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Savannah Girl's Three Wishes: A New Adult Fantasy Romance

Page 3

by Paula Millhouse


  “I’ve got something better here for you.” Michael produced a pouch of gold from his vest and held it out. A smile tickled the gatekeeper’s face. He nodded, took the gold, and let Michael pass.

  The royal chamber sparkled with magic. Flowers grew in abundance, and birds sang while a babbling brook refreshed the trees and woodland creatures that graced the hall. The fairy king sat his throne and lazily looked Michael over as he entered.

  Michael bowed again, this time with great flourish. The fairy king held Michael’s future, and he’d do anything to appease him. “Good day, King Dionis. I’ve come to ask your permission to speak to the queen.”

  “Regarding?”

  Michael smiled and prayed he would be successful. “I’ve made her a gift.”

  The word beautiful didn’t fit the king—he was much too masculine for that. He was handsome, though, and a great deal taller than most fairies in court, with long legs and a regal countenance. More human-sized than pixie, his wings, iridescent gold, matched the crown that graced his head. Dark spiky hair poked through the tines of his crown, and Dionis glared at Michael with lavender eyes surrounded by long, dark lashes.

  Suddenly, the hall lit up. A flurry of winged guards appeared, and Michael put up his hand to block the glare radiating from the fairies who accompanied Her Royal Highness to the throne beside Dionis. “Is that Michael McKnight come to visit so soon after his release?”

  “Yes, Melise. It seems our wayward leprechaun has worked his way out of purgatory but can’t wait to get back in. He’s asked to see you, my love,” Dionis added. He took her outstretched hand and kissed it.

  “Indeed?” The queen turned green eyes down toward Michael with her words.

  If Dionis was too masculine to be called beautiful, Queen Melise deserved the title above almost all other females. Tall like her husband, she had iridescent wings that swung more toward the color purple and sported an ample bosom that wedged down to a tiny waist. Her hips curved back out in a flare that led down to a pair of long, toned, dancer’s legs. The only creature Michael had ever seen more beautiful than Melise was Abigail O’Malley.

  “I come bearing gifts, Your Majesty. May I?” He held out his hand, and the pair of purple dancing shoes he’d made for her sparkled in her light. He’d chosen exactly the right shade of royal purple.

  Melise gasped, and a smile crossed her lips. “For me?”

  Michael nodded. “In gratitude for the lessons you have taught me. Would you do me the honor of accepting these dancing shoes?”

  She liked them. Appreciation made her face glow and she licked her lips. “I will.” Then she beamed a smile so radiant that it lit the entire chamber. “Thank you, Michael,” she added after her ladies-in-waiting fluttered down, took the royal purple slippers and presented them to her.

  Michael held up a finger. “I would ask that you accept the rest of these dancing shoes for your ladies in waiting, Queen Melise. May I share them with your royal court?”

  Dozens of fairies buzzed in and hovered, each inspecting a pair of exquisite shoes Michael produced with a flourish of magic from his vest. Dionis rolled his eyes, but Melise swatted him playfully and said, “McKnight’s served his time, my king. He should be paid for his generosity. Leprechauns earn their gold by making fairy shoes—and we must have shoes for dancing, husband.”

  Michael held up his hands to interrupt. “I don’t want your gold, Your Highness.”

  A collective gasp came from the crowd of fairies. Michael smiled, his heart racing in anticipation.

  Dionis narrowed his eyes. “What do you want, McKnight?”

  “The young girl I love, Abigail O’Malley, has asked that you return to her property to dance, Your Highness.”

  Melise tapped her lips with a fairy finger. “You were caught on her property by an undercover surveillance team ten years ago for misusing magic and sponsoring unauthorized dancing that you refused to pay for. Are you up to no good again?”

  “Hardly the case, my queen. Abby’s invited you herself.”

  “You let her catch you?” Melise’s eyes were wide.

  Michael nodded. “I’m afraid so. She’s made three wishes I cannot meet without your blessing.” He went down on both knees and bowed his head. “I don’t want your gold. I’m here to beg you to let me help her.”

