Her One Wish

by Marie Hall

  “Oh, thank ye, Prince Charming. Truly, thank ye.” The gal bobbed, doing an odd looking curtsy before bagging the gown, shoes, corset, stockings, jewels, etcetera into a bag.

  “Prince Charming, my royal arse,” Robin bit out under his breath, casting Nixie another annoyed glare.

  But she knew it was all in fun.

  “Hey, you left me to decide the names,” she leaned in to whisper in his ear, pressing her body into his as she spoke.

  The air between them sparked with a white-hot flare of heat when his electrifying blue eyes turned toward her dark ones.

  Lifting a hand, he trailed his knuckles down her cheek, breaking her out in a wash of warmth that made her stomach sink into her knees.

  “I did at that, Marian.”

  Nixie grabbed his wrist. She didn’t know if she meant to pull it away, but she wound up just curling her fingers around it instead, wondering if he could read the chaos of her mind through her eyes.

  Their look was so intense, so powerful, that the world around them faded down to nothing but pinpricks of blurred color. She wasn’t standing in a busy shopping stall, there wasn’t an imposing castle—the very one Robin wanted to penetrate—just a few paces behind them, or a woman cramming as many wares as she could fit into her enormously oversized bag…it was just them.

  “What is this?” he asked, but she knew he wasn’t really asking her what they were doing. Instead his question seemed to imply, how it could be happening.

  Lashes fluttering upon the tops of her cheekbones, she shook her head. “I wish I knew.”

  A hastily clearing throat broke them apart guilty. Feeling the burn of cheeks flooding with blood, Nixie took a giant step back. Scratching her bicep, which wasn’t in the slightest bit itchy.

  “And ‘ere ye go, princess.” The vendor’s throaty voice was a grating burr in Nix’s ear.

  Giving the woman a weak smile, she made to reach for the full to bursting potato sack, but Robin got to it first.

  Taking the bundle, he handed the woman five very large, flattened pieces of gold and silver.

  The merchant’s eyes nearly bugged out of her hand when she snatched them up, taking a quick moment to smack a loud kiss to one of them before burying the whole lot down her boobs.

  “Thank you, Prince. A thousand times, thank you!” Her enthusiastic chirping snagged the attention of some of the nearest vendors, who turned eagle eyes on them, including a pair of knights dressed in white and red regalia.

  Nix had no idea what the costumes were called, although here they weren’t really costumes. But they looked straight out of Medieval Times, with their knee-length slips and buff-colored tights.

  She should be much more terrified than she currently felt, considering these men were part of Crispin’s guard and she was presently rubbing shoulders with a man who was wanted more dead than alive. But it was really hard to take anybody seriously when they looked like they belonged in Monty Python’s quest for the Holy Grail.

  Giving a courtly wave, Robin latched on to Nix’s arm and murmured hotly in her ear, “Time to go.”

  Chapter 11

  “Look away,” she said, tapping her sandaled foot.

  Robin chuckled. “You told me, back in the forest, that Marian was mine. By your own admission, you are now Marian. If that is the case, then surely I’ve the right.”

  She sighed, causing the black ringlets draping over her shoulders to bob most enticingly upon her breasts. Robin was no saint, he’d bedded wenches aplenty in his life, but none had held him enthralled in the way this dark sorceress did. With just one look, one smile, she’d ensnared him like a beast caught in a trap.

  They hardly knew one another, but she was becoming a constant source of distraction for him.

  To be sure, Robin’s focus hadn’t shifted in the slightest from doing everything in his power to ruin his brother, but now there was a second desire preoccupying his thoughts.

  How to make her his.

  The way her bronze skin gleamed like molten metal in the sunlight, it made his pulse race to an almost violent pitch. Made his lust and needs rise within him.

  How she’d felt in his arms, the taste of her skin… He blew out a heady breath, willing the blood pooling between his thighs to settle down.

  “I should never have told you that about Marian. And I never said I was yours.”

