Unwrapping Mr. Roth (12 page)

With his feet still shod, Nick put them up on the new glass coffee table in his apartment’s living room and crossed his legs at the ankles.

He sat very still in the dark with his arms resting along the sofa’s cushion tops.

Everything on him hurt. His brain, his skin, his joints.

His heart.

When he fought, he put everything into it, so the pain was no surprise. His heart, though, hadn’t bruised by some alleyway brawlers, but by a beautiful, perfect,
scary
little descendant of roughnecks and fortunetellers.

And she was standing right in front of him, swaying a bit from her teleport.

My Gilly

Clearing her throat, she pulled her cloak closed—he was pretty sure that was his—and raised her chin in greeting.

He raised his in turn. He was only half surprised to see her, figuring Mother had probably guilt-tripped her into swinging by.

“Kori thought you’d be here,” Gillian said, quickly disabusing him of that notion. “Why didn’t you go to the palace? Everyone’s waiting on you for breakfast.”

There were no noises in the room aside from the heat being blown up through the air vents and the ticking of the clock invisible. The silence seemed to make her nervous. She wouldn’t stop fidgeting her ring or shifting her weight.

He said nothing, just stared. He didn’t know when he’d ever have a chance to just look at her again. His queen: sweetly ruthless, and so pretty. So
human
.

Slowly, she made her way slowly to the end table near the sofa where she switched on the lamp.

Looking at him, she winced.

He ran his tongue over his split lip and thumbed the edge of the bruise along his cheekbone.

Sitting carefully on the edge of the cushion to his right, she whispered, “What happened, Nicky?”

Nicky
. She was the only person who’d ever called him that.

He studied her face quietly, noted the curiosity and intensity, and decided that perhaps she really did want to know.

“I couldn’t help myself, Gillian.”

“What, you went and beat up some guy because you were angry I gave that land to your sisters?”

“It’s not about that. But,
yes
, that angered me because of
why
you did it. To spite me. To push me away.”

“It’s a marriage of convenience. Most people don’t expect those to turn into love matches…and most human people
need
those.”

“I’m not going to apologize for wanting you.”

She tucked her hair behind her ears and let out a breath. “I don’t want you to apologize for it. I guess in a way I’m flattered.” Her laugh was dry and mirthless. “I just don’t know what to do with you. Hell, with this whole situation, really. Stuff like this doesn’t happen to girls like me.
Guys
like you don’t happen to girls like me.”

He pulled his arm in and held his hand in front of his face, tightening it into a fist and then letting it fall slack onto his lap. “This is
me
, Gilly. The Nick that existed before there was a Santa. Temperamental. Irrational. Spiteful. I suppose by human standards I’d be classified as a sociopath.”

“Stop it.” Her tone was quiet, but commanding, so he’d listen.
Obey.

He pushed out a long exhalation and carefully stood, putting one hand over his aching ribs with a wince.

“What set you off tonight?” She followed him to his spotless kitchen and waited quietly as he dumped ice from the freezer into the stainless steel sink then shoved his fists into the frozen crags. He turned his head robotically toward her, grinding his teeth against the pain. “Old grudge.”

“Someone stronger than you?”

“Some
ones
. I guess it was a fair fight.”

“I take it you won?”

“It was a draw. I’m glad they’ll be in the hospital for a few days whereas I’ll be good as new in a few hours. I should feel bad about wishing I’d hurt them more.” He pulled his hands out of the sink, shook the extra water off, and looked at his knuckles. The swelling was already going down. “But I don’t. That’s the man you’re married to, Gilly. I’m so incredibly fucked up and I know it…yet I’m wired to keep you forever even if I can’t give you what you need.”

“And what do I need?”

“I don’t know. When it comes to you, I don’t know shit. That’s why I’m making a mess of things, right?” He picked up a dishtowel, carefully dried his hands, and then tossed the soiled cloth onto the counter.

She followed him into his bedroom where he sat on the edge of his bed and started unbuttoning the shredded shirt with shaking hands.

“Let me help.”

He eyed her warily for a long moment, then put his hands onto his lap and nodded.

As she unfastened the buttons on his cuffs then started with the ones at his neck and down his torso, he maintained his gaze upon her face, as if it would pain him to look down.

She pushed the trashed shirt back from his shoulders and then traced the outline of one nipple.

He finally cast his sights downward toward her rogue hand and grasped it, turning it over to lay kisses on her wrist and palm.

She was like the sweetest, most delectable candy and he couldn’t even afford one piece of her. One more taste and he’d be lost.

