyes narrowed.

“A legend?” she asked dubiously.

His hand in her hair maneuvered her mouth to his. “Aye,
practically
a legend.”

“Pren –” Elle started but he kissed her quiet.

Later, much later, when he stopped kissing her because she couldn’t bear it any longer but his hand was in her panties, his finger was in
her
and Elle was rocking against it and breathing heavily into his mouth, Prentice finished.

“Let’s see if we can take away the practically part.”

Elle nodded dazedly, thinking, equally dazedly, that he’d already managed that. Then she sucked in breath when his thumb found her, put on delicious pressure and swirled.

“Come for me so I can watch, baby,” he growled his order against her mouth.

Her hips ground into his hand, her fingers clutched his shoulders and Elle did as she was told.

* * * * *

Prentice

Even later (
much
later), Prentice slid out of Elle’s silken wetness.

Then he gave himself a moment to gaze down at her in his bed, her head to the side, her cheek to the pillow, her hair spread against it, her breath heavy, eyes closed, fingers still clenching the pillowcase.

He was kneeling between her legs, her sweet ass was in the air and, as his hand drifted over one smooth, curved cheek, he looked beside him.

She was still wearing those sexy, black, spike heels.

Jesus, he couldn’t believe it but the fucking sight of her ass, her shapely leg and her foot still wearing that sexy shoe made his still hard cock jerk almost to ready again.

His hands guiding her gently, he shifted her to her side then, one by one, he unbuckled and took off her shoes, kissing her ankles as he did so, tossing the shoes aside, after which he joined her in bed.

Yanking the covers from under their bodies to over them, he pulled her in his arms.

She snuggled close.

He dipped his chin and into her hair, he murmured, “You’re a legend too.”

Her head came up and she looked into his eyes.

“I am?” she asked with what appeared to be genuine shock.

Even though he didn’t want the thoughts to intrude, not now, not after just having her, making her come twice and holding her in his arms, Prentice couldn’t help but feel the jealous anger, knowing, if it wasn’t for her fucking father and his own ego, he could have been her only lover.

Instead, she’d clearly had plenty of experience.

His voice was gruff when he replied, “You are.”

Her eyes drifted away as did her thoughts before she settled into him again and whispered sleepily, “That’s funny.”

His hand stroked her hair when he asked, “What?”

“What what?” Her voice was quieter, she was sliding into dreamland.

“What’s funny?” Prentice pressed, his hand halting its stroking, his arms going around her to give her a gentle squeeze to stop her from falling asleep.

“That you think I’m a legend.” She nestled closer. “Laurent thought I was frigid. I didn’t enjoy sex with him.” Her voice dropped lower when she finished, “
At all
.”

Prentice’s arms squeezed again, this time reflexively.

This made him inexplicably glad.

In fact, it fucking thrilled him.

Laurent Evangelista, renowned international playboy, apparently was shit in bed.

He’d have to be if Elle, who was the most responsive woman Prentice had ever had, didn’t respond to him.

That only meant one thing.

And Prentice knew he shouldn’t ask.

He knew it.

But he asked.

“And your other lovers?”

“My other lovers?” She, again, sounded drowsy.

“Did they think you were legend?”

She laughed and it too sounded sleepy.

“What’s funny?” Prentice enquired.

She cuddled closer, her arm sliding along his stomach to curl around his waist and she settled in, her weight getting heavy as she said, right before she fell asleep, her words stunning him solid, “There weren’t any. Just Laurent. And now… you.”

Prentice’s eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling.

He understood it was selfish, hearing this additional evidence of Elle’s loneliness, but he couldn’t deny what registered deep in his soul.

And he knew exactly what it was because he’d felt it many times before.

He felt it when he first met Elle.

He felt it when they were reunited after their first separation, when he saw her adorable, nervous stutter step while she was approaching him in Fergus’s driveway the second summer she came to Scotland.

He felt it again, only moments later, when she was in his arms and she said to him with such deep feeling, “Not as much as I missed you.”

He felt it when she agreed to marry him.

He felt it when he watched Fiona walk toward him down the aisle.

He felt it both times Fee told him she was pregnant and after both times she safely delivered a healthy child.