  Feeling emboldened by the sudden spark of fire in her cheeks, he took a step toward her and brushed his knuckle down her cheek.

  “So damn bloody soft,” he murmured.

  Her burgundy hued lips parted with a soft puh sound and his gut clenched, his lips twitched.

  He wanted to kiss her. Wanted to hold her again. Touch her again. Robin took a step back, the cool breeze feeling suddenly oppressive and hot. Licking his front teeth, he stared at the rolling green hills spread out before them.

  “I’ll stand guard. Go, pet, change into your clothes. We’ll be there soon.”

  She turned, walking back into a thick grove of trees.

  Closing his eyes, Robin listened intently to every rustle she made. The swishing of grass blades underfoot. The slide of fabric as she slid it up those supple thighs he’d had his hands all over yesterday.

  He swallowed hard, adjusting the front of his pants.

  “Well?” she asked, her husky voice coming from just behind him.

  Twirling, his eyes slid up and down her body. The dress covered her up completely. As was the style in his realm. But the hunter-green fabric made her chocolate-brown eyes gleam and already her rich inky hair looked even more lustrous. And though he couldn’t see half the amount of skin he’d been able to before, the dress clung to her body in a way the genie garb had not.

  Each line and curve of her body was on full display to his ravenous gaze.

  “Where are your other clothes?” he asked with a voice grown hoarse.

  She hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “Hidden in the trees. I wasn’t sure it would be wise to bring them along, just in case anyone stumbled across them. It would make my true identity totally obvious.”

  “Probably right.” He stared at the lump in his shirt where he’d hidden her lamp.

  Nix stepped in so close to him that he could feel the heat of her body waft across his own. Her voice was low as she said, “You know as well as I that if your men found that again, they’d attempt to take me back.”

  His jaw clenched and his eyes glowed for a fraction of an instant. Just enough to send a jolt of adrenaline coursing through her body. It shouldn’t make her feel breathless with anticipation at the thought that he might actually want her with him for more than her powers.

  Ridiculous notion. But then, his kisses… She almost sighed. Those kisses had been wet, hot, and very real.

  “Aye.” Grunting, he cleared his throat. “Yes.” He nodded. “But to not bring it isn’t an option.”

  “Would it fit in your pocket?” she asked.

  “It’s large.” He pulled it out from under his shirt.

  Nixie curled her nose at the sight of her prison. Sunlight reflected off its bronzed surface, making it glint as he turned it to and fro. Pretty it might be, but to call it anything other than a jail would be a lie.

  “But”—she wrapped her fingers around his—“it’s curved, so if you’re really smart, I’m sure you could figure out a way to slip it on in there.”

  Was it her imagination that for just a moment his pupils had gone wide? Was it possible that she wasn’t the only one feeling this reckless, maddening desire?

  Full lips curled into a broad smile. “You do love to tease me, pet.”

  She snatched her hand back and took a giant step away from him, fluttering her fingers nervously along the thick folds of her gown.

  It took Robin about five minutes to maneuver the lamp in such a way that the pocket could safely swallow it, and then he spread his arms wide. “Do you know, that in all the years I’ve owned this pocket, never once did it occur to me to actually slip someth
ing inside of it.”

  He snort chuckled, which she found to be ridiculously endearing.

  “Thank you for that, Nixie. Now”—his tone changed to one of brisk efficiency—“time to meet my men. Again.”

  ~*~

  Nixie walked through the campsite with Robin just one step ahead of her.

  “You need not be afraid, my pet,” he leaned in to whisper hotly in her ear, “they won’t recognize you.”

  Stomach crowding with thousand of razor-tipped butterfly wings, she gave him a tight grimace. Heads poked out of their tent flaps, as if somehow a silent warning had spread through the camp that now there was a lady in their midst.

  Nixie grabbed hold of her stomach, grateful that Robin had bought her the gown. Because even dressed as she was, with not an inch of her skin on display except for her hands and face, she felt almost like she walked naked amongst them.

