She stopped at the door. “A piano? That sounds expensive. I don’t want you spending your personal money on this. We’re only going after wishes that are feasible.”
“It’s a small price to pay to keep you from blackmailing me with the truth.”
She placed a hand on her hip. “I’m not actually blackmailing you.”
He shrugged.
She decided to leave it at that and turned to leave.
“See you tonight, Ginny,” he called out.
She felt her shoulders tense. She didn’t have to see him to know that his eyes were twinkling with the delight of knowing she’d rather swallow splinters than see him across the table.
In the days that followed, Ginny saw as much of Phin as she did her own father. Her father had taken to inviting him over for meals, and surprisingly, Phin had taken him up on the offers. They saw each other regularly with the pretext of portrait sessions, and used the time to plan and execute their list of wishes. They’d decided not to actually give out the gifts until Christmas Day, since the last thing they needed was to raise suspicions. Phin told her she would have to carry out that last part on her own since he would be in Boston with his family.
“Don’t you want to see the look on everyone’s face?”
“I would love to, but I already promised my father I would go. I haven’t seen my siblings or my mother in some time.”
Ginny only wished it were as easy for her to travel to California to see her own sister. It made no difference, she reminded herself. She had an extended family here, family whose wishes she’d worked very hard to fulfill. Already, they’d been able to grant at least one wish for everybody who had had possession of the wise men, and that made her happy.
FIVE DAYS BEFORE Christmas, Ginny snuck into Mrs. Dixon’s parlor and hurried up the stairs to the room on the right to return the wise men to Phin so that he would have it at least one day before he left for Boston. Mrs. Dixon told her she would have the hour between five and six to return the ring since Phin had accompanied Ed for supper at the Jamesons. Hopefully, Ed would soon come to terms with the fact that he was interested in Millie as more than the daughter of his baker. Ginny was happy to think that Millie had caught on to Ed’s pronounced interest, given their daily morning run-ins at the bakery. Phin had been right about that match though it was a twist Ginny hadn’t expected.
Another little startling twist had been how much she’d enjoyed Phin’s company. They argued a lot, too much, in fact, but she had come to regard it as normal. Arguing with Phin was like talking with Millie. She was always careful not to allow herself to reveal too much, or to prolong their time together after their “wish” business was finished each session. Now that they were aware of each other’s secrets, the last thing she wanted to do was drop her guard. He was funny and charming, and creative, it turned out, but she couldn’t let herself forget that he was doing this for a reason. He was going to get married to somebody so that his family’s company would be his. She couldn’t let herself fall in love with a person as calculating as he. The only frightening thing was getting herself to stop from falling all the way because, unfortunately, all the time they’d spent together had pushed her along that route.
Ginny’s plan had been to immediately enter Phin’s room, place the ring on his nightstand, and leave before being found out. Once she was in his room, however, her plans evaporated. She’d never been in a man’s personal space before, excluding her father’s. Her brother Monty had left home after their mother died, and before that, they’d shared a room.
She was careful not to move anything and to tread lightly as she perused Phin’s little kingdom. The room was sparse, with only a bed, two nightstands, a mirror, and a wooden chair to recommend it. Phin’s shaving kit as well as pieces of paper (presumably notes for stories), littered one nightstand, while a comb and bay rum—he must have splashed some on before departing since Ginny could smell the spicy notes of the cologne—cluttered the other.
Ginny was amused to learn he was a messy tenant. His clothes were strewn about the small room, with trousers slung over the back of the wooden chair in the corner. Scribbled notes dotted each surface of the room, showing a diligence to his work that belied his pampered upbringing. She sat down on his unmade bed, wondering what his room was like in his mansion back home, for surely he’d been raised in a mansion. His quarters were probably the size of the store.
That was how Phin found her. She scrambled up as soon as she heard the door scrape open, but it was too late. There was nowhere to hide, and so she could only stand up to face his inevitable ire.
He didn’t disappoint.
“What are you doing here?” He was quick to peer out into the hallway to see if anybody had seen her before closing and locking the door behind him.
She winced and held up the wise men. “Surprise,” she said meekly.
His eyes flashed their dismay. He was not amused, and Ginny knew he had a right to be angry. She’d be furious if anybody had entered her room without her permission. Of course, the likelihood of that happening was slim, but—
Phin couldn’t believe she was choosing this moment to clam up. He took a step toward her and got a mean thrill from watching her eyes widen. He took another step, which caused her to fall back. Luckily (or unluckily), the bed cushioned her fall.
“I apologize, Phin.” She shoved the wise men into his hands and tried to make a break for the door. He arched a brow and held her firm, becoming the barrier between Ginny and the door. He capitalized on her uncharacteristic silence by twirling her so that her back was to the door, and he pinned her there. He relished her gasp and felt his anger dissipate. What a night for happy coincidences. The headache that had spurred his early departure from the Jamesons’ was now but a memory.
Ginny wriggled around him, trying to free her hands from his clasp. “I said I was sorry. You may let go of me now.”
He bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing outright. Only she would give so imperious an order while in her submissive position. “You don’t have permission to speak. I have some questions for you.”
