Rescuing Rapunzel (17 page)

While I ran my fingers over every detail, the music stopped. “Oh, what did I do? Did I break it?”

“No,” Nick said. “Here.” He took the box and turned it to show me the small knob in the center. “You twist this knob here.” It made little clicking noises as he did. “And then open the box to hear the music.”

Taking it from him, I opened the lid. The music began to play again, and a smile spread over my face. “This is beautiful, thank you.” Glancing at Nick, I caught the look of satisfaction and pleasure on his face and suddenly everything was too much. This was the first gift I had ever received from someone who truly wished to please me. Gothel had stolen eighteen years of birthdays with people who loved me. Eighteen years of gifts given with an open heart. Tears had sparked in my eyes and I wiped them away, forcing a smile.

I would never forget this moment, for it was truly mine.

“No more tears,” Nick said. “This is a happy thing. A happy day.”

I grinned, letting the tears run unchecked down my cheeks. “I am happy.”

He took my face in his hands and wiped away one of the tears with the ball of his thumb. “You like it?”

“Very much,” I replied.

Nick leaned over, kissing me softly on the lips. “Do you know, the first day I saw you, I thought you were an angel?”

I shook my head as I closed the lid. “You never told me that.”

He nodded. “I did. You were singing, leaning out the window, and I was mesmerized. I truly thought, since I saw no door, no way into your tower, that you had flown down from Heaven to sing.”

I blushed all the way to my toes, smiling away the tears. “Thank you.”

“You are very welcome. And thank you.”

“For what?”

He kissed my temple. “For letting me in.”

More tears prickled my eyes, but these were happy ones. I had read about a girl in a book who cried happy tears, but I had never imagined what that must be like. I finally knew. I laid my head against his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me.

He brushed a hair away from my face. “Perhaps we should get back to your braiding.”

I nodded, and opened the music box again, letting the tinkling melody dance around us as we sat on the floor, and began to work on the braids.

“I must admit I am surprised you know how to do this,” I said.

“I have a sister,” he replied.

“You braided your sister’s hair?”

“Sometimes. Mostly, I would unbraid it for her,” Nick said, and his cheeks seemed darker–though in the uncertain light I could not be sure.

“Why?”

“Her governess was not gentle with her. Kiki would always cry when her hair had to be unbraided. We shared a common room then and I hated the sound of her crying, so one night I offered to help Kiki take down her braids.”

I smiled. “That was very sweet of you.”

He shrugged. “I keep waiting for the day she tells my friends. I shall never hear the end of it.”

“Then I suppose you should keep your sister happy.”

“That is more of a challenge than you know.”

We both laughed. We spoke of nothing. Of everything. He made me laugh with stories from his youth. I made him smile with my own misadventures with my hair.

The work flew by quickly, and it seemed mere moments before we had everything unbraided. Nick sat behind me, stroking the brush through the hair near my scalp.

His body was warm and firm, and with each methodical stroke, I wanted to lean into him, to feel him touching me with more purpose than just brushing my hair.

“I think we have it,” he finally said.

I turned to look at him. “I need to braid it again before it becomes tangled.”

He pulled a strand no wider than a finger from the rest and started braiding it.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he continued.

“Wait and see,” he said, his fingers moving deftly as if it was nothing to him to braid twenty ells of hair. The piece was not quite as long as the rest of my hair–although it was still well past my waist in length–and it seemed to take him only a moment to finish plaiting and securing it. I could not begin to imagine what he was going to do with it.

He leaned closer to me. “Hold up your hair,” he whispered.

I did as he asked, holding the loose locks away from my neck. He reached underneath and brought the thin braid around my head and across my brow. Around and around he wound the plait, his fingers grazing the back of my neck with each pass, sending shivers along my spine with every touch.

By the time he had finished wrapping the braid every bit of my skin tingled with anticipation. He seemed completely unaffected by the contact, standing and crossing the room to fetch my small hand mirror.

When he came back, he handed me the mirror. “A crown for a princess.”

I stared at my reflection. The hair made a wide band of tiny braids over my hairline. I brushed my fingers over it. “It is beautiful.”
 

He leaned forward, stroking one of the braids at my temple. “You are beautiful.” He slid his hands into my hair at the nape of my neck. “A princess.”

 
“I am not a princess.”

“To me you are.” He slid his fingers over my neck, his thumb caressing the underside of my ear. My body lit on fire.

Nick pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me, my hair a curtain around us. He placed a kiss on my shoulder.

“I should…” I sputtered, wiggling against him, but he touched my chin and I turned to look at him. My stomach dropped as I saw the passion in his eyes.

Nick leaned forward and grazed my lips with his, pushing away any words I might have babbled to break the intimacy. His mouth was so soft, so barely there that I could not have explained why the lightning was suddenly right under the surface of my skin. The next instant it took control and I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my body to his.

The gesture must have caught him off-guard because he fell backward. We tumbled to the floor but he only tightened his hold on me and deepened his kiss. My hair lay like a blanket over us as we kissed, hiding us from the world. He ran his hands over my back and I arched into him instinctively.

He moaned, and his hips rose slightly, pressing something hot and hard against my stomach. The intense heat shocked me, and I pulled my hips away from him.
 

Nick broke away from the kiss, going very still beneath me.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked.

“No,” he said.

I leaned forward to kiss him again, but this time, he did not press his lips against mine as feverishly as before. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to deepen the kiss, but he held back.