  Mouths hung open, the heated press of eyes roved the length of her body, making her flesh tingle uncomfortably. Robin had warned her that women generally didn’t come into their camp, and that many of the men had been long without the comfort of a woman’s arms, but still…this was ridiculous.

  They might not recognize her, but they were certainly staring. The camp that from a distance had stirred with raucous laughter and the clang of steel as men practiced their sword-fighting had suddenly stilled. To the point that only the scuffle of their feet was the only sound she now heard.

  It wasn’t like she hadn’t expected the large group of men; she was familiar enough with Robin Hood’s story. But expecting it and having it materialize were two very different things.

  Young boys, men, the elderly, they were all there. Gazing upon her and Robin with questions glittering in their eyes. While the older men stayed silent, the younger ones had no such qualms.

  “Robin.” A band of about eight young boys who looked to be between the ages of nine and twelve came rushing up to him. “Who is she, Robin?” asked a freckle-faced, ginger-headed boy with intelligent warm brown eyes.

  Clearly the leader of the group of boys, he stood at the front, asking the question she knew was on all their minds.

  Mouth grown dry, she turned to Robin. Not sure whether she should speak up, what story she should tell. She felt kind of silly now claiming to be Maid Marian. What if Danika was wrong? What if there actually was a Maid Marian roaming through Kingdom and one of them men knew who she was, and…and…

  She was panicking.

  Realizing that, Nixie forced herself to take a deep breath. Robin hadn’t known of a Marian; if he didn’t, then why should anyone else?

  “This,” Robin said with a broad smile, placing his palm on the lower edge of her spine, “is the fair Maid Marian.”

  Nixie experienced a cheap thrill of heat down her spine at the sound of it. To hear him use it for the first time around his Merry Men made it real in a way it hadn’t been before.

  The ginger-haired boy stepped forward and grabbed hold of her hand. His small, soft fingers exploring her own.

  “Soft skin,” he said, then quickly yanked her wrist to his nose and inhaled.

  Shocked, Nixie almost yanked her hand out of his, but instead tossed Robin a curious frown.

  “She smells good, too,” the boy said, giving a toothy grin. After that the other boys came up to her, patting her dress, her hands, and smelling her just as their friend had.

  “He-hello,” she said softly.

  A blue-eyed, blond-haired boy with round chipmunk cheeks blushed bashfully, toeing the soft ground before him and for a moment her heart totally melted. What were these young children doing here? Whose were they?

  “I’m Fred,” the ginger said, “and that’s Toby.” He pointed to the chubby blond. “Nice to meet you, Maid Marian.”

  Formal introductions out of the way, the boys waved a goodbye and meandered off, laughing and shoving each other out of the way in their haste to make it to the river first.

  “Who are—”

  Robin shook his head, as though he’d anticipated her questions. “Later,” he said just as John came up to them with a long frown line marring his forehead.

  “Milady.” John bowed formally, and it was like getting punched in the gut.

  Yes, she’d used her magic to wipe his mind. Yes, she’d known he wouldn’t remember her. But she hadn’t forgotten the feel of his powerful hands on her throat, or the desperate, mad look in his eyes.

  “Robin.” John smirked, tucking his fingers into the band of his belt. “And just who in the bloody blazes is this astonishing creature?”

  There was a thread in his tone that Nixie recognized. One she’d heard from him a number of times. It might be tempting for someone to meet the big brute and think there wasn’t an ounce of intelligence in his head.

  He looked more like the sort of guy who belonged in a gym pumping iron, shallow and vain rather than someone who clearly was Robin’s equal in intellect.

  John held out a hand to her.

  Nix hesitated only a moment, reminding herself he didn’t actually remember her. A twinkle of warmth glowed through his deep brown eyes as she nervously slipped hand into his and shivered at the tender kiss he placed upon it.

  Her last meet with him had been so bad that all she wanted to do was wipe his kiss off. She hadn’t realized how angry she still was with the bastard for the bruise he’d given her, but that would look just a little bizarre. So she held her hand by her side and tried to ignore her compulsion.

