“Will you burn that thing tomorrow?” he asked as she bent her arm around to her back and with a seeming snap of her fingers, set her breasts free–and into his hands.
“Do you know how much I love you, my fair wife?”
She smiled at him as he carried her to bed. “Yes, I do. You tell me everytime you look at me.”
“And yet your smiles tempt me to say it everytime I see one.”
“Then I’ll smile often,” she told him huskily.
He lowered her to the bed and breathed against her lips, “I love you, Fable.”
She cupped his face between her hands when he finished kissing her mouth. “I love you, Ben,” she told him. “I waited fourteen days to tell you. Thank you for letting me fall into your arms that first day in the garden. I woke up untouched in your kitchen and knew you were a good man. I know there are good men out there in the world, but in my world I hadn’t met any until you.”
He kissed her again, thrilling in her words and in the acceleration of her heartbeat against him. They undressed without leaving the bed and breathed hard against each other as passion engulfed them. He pressed himself down atop her, between her open thighs and took her between whispers of his love and swift kisses to her face and throat.
Her scent–faintly vanilla–went to his head, conquering every frightening thought, every doubt. Her lips against his chest, up the column of his neck, all while she moved beneath him and drove him mad. When he approached his peak he didn’t stop or slow down. Why should he? He had so much more to give her. He let her do as she wished until he came in spurtsof trembling passion. Almost immediately, he was roused again by the scent of her desire. He moved upon her like a surging wave, gazing into her eyes, then kissing her hungry mouth while he moved inside her. When he took her by the hands and held her arms over her head, she let him have way–and he took it, bringing her to climax that made her cry out and grind him harder, until they found release together.
They lay in each other's arms, with Fable’s head resting in the crook of his shoulder. There were things he wanted to ask her about her father and her family–but those things could wait. No longer did she haunt his thoughts. Here she was in his arms! That was all Ben cared about. It was all he needed. He hadn’t been alive before her, and when centuries separated them, he knew he would die without her.
They didn’t sleep but they stayed awake held tightly in an embrace that provided everything Ben needed. He would never let her go. He realized she was an Ashmore with gifts inherited from her father, the sole male born since the seventeenth century. Her family might want her back. How would he stop them? He was glad he began studying herbs and flowers. Certain mixes were said to stop the powers of a seer, or anyone using magic.
He didn’t care about other seers, just Old Lizzie Black. If she used her power to try to snatch Fable away, he would use his most potent mix to stop her. He would make certain no one dared to touch his wife.
Finally, he closed his eyes and a smile appeared on his face where there had been a frown for the last fourteen days. She had chosen him. It still made his heart flip. He pulled her closer and listened to her rhythmic breathing. She was asleep.
“Fable,” he whispered, “you showed me the truth in the light. It wasn’t my parents, it was you and getting lost in yourfire. You showed me how to love and breathe againbeforeI got my parents back. Thank you for rescuing me, my love.”
#
He soon fell asleep and Fable opened her eyes. She remembered her father calling her mother a flame and she breathed easier for the first time in her life. She had a mother and a father. As the truth dawned on her again, she swallowed back a wave of grateful tears. For the first time, she felt grounded in something. And Ben was the one reason. “Ben,” she said in a barely audible whisper. “I love you, my dearest.
Epilogue
The wedding celebration was in its fourth hour and Fable’s head was still spinning. Her marriage to Ben in the church while they were in the future was legitimate. But his mother wanted something huge to send her son off to wedded bliss. Everyone in Colchester House ate, laughed and danced together. Fable tried to remember every detail of her wedding day, but much was lost in the whirlwind. She’d remained agreeable to everything her husband was doing for her, but she wouldn’t wear a wig. That was where she had to say no. Nope. Nothanks. It didn’t help that the wigs were ridiculously high. She laughed looking at it in Edith’s hands.
With the duke’s approval, sought and given via a quick-footed messenger, Edith sent for four more of the best hairdressers in the house. Everything Fable needed or wanted was supplied.
Except one thing.
“Dad, I’m waiting for you,” she’d whispered. She didn’t mention to her father her private empty void where her family should be.
“I think you owe me a dance.”
Fable looked up to see husband’s welcoming smile. She held out her gloved hand and he took it.
When they began their dance and their eyes locked in a loving gaze, the air turned blurry. Fable saw it and stopped dancing. “Someone is coming.”
They all watched a man appear in the middle of the dance hall, and then a few moments after him, another figure appeared.
“Father!” Fable cried out. “Magnolia!” She moved to run to them, but her husband held back.
“We do not know what they want,” her husband explained his action.
He was right. What if they came to take her away? “What brings you here?” she asked. Her eyes moved over her sister’s pretty face while she waited for his answer. The first time Fable had seen her was in a spiritual realm of some kind. Her sister’s features weren’t clear. Fable could see perfectly well now. They weren’t identical. They had the same color hair but that was it. Magnolia must look like their mother.
“I learned how to transport,” her father explained. “I found Maggie–” he stopped and turned to offer his other daughter his most radiant smile. “We practiced moving throughtime and all to visit you.” His cerulean gaze swept over the wedding celebration. “It seems we chose the right day to visit.”
“Yes, you did,” Fable answered, going to him and slipping her arm through his, unhindered now by her husband. “You’ve already met His Grace Duke of Colchester, Captain of the king’s army Benjamin West.”
