by Erica Ridley
“Try me.”
Trevor leaned sideways, resting one hip against the mattress. What if she was Berrymellow’s sister or girlfriend? Trevor had always assumed the putz lived with his mother and spent his Friday nights at home frying chicken, but he wouldn’t put anything past him. Berrymellow was full of sleaze.
Daisy shifted her elbows, pushing her chest up even higher. “I said I can’t.”
Trevor forced an encouraging lift of the eyebrows.
She arched one of hers and stayed mute.
He tried a suave, you-can-trust-me stare.
Her eyebrow remained arched.
Fine. As she was apparently immune to his raised eyebrows and lingering glances, he’d have to try harder if he planned to throw her off balance enough to get to the truth. He prowled around the perimeter of the bed. He paused next to the pillows, looming over her, his zipper at eye level with her upturned face. She swallowed, but didn’t blink.
“So,” Trevor said, trying not to wonder what color lingerie she was wearing today. He was supposed to be seducing her, not seducing himself. “You’re on a secret mission that involves invading wherever I sleep?”
“No,” Daisy stammered, her head jerking to watch when he ran one finger along the edge of her pillow. “Well, yes, I guess. I’m a tooth fairy. Tooth fairies invade bedrooms.”
Trevor propped his palm against the wall above the slatted headboard. He allowed himself a slow, predatory smile when Daisy’s elbows slackened and the back of her head whooshed down onto the pillow, blonde hair fanning outward like an angel’s halo. Her vanilla-cream scent spiced the air between them, sending the blood rushing faster through his veins.
“What I’d like to hear,” he said, “is why you think I’ll believe this drivel about you being the Tooth Fairy.”
“Not the Tooth Fairy, a tooth fairy. It’s a unionized conglomerate.” Her chest rose and fell with each breath. “And you’re right. I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
He inclined his head. “You think?”
“I’ll tell you this much, since you already know I need that tooth.” She stared at him for a second, gnawing at her lower lip as if about to give away the secrets of the universe. “I’m just an apprentice. I won’t earn my wings until I make fairy. And I can’t make fairy until I complete my apprenticeship successfully.” She expelled a long breath. “Now do you see why it’s so important I collect that tooth?”
“I do see why it’s important you return to your home planet,” he muttered, ready to give up on his whole seduce-the-sexy-spy plan.
Why did Berrymellow think he was this gullible? Tooth Fairy apprenticeship? Please.
Trevor stared down at the gorgeous woman in his bed and wished he knew the real reason she was there. What was her deal?
Maybe he should go with it. Act as though he believed her to get this over with. And as soon as he caught her contradicting herself, he’d point out the flaws in her story and force her to tell the truth.
“So,” he said, trying for a casual tone. “You’re an intern.”
Man did he hope that was another lie. Having young, sexy interns in his bed looked shady during the professorial review process. Even if she’d been sent there by a colleague out to discredit him any way possible.
“If you’re thinking I’m too old to be apprenticing, stop right now.” Daisy’s arms quivered at her sides, and Trevor realized he was still angled over her, one hand on the headboard and the other hooked on his belt loop. “There’s nothing wrong with changing careers,” she murmured, gazing up at him with cautious eyes. “Besides, it’s not like twenty-seven-year-olds can’t learn new tricks.”
Twenty-seven. Thank God. His thirty-three no longer seemed ancient. Trevor leaned his thighs against the edge of the bed, expecting Daisy to jump up in alarm.
She didn’t.
He smiled, making no attempt to hide his perusal as he swept his gaze down the length of her body.
The navy comforter lay bunched around her knees. The white cotton sheet came up past her waist. Her fingers clutched at the hem, but didn’t tug it up higher. The little ivy-green dress stretched tight across her breasts. Her neck was bare, the pulse point there beating only slightly more rapidly than the shallow breaths escaping her parted lips. The pillows tilted against the headboard, her hair still fanned across them in seductive disarray.
Daisy lay in the center of his king-size bed, no longer propped up on her elbows. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and cautious, as if it were he invading her space and not the other way around.