  Dionis sat straight on his throne, but Melise grasped her husband’s arm. “Let’s hear him out. He’s never before asked for something for someone else.”

  “It’s true,” Michael agreed. “I hoarded gold when I was young. I took liberties with my magic for myself, and I’m sorry for that. The last ten years away from Abby were worse than bearing the curse of this body you sentenced me to. I donna care about all that. All I want is your blessing to use my magic to help her.”

  “Tell us about her wishes,” Dionis said.

  Michael lifted his head. He related Abby’s story, her wishes, and his inability to grant them.

  Melise glanced at her husband. “He clearly loves her, Dionis. We must help him. She’s invited us back to her property to dance, too, and I want her to keep her home. Ah, Angus…He was always kind to fairy folk. The world seems so much quieter now that he’s gone.” A smile flitted across her face as she indulged a recollection. “If Angus O’Malley’s daughter wants to invite us back, we’ll go in his honor. If you’ll allow it, of course, my king.”

  Dionis stood, kissed Melise, then glared down at Michael. “You’ve shown your allegiance to court, McKnight. You may help the girl…but of course there are conditions.”

  Michael nodded. He’d expected as much. The fairy court had taken particular pleasure in cursing him to wear this ridiculous leprechaun guise as atonement for his sins. “Thank you, Your Highness. Name your conditions.”

  “You may not tell Abby who you really are. Use your magic to grant her wishes, but you will do so in your current…condition.” King Dionis flourished his hand down at Michael. “If you’ve found your true love, as you’ve claimed, she’ll see through your disguise. She’ll know your heart. Only then will I reverse your curse.”

  A chorus of fairy laughter filled the room.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. I want to help her in my true form, of course, not this ridiculous shape humans think leprechauns wear, but if that’s your wish I’ll gladly comply.” Michael bowed his head. “Whatever it takes to help Abby, I’ll suffer the cost.”

  Melise slipped on her purple slippers and strutted about before the thrones. She snapped her wings taut and glanced at her husband. “But what about her first wish, my king? McKnight is honor bound to grant all three.”

  Michael’s breath caught in his throat. This was a moment of truth.

  Dionis fluttered his wings behind his back. “If he holds true to his word and makes the girl’s world right, she’ll know him for who he really is. Only if she asks for his hand, though—for his company specifically—will I remove the leprechaun curse he’s earned. Oh, and you may not use your gold to solve these problems, McKnight.”

  “No gold?” Michael’s hope for his solution to Abby’s problems flickered.

  “No. None of your gold. Am I understood? Your hoarding of gold has been your downfall, leprechaun, so you should not be rewarded for it. No, you must find another way, at least if you want your curse removed.”

  Michael swallowed hard. Navigating Abby’s world in his present body would prove difficult at best, but that was a disaster he was willing to face, especially if it meant he might gain even more in the long term. Of course, losing her to someone else or seeing her suffer for another moment simply would not do. This was a slim chance, but a slim chance was better than none.

  “A fairy ball is coming up shortly,” he announced. “I want to hold it at her property in two-nights’ time? It seems a fitting locale. Will you come and dance for her on my behalf?”

  The fairy king held out his palm and nodded, speaking to the others. “Send a scouting troupe of dancers and musicians back with McKnight to get t
he layout of the property. And send guards. My wife wants to go dance, but I don’t want the entire house bothering if there’s nothing to attend.”

  Michael bowed to Queen Melise with great flourish. “I’ll attend to every detail, Your Highness. Thank you.”

  Dionis grinned in turn, but the smile did not reach his eyes. “Send messengers to deliver the news of McKnight’s success—or more likely, his failure. Since he’s going to try this without his gold.”

  Chapter 4

  MORNING DAWNED PINK and cold. Abby dressed in a gray wool suit, pumps, and a dark forest-green blouse to meet the day. She pulled her red hair back from her face in a barrette but let the long curly ends hang free, then sized up her no-nonsense suit in the mirror. It was missing something, but she didn’t have time to embellish. It didn’t matter, anyway. She tucked the leprechaun’s gold coins in her purse, pouch and all, got in her trustworthy but old-model Toyota and headed toward downtown Savannah. Today would be a day of reckoning.