Maybe he was lost already.

He let her hand fall and sighed. “The redcap queen and brownie court sent us wedding gifts today. They were so thankful to have their items back. They never expected to see them again.”

“What good were they to us?”

To us.
Probably just a slip of the tongue, but it tightened something in his chest anyway hearing her say it. “None. Giving them back would have been a demonstration of weakness on my part.”

“Doing the right thing is never weak. You should know that better than anyone.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

She knelt onto her heels and rested her elbows atop her thighs. “Probably not. My own dog doesn’t deserve me.”

“There’s only enough room for one of us to be pitiful right now.”

“Fair enough.” She grabbed one of Nick’s black brogues by the heel, slid it off, and then rolled his dress sock off his foot. Then she repeated it all on the other side, skimming her fingers up the bottoms of his pants as she went.

Gentle touch. Practically seductive, but certainly she didn’t want him seduced.

Nick leaned back onto his elbows. “Take off my pants,” he said, barely above a whisper.

She did what he asked, moving her hands up to his silver belt buckle, loosening it, then pulling the entire accessory free of the pants loops before dropping it on top of the red shirt.

She maneuvered her fingers behind his button and danced them over the skin of his lower belly, finding the top of his briefs. Button free of its hole, she unzipped his fly and then wriggled his pants and briefs down past his hipbones and beyond when he held himself up off the bed a few inches so she could manage the rest.

She didn’t look at him. Apparently the state of his ripped slacks was
very
important. She fussed over them, folding them carefully and looking around the room for someplace to put them.

Perhaps sometimes she needed to be told what to do, just like he did. She didn’t like being managed in public, but behind closed doors, maybe it was harder for her to know the next step.

He could help her, at least for a little while.

As she lingered in front of his open closet, he strode past her nude and flicked on the bathroom light. “I’m going to take a shower. “I expect you to be nude and in my bed when I come out.”

***

Gillian walked back to the bed and sat atop the indentation he had left and pulled her phone out of the pocket of her cardigan. She dialed Eldora’s number and put the phone to her ear.

“Is Nick coming? We’re holding breakfast for you two,” Eldora asked in lieu of saying hello.

“No, go ahead and eat,” Gillian said. “Tell Kori she can have my bacon and let the other girls know their gifts are hidden under my bed. Nick got himself into a bit of trouble. He’s licking his wounds and said he’s going to bed.”

Eldora was quiet for a moment on her end of the connection in not-quite-Germany and then with her usual prescience asked, “You’ll stay with him?”

“Until he sleeps it off, yes.”

“I’ll keep Kori from stalking the halls waiting for your arrival then. See you for supper, dear. And…Gillian?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Gillian didn’t know what she was doing. She was hoping Eldora did.

Please know
.

“Doing what needs to be done.” With that inscrutable statement, Eldora disconnected.

Nick’s shower seemed to take an unreasonably long amount of time for the size of a standard water heater, but Gillian needed all that time to nervously remove all her layers of winter clothes. Her boots and tights. Her suede skirt, the cloak, the ivory turtleneck with the coffee splotch.

Once Gillian was under the warm down comforter and beneath satiny sheets, she shed her bra and panties.

Then she waited.

And waited.

She had one foot planted in dreamland when Nick finally emerged.

He strode over with greater ease than he’d had a half hour before, but with still some stiffness. She could tell even in the dim light that his bottom lip was whole once more. Elf healing was an awe-inspiring phenomenon.

Would she be privy to it if she stayed? If she kept him?

He pulled the covers back, climbed in, and insinuated himself close to her. He wrapped one of his damp legs around hers and slung an arm around her torso. His cock nestled between her ass cheeks, and he pressed his face into her loose hair, inhaling deeply.

Tightening his hold on her, instead of groping, fondling, pressing—the only things he moved were his lips. “Good night, Gilly. I love you. I’m…
sorry
.”

“What for?”

He didn’t answer.

That scared her. The last time he’d held his tongue it was because he hadn’t been ready to tell her he needed her to be his queen.

Perhaps he thinks now that he doesn’t?

She’d quit a lot of jobs, but she’d never been fired from one. Knowing her luck, she’d be let go from the first job she wanted desperately to keep.

Gillian was alone in Nick’s bed when she woke.

She had no way of knowing how long he’d been gone, but her phone’s clock told her it was around dinnertime at the palace.

She found her discarded clothes on the glass coffee table Nick had obviously replaced since her fight with Hortense. She dressed, brushed her teeth with the spare toothbrush in Nick’s bathroom, and teleported to the palace, landing in the dining room.

