Gift (Enchanted Ardor #2)

Chapter Twelve

Olivia’s questions bombarded Nick as they cantered forward.

Instead of answering most of them, he slid his hand over hers, stroking her fingers as Sleipnir carried them home.

He reveled in the feel of her in the saddle before him, giving him the excuse to keep his arms around her. He inhaled the scent of her hair, of her.

Unable to resist, he tipped her chin up toward him with a finger, leaning so that he could kiss her. The questions fell away as she sighed against his lips.

He had questions of his own.

Was he right to bring her here?

What would she think of their home—or their work?

She’d said she would take it over so that he could retire—what would she think of the offer now?

How would she react to his crew—his family? His home?

She had seemed to accept Sleipnir readily enough, once Nick had touched her, calmed her fears, with hooves firmly on the ground again.

Reassured her with his presence and contact.

How would his crew react? He’d never brought anyone home before.

Nick swallowed. He couldn’t stay in her world for longer than a few days, how would she fare in his?

Maybe this was a bad idea…

But, this was their idea. Wasn’t it?

What were they thinking? What was he thinking?

He deepened the kiss, needing more of Olivia before they reached this new threshold.

Just a few more moments.

He ignored the desire growing in his lower half the instant his lips met hers, and focused on the upper half.

The sense of peace she gave him when he touched her.

Sleipnir halted.

Nick released Olivia’s lips.

She smiled up at him as she opened her sparkling eyes to his, whispering, “The more you do that, the more I want you to.”

The pad of his thumb stroked her cheek as he nodded to the scene before them.

She gasped, her hands tightening on his as she took in their rolling expanse of groves backlit by the northern lights. Specks of glittering cosmic dust drifted between the two, pollinating the vast, ancient orchard.

“Oh, Nick. It’s so beautiful.”

The sound of her raw emotion burrowed into his heart.

He smiled and leaned his knee into Sleipnir’s side, signaling him to continue forward.

Olivia didn’t know where to look first.

Nick’s arms remained locked around her, providing a solid sense of safety atop his massive horse.

She hadn’t known what to expect—doing her best to clear her thoughts of all of the Christmas movies, minstrel’s tales and songs, commercials, and story books she’d ever seen and just absorb what was before her.

This was not the winter wonderland the stories predicted.

There was no snow at all.

She could never have dreamed up such a sight.

Olivia drew a breath. “This—what—wow.” She exhaled.

Speechless, her gaze followed the road extending forward from Sleipnir’s great hooves.

The mountain tunnel opened into a vast valley sprawled before them, with the opposite mountain ridge a visible sweep in the distance.

The genesis of a long dormant volcano or comet crater?

A forest of ancient trees of all sizes and types filled the landscape, with all manner of green and brown and ruddy hues, glittering with the brilliant colours of the Aurora Borealis clinging to their crowns.

Several clearings were visible, and illuminated in a soft amber glow were dwelling houses clustered in tiny hamlets and small villages.

She drew another breath. “Oh, Nick. It’s so beautiful.”

Behind her, Nick unzipped his jacket. The mountain tunnel had held a deep chill, but here, the valley was like an autumn dawn where the northern lights didn’t hover high overhead. They descended to mingle with the trees.

Nick’s knee nudged Sleipnir’s side, urging him forward.

At a junction in the path, they turned toward one of the hamlets.

“How is this possible?”

Nick’s arms lifted around her in a shrug. “Otherworld magic.”

Olivia gasped. “Which one?”

“Who knows? It’s well protected though. That’s our job. Keep it safe and healthy. Though nothing ever happens here.”

“And here I thought you spent a whole year making toys that you deliver to kids in one night.”

“Not quite. We deliver the seeds that the trees shed that aren’t needed for cultivation. The magic happens after I’m gone on to the next place.”

“Like wishing trees?”

Nick grunted.

“Wishes for the worthy?”

“For every child. We have no control over what the seed becomes once it leaves my satchel. And no, I don’t know how it works. Or why.”

As they approached the cluster of buildings, hearth smoke tickled her nose, drawing her attention to the nearest chimney.

She didn’t ask anymore questions, opting to study more of her surroundings. Stone and wood-carved homes plunked at random angles along the cobbled path.

Sleipnir halted when a barrel-chested, fully bearded man, a little shorter than Olivia, rounded the corner of a house, frowning at some tool in his hands. Startled by the horse’s girth, he looked up at Nick. His eyes flicked to Olivia and a slow grin split his impressively elaborate beard. “Successful party?”

“Enjoyable.” Nick grunted.

The man’s gaze returned to Olivia, brow lifted as his grin turned flirtatious. “Well if you don’t want her, I’ll take her and keep her warm and busy.”

Heat infused Olivia’s cheeks at his expression.

“Thank you, Cupid. But unnecessary.” Nick eased himself down from Sleipnir’s back, then slipped his hands around Olivia’s waist to help her dismount, dragging her along his torso for support.

Olivia’s cheeks blazed brighter at the physical reminder of her intimate time with Nick.

“Good,” Cupid chuckled. “I’ll tell Vixen you’re back, she’ll want to meet your woman. Everyone else is still in the groves.”

“Oh, I’m not his woman. We’re just—,” Olivia’s words rushed after him, but he’d already disappeared. She turned back to Nick. “I don’t know what we are.”

But the words settled into her as she looked into Nick’s eyes. ‘Your woman.’

He held her gaze, expression thoughtful for a few seconds before he approached Sleipnir to remove his gear.

She watched him work, removing the heavy riding gear from the giant horse.

‘Your woman.’

Olivia shivered as the words worked their way through her, tempting. Enticing.

Not realistic.

Not that any of this is anywhere near realistic.

A light snort escaped Olivia.

I’m five hundred years old and my best friend is a genie.