  “As I’ve said”—Robin moved in closer to her, and as if he knew her thoughts, he tossed an arm about her waist—“she is Marian.”

  “Aye, so you’ve said.” John’s smile was broad, but there was a hint of steel in his words.

  He did not trust her sudden appearance at camp. It seemed, memories or no, John was deeply distrustful of outsiders, period.

  That knowledge helped her like him just a little bit more. At least he hadn’t hated her simply because she’d been the “dark genie.” He was an equal opportunity hater. She almost snorted at the silly thought.

  Nixie swayed into Robin’s body as tight as she could, dragging his scent of pine and earth and man deep into her lungs to steady her nerves.

  Showtime.

  Giving John a winning smile, she mustered every ounce of fortitude she possessed and pressed her palm to Robin’s chest. “I was accosted by bandits on the woods, not three miles south of here. Robin found me.” She touched the cheek she’d deliberately muddied up to lend credence to her story. “If not for him, I do not know where I’d be now.”

  John’s eagle eyed gaze thinned, studying her from head to foot. “And how do we know you’re not a spy for his lordship?” He spat the title. “Sent to us as though a gift from the gods?” He clenched his fingers into a fist.

  Nixie had gleaned enough information during her journey here with Robin to know Crispin was hated not just by himself, but by all the Merry Men.

  She wished she knew why exactly, but for now, she’d play along.

  “Believe me when I say I’ve no love for that silver-tongued devil, and may a lightning bolt strike me dead if I lie.”

  Several of the men within earshot quickly crossed themselves.

  John snorted and crossed his muscular arms, causing his barrel chest to rise and fall. “I’ve got my eye on you, woman.”

  “Don’t forget who leads, John,” Robin said as he angled his body in front of hers like a shield. “If I say she’s safe, she’s safe.”

  Were they really going to go through this again? She wrapped her fingers around Robin’s elbow tightly. She had no magic to protect herself with, but she’d be damned if she let him lay his hands on her again.

  The men stared at one another for an intense few seconds before John muttered, “Your safety is ever of utmost importance to me, Robin, especially now when we’re so close. So ye’ll forgive me if I don’t just blithely fall into line. Though”—he sighed and glanced at her, and she wasn’t sure if it was just her hop
e making her see things that weren’t there, but his look no longer seemed so hostile—“I can say I’ll take the wait and see approach.”

  Dropping his arm, Robin nodded. “That is all I ask.”

  The breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding slowly eased out of her.

  With the two leaders coming to a temporary truce about her, all the eyes on them disappeared as the men returned back to what they’d been doing before her arrival.

  Robin turned and gripped Nixie’s elbow. “I’ll take Maid Marian back to my tent for questioning. Please have Cuthbert bring in some tea and biscuits.”

  With a final glance in her direction, John trotted off toward one of the campfires.

  “Come.” Robin’s voice was curt, but Nixie didn’t need to be told twice.

  She followed him on a circuitous route through the camp. Robin was so much more at ease here than he’d been during their trip. Smiling and waving cheerily. Calling his men out by name and asking them about any ailments they might have, or whether they’d been practicing their sparring.

  The men in kind were very responsive to him as well. Everyone seemed generally pleased to see one another.

  And Robin said he had no emotions. She snorted. The man might like to believe himself cold-hearted, but if this was his mask, he was either a really good actor, or he didn’t know himself at all.

  Everything about the camp felt like it should. Men. Fire. Tents. Roasting meat. And yet, something felt like it was missing too. She frowned, wrinkling her nose as she studied her surroundings.

  Finally he seemed to be headed in the direction of one tent in particular. It was all the way toward the back of the camp and surrounded on one side by a giant chain of boulders that looked to top twenty to thirty feet in height easily.

  The tent itself was nothing special; in fact, it looked like every other one they’d passed. Just green-colored leather tarp tied down with rope. Nothing about it would denote it as belonging to the leader of the group.

  Frowning, Nixie suddenly realized why the camp had felt strange to her. “Where are your horses?”