She sputtered with indignation. “Permission? Of all the—”
He leaned in an infinitesimal bit to close the gap between their faces. “Are you ever quiet, woman?”
She couldn’t answer for several beats of her overwrought heart. She had to close her eyes to regain a bit of sanity. She’d never had a man so close to her before; she could even smell where on his skin he’d applied the bay rum she’d noticed. Her eyes still closed, she spoke quietly. “I’ll answer your questions if you’ll let me go.”
She opened them again to see Phin gazing at her in a peculiar way.
“Phin?”
He seemed to become aware that she was speaking, and he took a deep breath and removed his hands from her wrists. “Excuse me, Ginny. I didn’t mean to . . . I’m sorry.”
He cleared the clothes from the chair and gestured for her to take a seat.
Sensing a change in his demeanor, Ginny thought to push her advantage. “I shouldn’t be in here. We can speak tomorrow before you leave.”
“Nice try, but if you didn’t care about propriety before looking through my things, I don’t see what difference a few more minutes will make.”
She sighed deeply and folded her hands in her lap. “Very well. But if Mrs. Dixon sees me, she’s going to go tell my father, and you’ll have to deal with him.”
He raised his hands in the air as if in surrender. “Consider me forewarned.” He took a seat at the edge of his bed and picked up the ring of wise men she’d brought. “Do I finally get full custody of them?”
Her lips curved into a smile, and he smiled back. “It’s only right. Since you won’t be here for the holidays, I thought you might like to have them one last time.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, knowing why he’d kept her here but not sure where to begin. She’d explained to him what she was doing upon his arrival, and therefore, he didn’
t need to ask her any further questions. But he was feeling uneasy about leaving, and a lot of that had to do with the woman sitting across from him. He didn’t know when he’d become so comfortable with her, or when her presence had been something he sought, but it had happened. He looked forward to their “portrait sessions,” which really served as their organizational meetings for the wishes they were going to fulfill. He liked watching her hair tumble down from its pins, first slowly, a few wisps at a time, then more quickly, until her bun would end up at the back of her neck when it had started at her crown. He enjoyed how she flushed over it, as if embarrassed that she couldn’t manage to keep her hair in place.
He respected her; not everybody would have been so invested in a project that benefited others rather than oneself. She made him laugh—though not always on purpose—at the colorful solutions to completing a wish.
And, as he’d discovered when he accidentally caught the tail end of a conversation she had with her father, she moved him. John and Ginny had been in the back office, where John had been telling her not to worry about him, reminding her that everybody got sick at some point. Phin heard Ginny and John bicker until Ginny had enough and let her father know that she wouldn’t lose another parent. Phin could tell by the ensuing silence that Ginny hadn’t meant to divulge so much. The conversation that followed demonstrated the high regard and the love Ginny had for her father, and vice versa. Phin knew he shouldn’t be present for such a private moment, and yet, nothing in the world could have made him leave. Afterward, he’d walked straight home, not being able to concentrate on anything else that day. He’d skipped dinner and spent the night staring up at the ceiling as the frigid wind howled against his window. Plain and simple, she moved him. It was unnerving.
Sensing his discomfort, Ginny said, “You must be looking forward to going home.”
His gaze met hers, and there was a piercing quality to the way he looked at her that made Ginny’s stomach start hopping to the rhythm of her overactive heart.
He cleared his throat. “I am. It will be nice to be surrounded by family for Christmas, and to visit friends and acquaintances.”
She nodded, more because she thought she ought to than because she had reason. “And you won’t have to worry about your wife-hunt. Although I suppose your father will want to know how you’re doing on that count.”
This was what he’d been waiting for, an opportunity to see her reaction when she heard his news. Would she care? Knowing her, she’d probably be happy for him, clueless to how his feelings had changed. To keep his hands busy, he traced the circumference of the wise-men figurine. “Actually, my grandfather’s business associate has a granddaughter he’d like me to meet. My father has met her and agrees she’d be a good match for me. My mother agrees.” He gave a little laugh. “And you’ll have to trust me, it’s not easy to get both my parents to agree on something.”
He watched her face closely to see how she would receive the news.
Her mouth opened, as if she might speak, but she didn’t. She stared down at her hands, then smiled up at him. “That’s good news, then. But . . . that is, I thought your family wanted you to marry someone ‘average.’ ”
“You refuse to let go of that word, don’t you? Well, yes, that was the original plan, but they seem to all like Abigail, and—”
“Abigail.”
Phin waited for Ginny to say more, only she didn’t seem to have words tonight. He went to her, kneeled in front of her. He covered her hands with his. “Of course, if I had someone else, I suppose there would be no need for me to meet Abigail.”
She was refusing to meet his eyes. Hers were on their joined hands. He continued, thinking this might likely be his only chance. “Ginny.” He waited for her to look at him. “Can you think of any reason why I shouldn’t court Abigail?”
Ginny felt like she could no longer breathe. She couldn’t reconcile the picture of Phin kneeling in front of her with the one of the man who had flirted with her at her father’s store, the one who had bought a coat for another woman. How long had he known about this other woman? Was he only playing with her feelings now?