  O’Malley’s first. Located at the eastern end of River Street, the three-story brick building overlooked the Savannah River and the Waving Girl statue. A ship loaded with containers eased down toward the Atlantic Ocean, and Abby watched for a moment while tugboats navigated its progress through the water. Then she headed into her bar.

  Two hundred and fifty years of history greeted her whenever she turned the key and entered. Abby loved the place, and she intended make sure the leprechaun’s treasure guaranteed it remained the grand Savannah institution Angus had conjured into life—with her name on the neon sign. Her other wishes had been important, but this one was critical. Now she had to make sure it happened.

  She eased herself inside O’Malley’s and lovingly ran a finger over the semi-circled mahogany bar which dominated the first floor. Carved by hand and shipped from Ireland, it stood as the centerpiece of O’Malley’s and was the one place in Savannah everyone wanted to sit. Abby flipped on lights, and the mirrored wall behind the bar illuminated glass bottles of spirits in every shape, size, and color. Name your poison—it was likely stocked behind the bar at O’Malley’s. A key rack hung waiting for those who overindulged.

  She took the responsibility of serving patrons seriously, and had called many a cab for her customers.

  Abby looked out over the tavern interior at tables and chairs awaiting St. Patrick’s Day patrons like soldiers in a brigade. The far wall of the bar held a stage for live musicians, and a dance floor spread from the stage to the waiting tables. “Hope we get to see dancing here this year,” she murmured.

  She unpacked the remaining box of fairy charms from Jessica Thornburton and placed them around the bar. First she set a fairy door next to the cash register, then a table and three chairs. She skipped outside and planted the last fairy door and chair at the base of the building, far away from foot traffic.

  Again she whispered, “Come visit me, please.” It had worked last night. Hadn’t it?

  Giggling, she walked back inside the bar. Locking the door behind her, she turned toward her office. And there her stomach plummeted. A newcomer sat drinking a beer at the bar, and he held Eddie’s Help Wanted sign.

  Abby gaped at the leprechaun, and her gaze flew to the fairy door by the cash register. “How did you get in here?”

  †††

  Michael

  The last thing Michael intended was to allow Abby to go into a fight with this Finnegan the Cheating Banker alone. He knew well how the love of money could motivate a man to cross lines he shouldn’t cross, and thus he’d made sure to be here bright and early. He set down his beer, hopped off the barstool and stood as tall as possible before her.

  “I’m here to go to war with you today, Abby, to stop the thieves from taking your property.” He’d checked her purse while she was outside, and the gold inside his green velvet pouch had turned to ash when he did. Dionis was definitely making sure he faced a hard choice. Still, he had a plan. “I want you to call your attorney. We’ll be needing witnesses.”

  She looked him in the eye. “Umm, I don’t know about that, Michael…”

  “You think they’ll freak out when they see me?” he guessed. “Because of my size?”

  She did. He could see the uncertainty on her face.

  “Just make the call and set up the appointment. We’ll deal with my appearance later.”

  At least she didn’t argue. Abby nodded, fetched her cell phone and placed the call. He supposed she was glad to have a leprechaun with magic on her side. If only she knew just how tied his hands really were. Magically speaking.

  While she talked, Michael searched O’Malley’s. If his gold was no good to her, he damn well meant to find the treasure he sensed was hidden in the building. He’d smelled gold the instant he came in through the fairy door. He ducked under the bar and sniffed around, praying that Angus had hidden her salvation in here somewhere. It had to be here. Since Dionis had tied his hands, magically speaking, he’d have to figure this one out on his own.

  “All right, Angus,” he muttered to himself, “where’d you hide the goods?”

  He continued roaming with his quest. Scrambling up on a stool, he stood on top of the bar, opened his arms wide and sent out waves of magic to search for what he was sure still waited, flaring his nostrils and searching for his prize. If Angus hadn’t really—

  “Why are you up there?” Abby called, setting her cell phone down on the carved bar. She glared up at him, an expression of half-annoyance, half-curiosity covering her face. “What are you doing?”

  He smiled down at her. “Finding your wishes, sweetheart.”