In a flash, he ached to cover her mouth with his, as he’d sarcastically threatened to do when they’d spoken on the phone scant hours earlier. What had he said? That he’d show her what a real kiss was? The idea had never been so tempting.
Trevor eased down on top of the sheets. Her subtle vanilla musk rose to greet him. He inhaled deeply. From now on, he would forever associate the sweet scent with the soft heat of her skin. If only he could make her feel half the pull that he did…
“No wings tonight?” he asked softly, gliding the tips of his fingers across the curve of one bare shoulder, arrogantly pleased when a subtle trail of goose bumps marked his path. She was not immune to him either. “Weren’t you wearing some glittery things the last time I saw you?”
Her neck flushed, although whether from the question or his touch, he didn’t know. “Yes.” A slight defensive tone tinged her voice. “I made them myself. Don’t want the little tykes waking up and screaming, ‘Hey, you’re not a tooth fairy! You don’t have any wings! Help, help, some lady’s stealing my teeth!’ and so on. That sort of scene could look bad to my supervisor during my post-apprenticeship review.”
His eyebrows lifted in agreement. That particular concern echoed his professional life a bit too closely. He wasn’t doing very well at keeping her off-balance if she was still thinking about work.
“So, explain this unionized conglomerate.” He stretched out next to her, careful to stay above the sheets as he aligned the front of his body with the side of hers. He was inexplicably desperate to tangle limbs with her, but he wouldn’t pursue that impulse until he trapped her in her lies and got to the bottom of this charade. “Until today, I thought there was only one tooth fairy.”
She struggled for breath as if she, too, felt the searing heat wherever his flesh touched hers. Trevor struggled to tamp down a rush of desire.
“You’d be right in the sense that there’s only one to a grid.” She bit her lip again… and then licked it, watching him as her tongue left a trail of moist heat. “Kind of like Santa. He can't be everywhere at once, so he’s got minions to help him.”
“Santa has minions?” Trevor fought a smile, and allowed himself to rub his thumb against the warm flesh of her arm. His plan was working. Her story was ridiculous. He’d have her drowning in her own illogic any moment now. “What kind?”
“Elves or whatever.” She stared up at him, not moving closer but also not moving further away. “If you want to be a tooth fairy, you’ve got to apprentice with an established one. The more prestige, the more clout, the better. Vivian is bad-ass, as far as tooth fairies go.”
“Tooth fairies are bad-ass?” Trevor repeated doubtfully. “Can any gender be one?”
“Some are bad-ass,” Daisy amended, shivering with every stroke of his thumb. “But no, they’re all women. Can you picture a man in this outfit?”
Um, no, and Trevor sure didn’t want to. He was too busy trying not to picture Daisy out of hers. Somehow he had to stay on track.
“How do you get to and from the people world?” That ought to trip her up.
“On the clock? We use Tooth Fairy Transporters for departure and homing rings for return travel.” Daisy lifted her hands to show off a small silver ring. “I can use my where-frog, if I’m on my own time.”
Werefrog? Like a werewolf, but… ribbitier? Trevor wasn’t even going to ask. The woman had an answer for everything. But how far was she willing to go to
sabotage his career?
He took hold of her raised hands. Sliding them above her head, he trapped her slender wrists against the soft pillow. With a slow, sensual, now-I’ve-got-you smile, he rolled on top, so that his body was flush against hers, thigh to thigh and chest to breasts.
Her body tensed. Her lips parted. Unchecked desire flickered in her eyes.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Kissing you.” He lowered his face to a breath above hers. “As promised.”
He trapped her mouth under his, softly, gently. When she responded in kind, the urgency of their kiss increased in intensity. He gave up on gentlemanly restraint and slid his tongue between those delectably plump lips to taste her. Her teeth grazed against his tongue. His body tightened as he imagined her mouth elsewhere. His grip tightened on her wrists. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against his chest. He swept his tongue across hers.
She moaned into his mouth, and Trevor was lost.