“Tressey,” he said, his voice thick and heavy. He rolled to the side so I lay on the floor next to him.

The veil of hair let in only miniscule shimmers of light but, even with that, I could tell something had upset him. I put my hands in his hair. “Why do you hesitate?”

Even though he was next to me, I suddenly felt cold without his warm body pressed against mine.
 

He sighed. “I...”

I shivered as my exposed flesh touched the stone beneath me. Nick slipped his arm under my head, pulling me to him, and I tucked myself into his chest and draped an arm across him.

“If you fear discovery, it is very unlikely,” I said, nuzzling his chest. “If anything, we can hide under my hair.” I giggled as I fanned the loose hair over our bodies.

The warmth of him was fantastic, and I needed as much of it as I could get, it felt so strong and tangible. I wanted something, yet I could not name it.

“Gothel will be back in a day or two,” I said, absently stroking his chest with a finger.

“I thought as much,” he said. He pulled me more into his arms, caressing my hip. “And I fear that if we do more, I might not be able to leave.”

“Before she returns?”

He murmured an affirmation as he kissed the top of my head. He knew as well as I, when Gothel returned, we would not be able to see one another. The thought made my heart ache.

Nick pulled me on top of him. “So,” he said, stroking my shoulder, “how will we get you out of here?”

“I know not,” I replied. “I cannot go down my hair myself.”

“There has to be a way,” he said, glancing around in thought. “She had to have gotten you up here somehow.”

I blinked. “There are stairs.”

Nick froze. “Where? Where are they?”

“In the storeroom,” I said.

“Show me.” Nick started to sit up, but our blanket of hair tangled around us, and we giggled as we loosened it.

Once we righted ourselves, I turned about the room, not remembering at first why we had gotten up. “Oh yes, the stairs.”

“You forgot?” Nick asked, grinning.

His disheveled appearance made more tingles under my skin, and I smiled. “I was distracted.”
 

He raised his eyebrow, a tiny smile on his face, and I imagined he knew what I was feeling.
 

I took his hand as I led him to the storeroom. “Here.” I leaned against the wall, letting him by. “They are behind the shelf, but I cannot go down them.”

He stepped to the shelf, moving it out of the way so he could open the door to reveal the worn stairs. “Why not?”

“They are old. They will break if I try to go down.”

Nick looked at me as if I had lost my mind. “They will not.” He stepped on the first one.

Nothing happened.

“If they can support my weight…” He did not get to finish his sentence, for the stair creaked and his foot started to fall through. He snagged the arch of the door, holding himself before he fell the rest of the way through the stair.

“Maybe those are not a good idea after all,” Nick said, stepping back on the stone floor. He let out a sigh, leaning against the table where Mother’s herbs were. “I want to take you to my home.”

I nodded, for I did not want to stay here any more. “I am ready to leave.”

When we left the storeroom, Nick walked to the fireplace, stoking it.

“So what do we do?” I asked, watching the way his shoulders moved as he shifted the logs.

He turned to look at me. “It is getting late. I need to return home.” He came to my side and pulled me into another embrace. “I want to take you with me now, but I cannot see how. At least not right now.”

We rocked back and forth as he held me, though disappointment filled my heart. “I understand.”

He kissed my temple. “Do not worry. I shall return early, with plenty of rope. Tonight, pack your belongings, anything you wish to take.”
 
He caressed my hair. “Perhaps braid your hair.” He continued to stroke it. “Though I must say, I like it hanging like this.” He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes.

I smiled too, though it felt equally insincere. I wanted to leave with Nick. Now. More than ever. I was afraid Gothel would return before I could get away.

“Until tomorrow,” Nick said, placing a kiss on my lips.

Tears snuck from my eyes.

He wiped them away with his thumbs. “Do not cry. I will be here in the morning. We shall leave then.”

I nodded. “Until the morning.” I tossed my hair out the window.

While he climbed down, I stood there wondering if tomorrow would be soon enough.

Chapter 26

Nick woke early. He had barely slept the night before, his thoughts so wrapped around Rapunzel. He had wanted to stay. He had wanted to bring her with him. Right then. The plain fact that a lack of a rope had resulted in their continued separation seemed ridiculous. Criminal, even. He took a deep breath. He had the rope now. He would ride out to her within the hour. Nonetheless, the need, the gut feeling he had to get back there would not ebb.

His valet helped him slip on his boots. “Sir, a letter came for you last night.”

Nick paused. “From who?”

“The Count von Thalunburg, my lord.”

Nick stood, stomping into his boot as he crossed his room, looking for the letter.

“On your desk, my lord,” the valet said.

“Thank you.” Nick strode to his desk in the front room of his suite. There was the letter, with Bryan’s wax seal.

He wasted no time opening it.

And almost fell down when he read it.

Bryan had tracked Gothel into Gruenewald’s province, but lost her in the heart of the village outside Gruenewald’s castle. Nevertheless, it was not a wasted effort, for the town was alive with talk of the Duke being married. The woman in question was a mystery to the town–no one knew who she was or where she came from, only that she would arrive in less than a fortnight.

Nick knew who Gruenewald’s new wife would be.

His Tressey.

Nick’s stomach twisted at the thought of her married to that monster. His servants were notoriously clumsy, appearing regularly in town with broken bones and lacerations bearing a resemblance to whip marks. He had spent years taxing his province to breaking in order to support his lavish lifestyle and, while his people starved, Gruenewald lacked for nothing.