  Abby’s eyebrows rose.

  “Hey! Don’t scratch the furniture,” she called as Michael whirled away, searching, hunting. He stamped his boot on the mahogany bar. “Do you mind?”

  “Of course! That’s it! Don’t you see, Abby? It’s the bar.”

  “What are you talking about?” she said.

  “Where did your dad get the bar for O’Malley’s?” Michael asked, traipsing around the semi-circle of the massive wooden structure, tapping it with his heels here and there. He knelt down, splayed out his hands, and peered intently at the dark wood.

  “I was ten when he ordered it from an artisan in Ireland. They shipped it by container in pieces. It’s been here forever. Don’t tear it up.”

  Michael laughed and held out a hand. “Come here. You need to see this.”

  She moved closer.

  “No, come up here with me and really look. Be a sport.”

  She shook her head, but he waved her up beside him until she relented. Groaning, she heaved herself up to lean over the bar. He waved his hand again, and a three-foot-by-three-foot section of the solid mahogany became transparent. Through the space they saw an ornate metal box.

  Abby gasped. “What—? How did you just…?”

  Michael shrugged, refraining from explaining his magic, so they could get on with it. “It’s a hidey-hole the Irish craftsman put in place for your father. Wanna see what’s inside that box?”

  “Uh…yeah. But how do we get it out?”

  “Usually there’s a key, a mechanism that unlocks it. No one except the owner is ever supposed to know it’s there.”

  “How’d you find it?”

  Michael lifted a shoulder. “I can smell the gold inside, lass.”

  “Gold? There’s no gold here other than the coins you gave me yesterday.”

  Michael frowned. He lifted the velvet pouch from her purse, opened it, and poured the ashes out on the floor.

  Abby’s face fell. “What kind of trick is this?”

  “Never you mind that, Abby,” he said. “There’s gold hidden in this bar. Did Angus ever show you a wooden key?”

  Abby tapped her lips with her fingers, clearly searching her memory. Her mouth flew wide, and she whipped her head around toward the kegs of beer behind the bar.

  Michael followed her gaze, and he laughed as he spied the solution. “Ahh, yes. How appropriate. The old Guinness
tap—very clever. That’s the key to unlock the hidey-hole.”

  “Of course!” She unscrewed the long handle from the keg, rotated the wood in her hands, pressed a button and slid back a piece. This detached from the handle. A broad smile lit Abby’s face, and it was a wooden key she held up to the light.

  Michael held out his hand. “May I?”

  Abby handed it over. Michael scrambled off the bar and looked underneath. Abby knelt down and watched him.

  “You need a flashlight?” she asked.

  “I got this,” he said. He waved his fingers, and a green light illuminated the underside of the bar. “See there?” He smiled.

  “Oh. My. God.” She’d seen the indentation that matched the wooden key.

  “Here. You open it,” Michael said. “It’s your treasure.” He handed over the key and their fingertips brushed. The shock that went through him was pure pleasure, but it was Abby who acted affected—fumbling to insert the key. He steadied her hand with his own. When it clicked into place, Michael pointed. “Now push the hidden door back.”

  She did, and the box was suddenly in her hands. Abby stood up and set it on the bar.

  Michael whipped around and knelt on one of the barstools. He hovered over the box, his head mere inches from hers. The clean smell of her, peaches and cream, drifted into his mind. She didn’t move. She stared at the box.

  His heart thundered in his chest. If what he thought he smelled in that box was really there, she didn’t need him anymore.

  “Are you gonna open it, lass?”

  She licked her lips and peeked up at him with brilliant blue eyes. Gratitude flowed freely, and the happiness there made everything he’d done worthwhile. An urge to kiss her manifested, again, before he missed the chance, but he hesitated and she pulled away.

  Abby turned back to the box, and he let out an appreciative whistle when she opened the lid. Angus’s treasure chest was lined with bright red velvet, which set off two heavy bars of gold, dozens of gold coins, and contrasted against several stacks of green hundred-dollar bills. Hundreds of thousands of dollars sat in neat stacks against the red velvet walls of the box.

 

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