The servants were still setting the tables, and upon spying her, bowed low and paused their work. “Good evening, milady,” they mumbled acquiescently.

“Hello.” She gave each young elf a tap on the shoulder on the way out of the main hall and then broke out at a dead sprint as soon as she reached the stairs. She hadn’t missed dinner, and was thankful enough at her good luck that she figured she should probably dress appropriately for the occasion.

It wasn’t every day that a queen told her husband she wanted to keep him, and asked him to keep
her
.

She ran past the open door to Eldora’s sitting room and immediately had a lady in waiting on her heels. “There’s coffee tonight,” Kori said, catching up to Gillian. “They got it just for you.”

“That’s awesome, because this is going to be my breakfast, lunch, and dinner rolled up into one fattening meal.”

They turned into Gillian’s chambers and Gillian immediately started peeling off her clothes for a shower.

“Breakfast was great.” Kori giggled and started swaying from side to side as if to the beat of music only she could hear.

Gillian stopped tugging her tights down long enough to give the young nymph a maternal squint. “Did that boy come over again?”

Kori’s responding giggle was the only answer Gillian needed.

“I’m going to revoke that kid’s welcome the next time I see him.”

“Oh, Aunt Gillian, he’s harmless.”

“Yeah, and I was born yesterday.”

Gillian showered and had Kori zip her into her favorite little red dress in honor of the occasion. It was cut low in the front so her cleavage was on display, and had a hem that ended just above her knees. There was a little kick slit in the front for a bit of ease so the snug skirt didn’t rip when she crouched to fasten the closures of her ankle boots.

They made their way down to the main hall to find that all but three seats at the table were filled. The one at the far end was occupied by a tired-looking elf in a decadent black suit with satin lapels who sat with his chin resting on his fist, looking bored—and not just for show.

I can perk him up.

“Sorry for our tardiness,” Kori called over the din, and everyone in the room who’d previously been distracted by the ribald jokes of a visiting Ogre at the middle of the table, turned to look at once as if in a single unit.

They all rose as Gillian moved with Kori toward their assigned seats.

Gillian’s assigned place was at the end, directly opposite Nick with Kori in the empty adjacent seat at her right.

Kori sat and unfolded her napkin onto her lap, but before the butler could push Gillian’s chair in, Nick’s booming voice froze him.

“Gilly, sit here.” Nick gestured to the empty seat near him, way down at the other end of the table.

Gillian looked to Eldora. The queen always sat at the end, supposedly.

“He’s the king, and like you, he does what he wants,” Eldora said quietly.

“For me to be a schoolteacher, I suck at following rules, huh?” Gillian eased back from the table.

The butler followed and when her ass landed on the seat closer to Nick and the chair was pushed in, the rest of the guests sat. They stared down at Nick’s end of the table and Gillian smiled at them all like a beauty queen hopped up on Pixy Sticks.

Are they looking to me for guidance? Good luck, folks.
“You all look
amazing
,” she said, pulling the nearby wine carafe closer while trying to give each person a few seconds of eye contact.

They all thanked her profusely, and then got distracted, talking amongst themselves about their coiffures and attire. Apparently, drawing attention to their appearances was the easiest way to distract magicfolk.

Obviously noting how uncomfortable Gillian was, Nick picked up the heavy crystal carafe and poured a couple of inches of viscous red wine into her goblet.

The butler ran over, evidently mortified that they should serve themselves.

Nick held up a hand to discourage him. “Piers, if the main course is ready, take our food upstairs to my chambers. The queen and I must give our apologies after the soup.”

“Yes, sir.”

No one else seemed to be paying any attention to them anymore, so Gillian rested her elbows onto the tabletop and leaned closer to the mysterious elf. “How are your ribs, Nicky?”

“Better.”

“Sleep well?”

“Quite.” He picked up his salad fork and twirled it between his long fingers, distracted for a moment, and then turned those emotionless eyes up to her. “And you?”

“I woke up sort of cold, actually.”

The Kobold across from Gillian must have heard some snippet of conversation she found interesting because she whipped her head around to Nick and said, “Oh, the winters here are just unbearable. We had to install a second fireplace in my bedroom because I just could
not
get warm. Oh, poor Queen Gillian, from such a humid place, too! How will you cope?”

Gillian stared dumbly at her for a moment, unable to come up with an appropriate retort.

“Gillian’s comfort is my upmost concern,” Nick said, reaching over to tap the back of the woman’s hand.