She sighed.

I have a life in the city, in the world. His life is here.

They would have once a year. Maybe.

As her gaze followed his fluid movements, her heart whispered that it wouldn’t be enough. She’d had a taste of him.

I should be content with that. It was only supposed to be one night, and I’ve had two .

But as she watched, she wanted nothing more than to touch him again. To return to the circle of his arms.

“All finished, my friend.” His voice was low as he ran a hand along Sleipnir’s muscled neck. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

Sleipnir grumbled low in his throat as he dipped his head before cantering off toward the trees.

Turning back to Olivia, Nick lifted his upturned palm toward her.

Without thinking, Olivia slid her fingers over the rough calluses, following as he led her toward a long house tucked behind the cottages.

He pushed one of the massive doors open with his free hand. Her gaze swept the great hall with its central hearth. Every beam and pillar was carved with intricate animals amid twisting knots. Long wooden tables led to a short riser, where two large chairs faced the entrance. The scent of food drew her further inside, making her mouth water.

“Are those for the king and queen?” Olivia leaned toward Nick, voice hushed as she nodded toward the empty chairs.

His gaze followed hers. “They were. No one sits there anymore, though. Hungry?” He moved toward the central hearth, where a cauldron hung over crackling embers.

“Famished.”

“Good. Dash makes the best stew.” Nick drew a wooden bowl from a nearby stack and ladled thick stew into it.

“Dash?”

“Our master chef. No recipes, just throws a dash of whatever he thinks of into the pot and it comes out perfect every time.” Nick winked as he handed her the bowl and spoon before ladling some for himself.

She moved toward the nearest bench, inhaling the savory fare as she sat. The spoon, was also made of wood, its handle delicately etched with a tree in bloom. Blowing gently on the steam, she waited until Nick was seated before tasting. Flavour exploded across her tongue. “Mmm.”

“Thor’s balls, it worked!”

Olivia nearly choked on her food at the thunderous words rolling through the vast room from the door behind her. Dropping her spoon, she turned to see three tall figures approaching.

“Sleipnir let us know we had company.”

“Glad to see our hard work has paid off,” the loud one said with a wide grin.

Olivia gaped at the three giants, easily seven feet tall, with bluish skin and long pointed ears.

“You’ll get use to Donder, he doesn’t have a volume setting. This is Blixem. They’re cousins on my mother’s side.” Nick said, indicating the second figure with a long jagged scar down the side of his face.

She reached out a hand to shake, eyes darting between the two identical faces of the still grinning giants.

“I expect you haven’t met Alfar before,” Blixem grinned. “Few have, but you’ll get used to us. The others did. After awhile.”

“Alfar?” Olivia whispered to Nick.

Before he could answer, the third stepped out from behind the twins, his expression far less friendly than his companions. “The human idea of elves.” He explained.

“My brother, Rudolph.”

“Half brother.” Rudolph sniffed, reddened nostrils curling as he ignored Olivia’s proffered hand before turning his attention to Nick, voice nasal. “Wonderful. So you managed to find yourself a willing human. Or did you have to throw it over your shoulder kicking and screaming, like the old days?”

Where the twins were muscled, Rudolph was a larger, leaner and bluer version of Nick. And smelly. Rancid fumes of body odor and stale alcohol emanated from him, threatening Olivia’s delicate sense of smell.

“I’m Olivia.” She dropped her hand, straightening her shoulders, flicking her attention from Rudolph to the others.

“I don’t care.”

“Dolph, don’t be a dick.” Blixem snapped, heading toward the stew pot. “Eat something before you make a complete ass of yourself. Then go take a bath.”

Dolph grunted as he turned away from them, and poured himself a drink from a sideboard.

Relieved that Dolph had put more distance between them, Olivia drew a deeper breath to clear the foul smell from her nose and control her instant dislike of Nick’s family member.

“Blix and I finished pruning the eastern grove. Tools are with Vixen for sharpening. She’ll be here in a minute.”

“Thanks Don. Cupid will be pleased to hear we’re all on task.”

“Everyone else is in the far groves, harvesting. They’ll be back in a day or two.” Blix straddled a bench, digging into his bowl. “Tell us about the party.”

“You’d better wait till Vixen is here. She’ll have your scrotum if you give us all the details without her.” Don said.

Nick rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of it, after all the effort she went to.”

“Mm. No that was all Cupid. He was tired of looking at your mopey face for the last few centuries and had enough. The rest of us just chipped in.”

“I don’t mope,” Nick pinned him with his glare, receiving a return eye roll for his effort.

“Not all of us.” Dolph poured another drink, then took up a post, leaning against a nearby pillar. “None of my business.”

“And yet you’re still hanging around for the details.” Blix shot back.

“Fuck you, prick. I don’t need—,”

“Manners!” Don cracked, shoving a full bowl into Dolph’s chest.

Olivia jumped back into Nick. She drew a deep breath to steady her racing heart as the surrounding air thickened.

“We have a guest.” The rest of Donder’s words rumbled as he tilted his head toward Olivia.

Dolph snorted, putting the bowl down on the nearest table, cup still in hand.

The door opened once more, drawing their attention to two figures striding toward them.

Olivia smiled as Cupid stopped in front of her, gently took her free hand and bent over it, placing a soft kiss on the back of her knuckles. “Now we can have proper introductions.”

She stood to greet the woman with him, offering her hand as she’d done with the Alfar.

“Vixen.” Her grasp was firm, her gaze studious, as she looked up into Olivia’s eyes. “Tools are sharpened and hanging in their places for tomorrow.” She released Olivia, turning her attention to the bowl Don handed her before taking a place at the table, pinning Nick with her unwavering stare.

“Better get started,” Cupid settled next to her. “My wife is impatient for your news.”