Love in Fantasy (Skeleton Key) (25 page)

After coming home, Abbi spends the afternoon and evening puttering around the castle. As it nears bedtime, her anticipation grows and at half an hour to midnight, she hurries to get ready for bed. She hops in and snuggles down into the covers, daydreaming about Simon, and waiting for sleep to take her.

12:10: Awake.

12:20: Still awake.

12:30: Seriously?

12:40: What the hell is that buzzing noise?

Irritated beyond belief, she throws the covers off and climbs out of bed, listening intently to find out where the humming is coming from. Following the sound, she ends up at her purse which it hanging in her closet. She digs through for the culprit and finds it is the skeleton key Simon had given her earlier. It has a sort of iridescent blue glow now and it’s vibrating. Weird. She turns it all around, looking to see if there is an on/off button that got pushed by accident, but she doesn’t find anything. It’s all smooth glass.

Still holding onto it, she wanders out of the closet and, much to her disappointment, giving up on sleep, she drifts down to the kitchen for a snack. If she can’t figure out how to shut it off, she’d leave it in the living room under a pillow or something until morning.

Entering the kitchen, she stops in her tracks when she sees a light, eerily similar to the one coming from the key, peeking out from under the door to her storage closet. Approaching it slowly, she notices the key’s vibration increases, pulsing wildly in her hand. When she gets to it, she stands there, every scary movie scenario running through her mind. Freaking her out even more is that some invisible force is making her hand feel like it
needs
to unlock the door. She considers waking Pippa so she doesn’t have to investigate this on her own. Then, she thinks about how crazy she’ll look if they get back down to the kitchen and there is nothing there. So, she throws her shoulders back boldly, trying to convince herself she can do this alone.

I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.
She giggles and it bolsters her bravado a notch. Trying the knob first, she’s not surprised to find it locked. It seems to fit correctly into the storyline of whatever horror movie she’s starring in. Perhaps it’s
The
Skeleton Key
and this is where she’s going to have her soul sucked out and put into the body of some old woman who is about to die.
That would really suck.

Abbi rolls her eyes at herself; she’s an adult, not twelve. This is real life, not a movie. And, she needs to stop procrastinating. Using the skeleton key, she unlocks the door and holds her breath (in fear or courage, she isn’t really sure which) and pulls it open.

It’s definitely nothing like she expected. The beautiful foyer is gorgeous; the kind of room she would expect to see before she entered the pearly gates of heaven. Except, there are large golden doors instead. She walks to the doors, figuring she’s come this far, she might as well complete the journey. The lock has an etching above it and it looks exactly like the key in her hand, further confirming her decision to keep going. Using the key once more, she’s able to push open one of the heavy doors and what she sees puts a big smile on her face. She must have fallen asleep after all because she steps into the place where her dreams always begin.

Simon throws his hand in front of the door, catching it before it closes, determined to go after Abbi. He had come to the palace this afternoon under the guise of needing to use the library for “research” again. He kept an ear out for the doorbell so he would know when Abbi’s date came to pick her up. When it hit ten o’clock and she hadn’t left, he breathed a sigh of relief, thinking her evening was probably cancelled. At midnight, the queen stopped into the library and invited him to stay overnight. He gratefully accepted and let her mother him, making sure he’d eaten and which room he’d like, what did he want for breakfast? He had no doubt Abbi would be like that one day, selflessly caring for everyone, and gaining great joy from it.

It made him love her more.
What the actual fuck?!
He loved her? He fucking
loved
her? Yeah, okay. He was head over fucking heels. Remembering Oliver’s second suggestion, to man up and go after his girl, he figured admitting he loved her was a good start.

After the queen got him settled in a guest chamber, he’d snuck up to the wing where Abbi’s room was and found an empty room, right next door. He wasn’t even really sure what he was waiting for, but when she came out and headed down the hallway, he followed.
Stalker much?
This isn’t the same thing . . . he doubted the royal guards would agree. Not that it would stop him.

He pokes his head around the corner, peering inside just in time to see Abbi disappear through a set of massive golden doors. Stepping all of the way inside, his mouth opens, and he turns in an awed circle. Has this always been here? He knows it’s a stupid question, but the possibility that it has makes him feel better, like there isn’t something magical going on. Then he spots the skeleton key she left in the lock of one of the golden doors. Shit. What if she’s in there with her true love? He didn’t want to see it, but he knows he’s going to look. He can’t not look.

He turns the key and grasps the large handle, slowly dragging it open, and finding himself in another jaw-dropping moment. He’s at the top of long staircase and, to his left, there is a royal guard, slumped in a chair with a cup in his hands, and fast asleep. Curiously, Simon grabs the cup and sniffs it, smelling wine and something else, but he’s not sure what it is. He has a hunch it’s what put the man into a slumber.

Remembering his purpose, he turns back to the stairs and begins to descend them as stealthily as possible. He spots Abbi at the bottom, relieved to see she is no longer wearing the silky little pajama set she had on. When she left her room earlier, he almost dragged her back inside to see what she looks like underneath it. Then, when she went through the doors, he could feel anger building at others seeing her dressed like that. He didn’t have time to give in to it, though, staying focused, eyes on the prize. Now, he can put it out of his mind because, by the glimpse he got, she is now wearing a formal dress. Glancing down at his t-shirt and pajama pants, he shrugs and continues on.