She looked down at his shiny golden hair, the ends of which she wanted to rub between her fingertips. His gaze was earnest, searching for the truth from within her. No, it wasn’t fair to think ill of him. She didn’t know whom the coat belonged to, but she couldn’t believe he had bad intentions toward her. In the past month, she liked to think she’d come to know him as a person, and he was a good man. He had started out in her wish-quest to keep her from meddling in his life—or so he said—but since then, he’d gone out of his way to see that as many wishes as possible were granted. He liked to tease her, and, as it was a new experience for her, Ginny enjoyed it. She liked having a secret with him and mourned the fact that when Christmas was over, their time together was likely to end. Given this talk of a woman both his parents approved of, he might even leave Preston for good. She couldn’t begrudge him that. He’d been a good friend to her, going so far as to listen to her when she spoke of her mother, of Eliza, and even of Monty (that had been a painful conversation, but she’d felt lightness after speaking of it with him). A part of her still felt betrayed by him since she couldn’t truly forget his reason for being in town. He had his eye on full ownership of his family’s business, or else he probably would look elsewhere for an acceptable bride. But this, too, was nonsense. Ginny simply had to remind herself the good in him far outweighed the bad.
She was acutely aware of the warmth of his palm and the roughness of his fingers, a surprising detail since he wasn’t a man accustomed to hard labor. Nothing had changed. He was not a dream for her to have. He belonged to a different world, where a person like this Abigail would fit completely and make him happy. She would undoubtedly be exactly the sort of woman Phin would have chosen for himself if not for this ridiculous deal with the patriarchs of his family. Ginny took a cleansing breath and remembered that Phin was her friend. She had to think as his friend and do what was right for him. Was there any reason he shouldn’t be with Abigail, he’d asked.
She shook her head. “No.” She felt her heart breaking even as the words left her mouth.
She saw the anger in him, felt it in the tightening of his fingers on her hand.
His words rang with bitterness. “Nothing at all?”
She disengaged her hands from his and quickly rose. She had to leave this room now, or she might do something utterly absurd, like cry in front of him, something she hadn’t done in a long time. She was beginning to wish he’d never come into the store that day. No, that wasn’t true. She wouldn’t have passed up the chance to have the wonderful times they’d shared. She’d just be careful next time she fancied a man.
She lifted her chin to say good-bye, but in a blink, Phin pushed his body against hers, and he was strong, lean, and hard . . . and upset. Very upset. His eyes held her like his body did, and the only movement in her was the tremble that started at her neck and went down to her arms and legs.
“Phin?”
His eyes were concentrating on her lips. A furrow line creased his forehead. “Stop talking,” he said, each word punctuated with frustration. “You talk too much.”
“What do you want me to—”
He covered her mouth with his lips, thus, giving Ginny her first kiss. She felt herself start to sag against the wall. She needn’t have worried about wilting to the floor, for Phin’s arm snaked around her back, pulling her in closer at the waist so that she could feel every inch of him. She was wrapped up in his heat.
He deepened the kiss, bringing his thumb and forefinger to cradle the back of her neck. She moaned so softly, Phin felt as if it left her mouth and entered his. He felt the tremulous way in which her mouth moved against his, at first in tentative strokes, causing a tender wave to course through him. He angled his head so as to allow for better access, and he worked diligently until she opened her mouth to him. He growled with satisfaction and tasted the sweetness of
her, holding her so close he could smell the starch in her collar and the lavender against her skin.
Ginny had lost herself to the new sensations of being devoured mind, body, and spirit by Phin, but as his hand roamed over her back and settled on her backside, she felt herself tense up. She jerked away from him so fast he didn’t have time to keep her in the confinement against the wall.
His eyes were glazed over with . . . desire? She could almost smile right now at the knowledge that she’d put that look there. In this moment, he desired her. He ran a hand through his hair and took a step toward her.
The kiss didn’t mean anything, of course. Ginny knew that men could feel lust for a woman without caring for her the way a man should before giving her such attentions. They’d been spending so much time together that Phin might think she had been after him all along, and, nice man that he was, he was probably only settling her curiosity. She fought the urge to run her fingers over her bruised lips. She knew better than to let herself hope that he’d really feel the same inexplicable draw that she felt for him, the desire to see him every day, to hear his voice. She delighted in his laughter. She . . . she stopped herself. Had she finally done it, then? Had she forgotten that she was not supposed to fall in love with him and done it anyway?
“Ginny.”
She swallowed hard and made her way to the door, her knuckles blanching on the doorknob. “We’d both do well to forget this happened. I hope you have a nice time in Boston, and . . .” She let her voice trail off. She’d been about to wish him well with Abigail, but she could only lie to herself and to him so much.
“Ginny, wait!”
She ran out of his room before he could convince her that she really wanted to stay and find out where those kisses led. She didn’t care if anybody saw her leave his room; and thankfully, nobody did.
Five Golden Rings: A Christmas Collection Page 19