He released her wrists to slide one hand beneath the small of her back and the other into the softness of her hair. She tasted like peppermint and springtime. He growled as she suckled his tongue, her mouth hot and sweet, her body warm and supple. The kiss lengthened as she arched deeper into his touch, her thighs trapped beneath his, his arousal straining between them. And then somehow, he ended up flat on his back with Daisy straddling his thighs, and his hands were the ones pinned above his head. When he opened his mouth to complain, she licked the edge of his jaw. He decided right then he didn’t much care who was on top as long as she kept kissing him like this.
“Where’s the tooth?” she murmured against his mouth between hot, wet kisses.
“Hmm?” He tugged his hands from her grip in order to glide them down the swells and hollows of her sides. He wanted to rip the devastating Tinkerbell costume from her body and slide his tongue along—
“The tooth,” she repeated, pressing a hot trail of kisses along the line of his jaw to his earlobe. Her mint-laced breath steamed against his neck and tickled his stubble. “The one you slept on.”
The one he’d slept—Ha! Trevor’s mouth curved. He’d known Berrymellow wanted to sabotage the dig. Trevor just hadn’t realized how far he’d go.
“It’s not here,” he answered with a chuckle. “Who keeps skeletons lying around the house?” He reached around her hips, eager to feel the warm curve of her ass against his palms.
Daisy splayed her fingers on his chest. Within a heartbeat, she pushed herself into a sitting position, muscles tensed, all traces of passion gone from her eyes. “Then what did you do with the tooth?”
“Put it somewhere you won’t find it.” He tried to stifle the frustrated desire still thrumming through his veins. He couldn’t believe she’d been faking attraction throughout the entire makeout session—or that he’d forgotten he was supposed to be the seducer. “Do you really think I’d hand it over?”
“You jerk!” She punctuated the word with a fist to his solar plexus.
“Oof,” he grunted, and grappled for her hands.
With a huff, she jerked from his grasp. She slid off the bed, stormed out of the room, and slammed the door behind her.
“Damn it.” He leapt from the bed and stormed across the room. “Daisy!”
He threw open the door and gaped at the hallway.
Empty.
Trevor sprinted through every room of his house.
Living room? Empty.
Bathroom? Empty.
Kitchen? Empty.
He double-checked the alarm system. Still armed. Still armed? That meant nobody could come or go from any door or window without an ear-splitting screech blasting through the night and a round-the-clock operator calling to make sure he wasn’t being robbed or murdered. As in, she wouldn’t have been able to enter his bedroom undetected in the first place. Had he been sleepwalking? Sleep-sexing?
Trevor ran back into his bedroom and sniffed the rumpled sheets. Vanilla musk still spiced the air. Definitely not his scent. He was more an Axe body spray kind of guy. But then what had just happened?
Trevor slumped against the wooden doorframe and dropped his head in his hands.
Maybe he was the crazy one.
With her blood still pounding from Trevor’s mind-melting kisses, Daisy belatedly materialized in her parents’ spare bedroom, hoping they weren’t waiting around to lecture her about disobeying the judge’s custody declaration.
No such luck.
Mama sat on the corner of the mattress, polishing the silver star at the tip of her wand. Dad stood before the closed oak door, arms crossed, fingers drumming against his biceps. The warm sunlight filtering in through the window failed to brighten the atmosphere.
“Dad. Mama.” Daisy forced her most innocent smile, hoping her wild hair, swollen lips and trembling body didn’t scream just-been-kissed-senseless-by-a-human. “How are you?”
Mama aimed an absent smile at the incoming shaft of sunlight and went back to polishing her wand. Daisy’s father, on the other hand, looked like he was prepared to flay her alive.
“Where have you been, young lady?” he thundered.
Several possible responses presented themselves as Daisy dropped her handbag next to her feet. Mentioning anything at all having to do with Trevor’s scent and taste and touch, however, was quite out of the question. Everything, really, was out of the question.
Her father was Mr. Follow-the-Instructions. And the instructions had been “remanded into your parents’ custody.” Daisy could try saying she’d been there all along, out of sight trimming the hedges or something, but she knew better than to lie to an angry guardian angel.
“Uh, Earth actually.” Daisy placed Bubbles on her shoulder and tried to arrange her posture in some semblance of nonchalance. “Just got back.”
