The Shoppe of Spells (31 page)

Chapter Twenty

It felt like years since Morgan had put her key into the lock of her apartment. Suddenly, self-conscious about what Dorian would think, her hand trembled as she pushed open the door. A soft mewl greeted her. Everything fell away as she stepped in and watched Mrs. T stretch out a paw and roll over on her side on top of the hutch.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” she called softly and took the paw in her fingers. Mrs. T splayed out her paw for a mini massage. They must have brought Mrs. T over in the afternoon as a surprise. When the cat saw Dorian she flipped back over, withdrew her paw and tucked them, ladylike, under her ruff, while tilting her head to inspect the newcomer.

Dorian reached up, let her sniff his fingers and, laughed when she rubbed the side of her mouth across his fingers, lightly scrapping a tooth against his skin.

“She’s giving you a subtle hint who’s boss,” Morgan informed him and walked into the room. She looked around. She’d forgotten how small it was.

“It’s you,” Dorian said. He inhaled the basil and citrus scents he remembered from his first meeting with Morgan. She had become so infused with the lavender that pervaded the shop and cottage, that he’d almost forgotten that fresh scent that was her.

Morgan walked over to the table in the kitchen alcove. A basket with fruit, bread, cheese and a bottle of wine sat in the middle, with a note leaning against it.

We thought you might be hungry. There’s some ham and turkey in the fridge. Call us tomorrow. We love you, Mom and Dad (p.s. Dorian’s quite charming—Mom)

When she turned to Dorian, she was smiling. “It’s from my folks. I didn’t know you met them.”

“Wow. I forgot to tell you that, too. Yes, I went to see them. I like them a lot. Your Mom fed me and put me to bed. Your Dad pretty much inspected me.”

“My mother put you to bed?”

“Yes. After giving me some sort of suggestion or psychic push or something. That’s when I first saw you. Oh, and they sent the clothes.”

Morgan hadn’t thought about the fact that Dorian had brought her clothes or where they had come from. She’d just accepted that they were there. It showed what a jumbled mess her mind had been in earlier. She shook he head. It would take a while to sort out her thoughts.

“Well, now they’ve sent food.”

Dorian walked over to the patio doors, flipped on the light and looked out. Someone had put covers over the herb plants to protect them from the chill. Probably her parents. Further evidence of the little things they did for her. Their caring reminded him a great deal of the way Mel and Thom went about their lives, caring for him and others. God, he missed them.

He turned back to the room. Morgan stood near the table, watching him, a frown on her face. He moved toward her. She took a step back. He stopped. He studied her expression and saw she was puzzling over something. He took another step and stopped.

A smile broke across her lips and Morgan moved forward until she was in front of him. She lifted her hand, slipped it around the back of his neck and pulled him down, fitting her slightly parted lips to his. She eased her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. His hands moved to her waist and moved upward until his thumbs rested on the side of her breast, making small circles. She could feel her nipples harden, anticipating his touch. She backed away, took his hand in hers, and led him to the bedroom.

Morgan had never been very aggressive sexually. She had never wanted any man quite like she wanted this one. Even without the current flowing between them, her body hummed with need when she was around him.

She closed the bedroom door and touched the lamp on the bedside table. A small glow emanated from the bottom of the lamp. She saw his eyes focus on the lamp. “A gift from a friend of my mom’s. It’s a touch lamp. I’ve had it since I was a girl. I’m sure she didn’t have this in mind when she gave it to me.” As she spoke, she began slowly pushing up his tee shirt. She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to the muscles of his midriff, using her tongue until she encircled his hardening nipple. Her fingers splayed and moved around his side to his back, gently massaging his muscles.

In one swift motion, he pulled the shirt over his head. In another motion, he pulled hers up and off her, letting her hair fall down her back and across her breasts. He ran his fingers along the scalloped edges of her bra, feeling her breasts swell in anticipation. He slipped his hand around and, in an instant, the bra lay at her feet. He put his hands under her breast, gently cupping them, while his thumbs circled her nipples. She moaned and his mouth took hers.

It seemed to be a race to free themselves of all traces of clothing until they were lying facing one another on the bed. He pushed her on her back and starting at her ear, used mouth and tongue to explore her body. His mouth trailed fiery kisses, his hands explored and gently kneaded muscle and skin. He inched his way down her body until he pushed her legs apart, and let his fingers slowly trail heat through her moistened curls. Where his fingers explored, his tongue followed, until she writhed with pent-up passion. Sensing her reach toward satisfaction, he eased back, slowing the pace.

In one quick move, she pushed him back until he fell across the bed. Quickly, she shifted positions and used her tongue to lick his jaw and down his neck, while her hands followed the inside of his arms to his sides. She
laved
his nipples and followed the dusting of hair down his abdomen. When her mouth took him, he grabbed the sheets in sweet agony. His whole body went rigid.

She looked up and watched his eyes darken. Suddenly, his hands were on her sides and he was lifting her, pulling her up. Her legs straddled his hips and she came down slowly on his shaft, letting her heat engulf him. He pulled her head down and took her mouth, their tastes mingling. As he deepened the kiss, he started a rocking rhythm that she quickly picked up. His hands cupped her breasts and teased her nipples. She leaned back and rode him. The air around them sizzled and sparked. Energy coursed back and forth between them, sensitizing their flesh. Tension built and when their climax came, their moans were as entwined as their bodies. Morgan collapsed on top of him.

A moment later, Morgan stirred to heated kisses on her neck. She stretched. Without saying a word, he pulled her up and led her to her bathroom. Fitting both of them into her small shower proved to be a challenge, which they accomplished, even if it meant mopping up the floor when they finally stepped out, sated and clean.