She swooned a bit and put her hands over her heart. “Ach, that’s so sweet. I wish someone gave a shit about my comfort.” She gave the male Kobold to her right’s ribs a resentful stab with her elbow, causing him to spew his wine onto one of the holly and ivy centerpieces. They bickered amongst themselves, which gave Gillian the opportunity to resume her thinly veiled conversation with Nick.

He didn’t say anything. He just reached over and took her hands into both of his and wrapped hers around a vial. He held her hands closed over the small, cold glass cylinder and giving her absolute eye contact. “Perhaps you can put it in your soup,” he said.

“What is it?”

He let go of her hands and sat back, relaxing his arms atop the ornately carved rests of his chair. “It won’t make you any warmer when you wake up, but it may…dissolve some tension. It may take a few days for you to be free of the…worst of your affliction.” His jaw spasmed.

She looked down at the little corked bottle, no more than an inch-and-a-half long and a half-inch in diameter filled with a clear liquid that could have been any number of things. Poison even, but she was pretty sure Nick wasn’t that cruel of an elf.

“It’s tasteless. It shouldn’t affect your soup,” he said and right on cue, the servers ladled generous portions of thick, red bisque into their bowls.

“Must have been a real inconvenience, getting this.” She closed her fingers around the via once again upon noticing Kori’s ashen face as she watched them from her end of the table.

She must have guessed what was in it.

“Yes.” He entwined his fingers and rested his chin atop the basket they made. “As you know, this world is all about favors. I called in some.”

“Oh. Is this the only vial?”

He shrugged. “The plant it’s extracted from is a rather short-lived perennial found only in the Black Forest. Should be dying off right around now.”

“I’m sorry.” And she was. For Nick to have asked a favor of one of his sisters for help doing something that would dissolve the magic of his marriage must have been majorly humiliating, not to mention humbling.

Beyond increased longevity, Gillian didn’t even know what all the perks were yet of being an elf’s true mate. She’d been too busy avoiding him to ask. They’d need to have a little chat.

“You only need one dose,” he said. “You’ll probably want to lie down afterward. I hear the effects can be somewhat disorienting.”

“Thanks.”

Nick dipped his spoon into his bisque and brought it to his lips, watching her carefully.

“And if I decided I didn’t want the…” She assessed the Kobolds in front of her and found they were still distracted by the same argument. “The
treatment
, what would happen?”

Nick raised a brow but let no other sign of emotion register on his face. “You’d have to wait until next winter to get another dose.”

“Your highness, your meal has been set up in—”

Crunch!

The butler looked down at the floor and paled. “I’ll get someone to clean up the glass. Immediately, sir.”

“Oops. Sorry about that, Piers.” Gillian picked up her spoon and skimmed the sprig of parsley off the top of her soup. “I’m so clumsy today from lack of sleep. I probably should take my meal in Nicky’s chambers, but that’d be so rude of me…” She locked her gaze on Nick’s. “Running out like that, I mean.”

That dazzling smile that had been absent from his face for so many days spread and the twinkle returned to his eyes. “You want to stay, Gilly?” he whispered, obviously struggling to contain his excitement.

She liked him excited, and he shouldn’t have had to pretend he was incapable of it. “The bread’s good.”

“You’re staying for the bread, are you?”

“Maybe the money, too.”

“
Gilly
.”

She sighed. “Okay, maybe the company’s good, too.”

He squeezed her knee under the table and leaned forward. “All of it?”

She grinned. “Much of it.”

When she met him halfway, he put his lips to her ears. “Why?”

Cheeks burning hot, she whispered, “Because we’re alike, me and you. I’m stubborn, but not stupid.”

“So very true, my love.” Nick shoved his chair back and stood, sweeping her into his arms amidst the gasps from the peanut gallery.

Apparently the king wasn’t supposed to
like
his wife.

“Merry Christmas, Missus. Bless Agnes for placing that bloody expensive classified ad I reamed her out for. Who would have thought I’d find my queen in a tiny little town that’s barely a blip on GPS?”

“Obviously Agnes. You should give her raise.”

“I will. Right after you give
me
one, pet.”

Gillian groaned.

But what did she expect from him? He’d been so good, all things considered. Obviously, he was going to let the lechery back out at the first available opportunity, and she’d given him one.

She couldn’t beat him, but she could join him. She groped his ass and wriggled her eyebrows. “Merry Christmas, Santa. Got a gift for me to unwrap?”

“In my chambers. Now.”

He gave their guests his apologies, and teleported Gillian upstairs with her laughing all the while.