“Earth!” her father roared. “When you were placed into my custody, under my care, and commanded to go straight to my home?”
Yep, pretty much the reaction she’d expected.
“Figured we all needed some space.” Daisy pulled at her dress to straighten the wrinkles. “I know I did.”
Except there hadn’t been much space between her and Trevor. Her skin still tingled from the remembered heat of his flesh against hers. Even as a memory, he still managed to steal her breath. Jerk.
“You intentionally disobeyed Judge Banshee’s direct order.” Her father kicked off from the doorframe and stalked toward her. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Hmm. That she was incompetent, foolish, and horny for a human?
Daisy backed away from his livid expression until her bare shoulders hit the wall. “I just wanted to put things right.”
“No excuse.” Dad pounded a fist onto his palm. “Judge Banshee expected you to comply with her directives. So did I. Rules are rules, and they’re meant to be followed.”
Mama held her wand up to the window, as though checking for smudges in the sunlight. “But… did it work?”
Daisy slid down the wall, wincing as her shoulders hit the wainscoting. “I tried, but no.”
Her father aimed a furious glance at her mother before focusing his scowl on Daisy. “You tried? Well, you can try to get yourself over to the Elders’ High Court, because your attorney is presenting your case in ten minutes.”
“What?” Daisy shot upright. “They said not until Tuesday morning… Crap, it is Tuesday morning.” She reached for her shoulder, making sure Bubbles hadn’t tumbled off in her inelegant scramble to her feet. “And I’m stuck with a yeti. Is there any way I can trade up for a vampire or maybe a nice basilisk?”
Dad’s ivory wings unfurled even wider, casting the room in shadow. “Defense attorneys are assigned randomly in order to ensure complete fairness. If you don’t want a yeti for an attorney, stop getting into trouble.”
Since there was a rapidly diminishing probability of that happening, Daisy double-checked her handbag to make sure she had the LinguaLearner she’d had Maeve conjure for her. Thank Her
mes it was still there, stocked with yeti language vocabulary builders.
Before her parents had a chance to impart any other words of wisdom, Daisy and Bubbles transported to just outside the open courtroom doors.
“NEXT CASE,” bellowed the court gnome. “Pearly States v Daisy le Fey.”
Crap. No time to confer with her lawyer. Not that she was fluent quite yet. Her stomach clenched. With luck, she’d be able to translate maybe half of what he said.
Sucking in a deep, calming breath, Daisy squeezed next to the big hairy attorney behind the defendant’s table and prepared to listen carefully.
“D.A. Sangre,” Judge Banshee shrieked. “Are you prepared to present the prosecution’s case?”
“I am.” D.A. Sangre’s blood-red lips parted in a stomach-curdling display of teeth and fangs. Daisy imagined she was supposed to interpret the expression as a good-morning smile. Or not. “I call Jeremiah Lagobovid to the stand.”
Daisy’s shoulders tensed. Who in the world was Jeremiah Lagobovid?
“Urgh,” her lawyer whispered in hushed tones. “Urrrrrghhhh.”
Crap. Daisy’s limited vocabulary meant all she got out of that explanation was “he is an urrrghh.” Note to self: invest in a conversation course.
She tensed as the soft slap of furred feet hopped down the aisle toward the witness stand.
Tall beige antlers jutted from the top of short, spiky hairs. Two long, flat ears, covered in the same white-dotted brown fur as the rest of his back, flopped at either side of the antlers. Downy, pure-white fur covered his face, belly, and forepaws. A tiny wet nose twitched below lidless black eyes as he leapt from the floor to the witness stand. Wiry whiskers sprang forth from both plump cheeks and a hint of strong white teeth flashed below the notch of his upper lip.
In this context, “urrrghh” apparently meant “jackalope”. Which meant he was a representative of the Pearly States. Which meant his testimony was bound to be ugly.
D.A. Sangre nodded at the court gnome and a hologram of the infamous rock hovered before the jury. The two crumpled sticky-labels accompanied the display. “Mr. Lagobovid, do you recognize these items?”