They munched on bread, cheese, wine and each other, making love one more time before falling asleep. By the time Morgan’s eyes closed for the last time, she was wrapped in the warmth of his arms, safe and content.

She woke with his hardness pressing into the soft flesh of her rear, tempting her to wiggle ever so slightly. He responded by shifting and sliding into her warm wetness from behind, giving him full access to her breasts and the tender flesh between her legs. Fully sated once more, she snuggled into his arms.

Dorian moved slightly. She rolled onto her back. He raised up on this arm and looked into her eyes. “You are so beautiful.” He lifted a lock of red curl and laid it gently across her breast. “I love you.”

Her breath caught.

He smiled, creases forming at the corner of his eyes. “What? You didn’t know?”

She smiled back at him. “I do now.”

She was quiet for a moment, then spoke, her voice soft, “I don’t know how it happened so fast, but I love you too.”

“Destiny,” he said, a smile lifting the side of his mouth.

His look turned serious. “We are paired. You are my mate, as I am yours. That’s fate. Do me the honor of becoming my wife. That’s your choice.” He spoke softly, his voice deep.

She tried but couldn’t seem to swallow. It took a moment for what he’d said to sink in.

He brushed the hair away from her face, studying the emerald eyes he loved. He waited.

She studied his face, trying to read his thoughts.

Finally, he spoke, “I know it’s quick. I understand if—”

“Yes,” she interrupted him.

He stopped, a smile spread across his face. His eyes looked as though they twinkled. “You sure?”

“Are you?”

“I’ve never been more sure.”

She answered him with a kiss. A kiss in which she put all the feelings she felt in her heart and soul. He was her mate. There was no other.

“I would like to ask your parents, if I might. I understand it’s a formality because I’d marry you if the entire world were against it. But, they have been through a lot and they love you so much.”

Morgan threw her arms around him. “Thank you. That would mean the world to me.”

The door rattled and they looked at the door. A scratching sound started slowly and increased in urgency. “I think Mrs. T would like some breakfast. Or lunch,” she amended when she glanced at the clock.

“That cat has no sense of romance.” Dorian swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Don’t say that. She behaved all night. It could have been very different.” Morgan slipped on her robe and tied the sash as she opened the door. Mrs. T looked up at her, crooked her tail and marched down the hallway toward the kitchen.

“I see,” he mused.

Dorian entered the living room, dressed, to find Morgan on the phone, laughing. “Yes, Mom, a late lunch sounds wonderful. I love you, too. We’ll be there about two. Oh, thank you for the basket.”

He lifted a brow.

“Don’t expect a sandwich. Mom’s idea of a late lunch is actually an early dinner.”

****

As the Briscoes gathered in the living room of their home, Dorian found he was actually nervous. He wanted them to like him and to believe that he would make a good husband for Morgan. His palms dampened. He sat on the sofa next to Morgan. Her mother and father sat on the loveseat across from them. He wasn’t sure he was going to have a voice when he needed one.

Morgan slipped her hand into his and smiled at him. Her green eyes sparkled and a slight tingle ran up his arm. The surprise showed in his eyes. It had generated from her. She grinned and squeezed his hand.

Dorian cleared his throat. “I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but Morgan and I have found what we want for the rest of our lives. I would like, very much, to have your blessing in taking Morgan as my wife.”

Becky sniffled. Tears welled in her eyes. She looked at her husband. Talbot put his arm around his wife. “After all you’ve been through. Your willingness to face an unknown future together demonstrates your commitment. You have our blessing and our love.” He stood, extended his hand. “Welcome to the family.”

Dorian was surprised to feel moisture in his eyes as he took the man’s hand. Then Becky bounded around the coffee table to hug, first Morgan, then Dorian, then Morgan again. “This calls for a celebration,” Becky announced. “I guess it’s a good thing we’re having red snapper for lunch. It goes well with champagne. And I guess that cake I made won’t go to waste.”

Dorian leaned toward Morgan, “Are you sure she doesn’t have Georgia ancestry?”

Morgan merely shrugged and followed her chattering mother into the kitchen. From the looks of the buffet her mother had set up, Dorian was convinced she knew his intentions before he did. Lunch was sumptuous and joyful. They toasted with champagne and feasted on coconut almond cake. Dorian promised himself to get the recipe for Teresa, who, he realized would never forgive them if they didn’t call her next. Bill answered the phone, telling Dorian that Teresa was in Virginia with Jasmine. He looked at Morgan and her family and thanked him. He knew the next place they would visit might not be as joyful.

Morgan couldn’t remember when she’d seen her mother so excited. Of course, most mothers’ dream about their daughter’s wedding. She was already asking when, where, and how big in a steady stream of exuberant questions. Morgan looked at Dorian, who only shrugged, giving her no help. They promised to make some decisions before they left to go back to Ruthorford. When her mom began quizzing them about that, they both burst into laughter. Morgan took her mother in her arms and held her tight.

“I love you, Mom.”

Becky hugged her back, finally calming down. “I love you, too, Pumpkin. Just be happy.”

“I am. I promise.”

****

Morgan and Dorian spent the trip to Safe Harbor’s main house discussing her parents’ enthusiasm over the upcoming nuptials. They knew that, no matter where they chose to be married, someone would feel slighted. Morgan understood that people who stayed in Ruthorford generally married in Ruthorford, so Ruthorford could be in attendance. The bed and breakfast could accommodate quite a few people and, if Morgan could keep her mother in line and limit the guest list, it would be easy to fit everyone there. With Morgan’s inheritance, she could easily afford to help people who wanted to come, make the trip.