His fingers found the ends of her hair.In the distance, the sunny wind carried the crashing sound of the sea against the rocks and the call of a seagull.
Every inhale only deepened their glorious connection and for a moment, he believed there to be no end.Find him here, dead and gone, nothing but bones, locked in her embrace.
However, the thunder in his chest stole his breath, so he lifted his head and settled his hands against her face.“Hey.”Soft and low, his voice only for her.
“Hey,” she replied, her warm breath brushing his chin before she rested her head against his chest.“I can hear your heartbeat.”
“I can feel yours.”
Then the magic of the moment began to fade a little.He was tempted to stir it again with another kiss, but could they really stand in the castle’s secret doorway kissing all night?No matter how much he wanted to do so.
Scottie raised her head.“I guess we should…go.To the Belly of the Beast.”
“My dear Scottie,” he said.“I think we’re already there.”
He memorized her laugh to replay long after she’d gone back to Hearts Bend.
They started across the castle grounds toward the woods, the door to the secret passageway closing behind them.Michael glanced back to see if the door was actually there.
“It’s cold,” she said, shivering, hands dug deep in her jumper pockets.“Don’t you ever have summer in Lauchtenland?”
“One day in July,” he said, snatching her in his arms, wrapping her tight, caring not a whit if anyone saw them.“But you’ll be in Tennessee.”
“Let’s not go over it all again.You’re a Cross.I’m an O’Shay.End of story.”
“The beginning and the end with one glorious kiss in the middle.”One he’d experience in his dreams again and again.
Through the woods to the secret gate, they entered Centre Street toward Wells Line.Michael’s hand bumped hers once.Scottie’s bumped his twice.“Sorry,” they’d whisper to each other, but step-by-step, the taste of her kiss and the vibration of holding her in his arms burned into him.Michael needed a tall pint to cool his blood.If he ever felt like this before, he had no memory.And mates, he’d remember such passion.
“Yer royal!”Ernst greeted them, coming out from the bar, wrapped in his signature apron.“Sit.Table.”He pointed to the corner.“Stella!Fish.Chips.Pints.”
Michael reached round to hold Scottie’s chair, feeling more like a boyfriend than an equerry-slash-protection officer.He had to shake off this sensation.
“I love Ernst,” Scottie said, scooting up to their corner table.“He’s amazing.”
“He knows more about Lauchtenland and the House of Blue than anyone I know, except my dad.We should make him an honorary Cross.”
Scottie leaned toward him, elbows on the table, her blue eyes so bright.“Do you think he knows anything about the Fickles?”
Michael made a face.“Maybe.But let’s keep this to ourselves for now.”In time, he’d let her in on his plan.
“Pints.House.”Ernst patted his chest with one hand while setting down two tall glasses with the other.“Lady Royal, honor.”He took her hand in his and planted a fat kiss on her knuckles.
Scottie gave him her attention, not pulling away.It was well known that Prince John and Prince Gus were friends with the Belly of the Beast proprietor.The big man with the broken speech was winning over the queen’s daughter as well.
“There.Rough.”He pointed in the direction of the scuffle at the quay.“Folks.Lost minds.Safe here.”
“Ernst, do you know who may have held my legs that night?I reacted so fast, reaching for Mrs.Johansdotter, I didn’t consider I could go over too.But two strong hands held me in place.”
“Indeed.Hand.God.Emmanuel.”He pointed toward the window, toward the direction of the western cliffs where a large hand had been carved into stone by time, wind, and rain.Or as legend declared, by God Himself.
“Ernst,” Michael said.“Are you saying the Hand of God held onto Scottie?”
“Aye, mate.Aye.”
Chapter Seventeen
Scottie