At the bottom, he finds himself on a path that leads through a grove of trees, all blooming with silver leaves. Real silver? He touches one and it breaks off, falling into his palm, and it is, indeed, real. Putting the leaf in his pocket, he journeys along the path until he enters a second grove. This time, the leaves appear to me made of gold and just like with the silver, he takes one and discovers it’s the genuine thing. It joins the silver and he starts moving again.

He’s not able to see Abbi anymore, but her footsteps are clear in the dirty path he’s walking, so he knows he is going in the right direction. The path veers left, and he’s astonished to find himself in a third grove. The trees are glittering with—holy shit—they are fucking diamonds! He grabs one and it shimmers in his palm.
This is unreal.
An inner voice replies with a sarcastic, “Yes. Yes, it is unreal.”
Point taken.
He slips the diamond in with the gold and silver. Once he’s paying attention to his course again, he sees that the path ends soon. At the mouth of the grove, it opens to a great, clear lake. Abbi is just stepping into one of twelve empty boats that resemble a gondola. He calls out to her, but a gust of wind carries his voice in the opposite direction and he starts to run towards her. Before he can reach her, the boat has pushed off, and the gondolier is steadily taking it to the other side, where he can vaguely make out the outline of a castle.

“I need you to take me over there,” Simon demands one of the other gondoliers.

The man shakes his head, “I’m sorry, signore. I have to wait for the other princesses.”

Other princesses? Simon looks around at the eleven empty boats then back to the man. “Do all twelve of them come every night?”

He shakes his head, his eyes a little sad, “No, signore. They all used to come frequently, but it’s only been Princesses Abbi for some time now. But, we need to be here in case another one does wish to go across the lake.”

Simon scrubs his hands down his face, tired and frustrated. “Look, Giovanni—”

“My name is Bartolomeo, signore,” he interrupts, obviously confused.

Simon sighs, “Ok. Look, Bart, the other princesses are each with the love of their life, they won’t be coming anymore, I’m sure of it. And, even if they did, those sweet sisters would wait for you to return.” His manipulations tactic works and Bart nods.

“Yes, the princesses would never be upset. Go ahead, signore, get in. I will take you across the lake.” Relieved, Simon hops into the boat and Bart pushes off. They are moving at a slow and steady pace, forcing Simon to bite his lip so he won’t shout at the guy to go faster.

Abbi grins as her sweet, old friend, Piero, brings the gondola to a stop by a dock and secures it. He helps her to step from the boat, then hands her a brand new pair of shoes. “To replace the ones you wore out last night, Princess,” he sings with an answering smile.

She laughs and gratefully takes the proffered slippers. “As with every time; thank you, Piero.” She waves as she prances up the path to the castle. When she arrives at the vast entrance, she looks up and is surprised to see her own home. Usually, she dreams of different unique castles. She smiles at the thought of being with her suitor in her palace; it would feel more real than ever before.

She picks up the front of her delicate, gold gown and excitedly enters the castle, stopping at the entrance to their grandest ballroom. It’s been decorated lavishly, lit with crystal chandeliers, and lit torches flanking every set of doors to the veranda that wraps around two sides of the room. Scanning the crowd, she looks for him, running over every face in detail until her heart drops into her stomach and tears prick her eyes. He isn’t here.

More sedately now, she makes her way down the steps into the stunning ballroom and weaves through the crowd to get to the refreshment table. Taking some cookies on a little china plate and a glass of lemonade, she roams out to the veranda and takes a seat on an outdoor swing. She nibbles on her treats, her feet pushing off the ground, gently rocking her. This is certainly an odd night. What’s the point of coming to the ball if you can’t wear out your shoes dancing with the man you love?

“Abbi? Love?”

At the sound of Simon’s voice, her heart soars and she stands quickly, her plate and cup crashing to the floor. She doesn’t even notice the mess as she runs at Simon and launches herself into his arms. “I didn’t think you were coming!” she exclaims, burying her face in the space between his neck and shoulder. Simon always smells amazing, like the forest, a woodsy scent that never fails to make her panties wet when it’s coming from him.

“How did you know I’d be here, Abbi?” His voice is full of confusion and she looks up with a frown.

“You’re always here. This is our time, you and me, when the world outside doesn’t exist, and, you don’t hate me.”

His face softens and he gently kisses her lips. “Abbi, I never hate you. I’m always hopelessly in love with you,” he insists.

“Right,” she agrees. “Here. We are always in love here.” She abstains from reminding him how he treats her in their everyday reality. It should never intrude on their fantasy.

Simon sighs. “Let’s pretend this is our first night meeting at a ball like this. Show me how our night would go.”

She laughs and looks at him like he’s crazy, then shrugs. Why not? “Well, first, we dance. And, you hold me in your arms as though you’ll never let me go.”

He gathers her up close to him and starts to sway to the music floating through the open veranda doors. “Like this?” His voice is husky and sensual. Warmth infuses her and she shivers from the cool night air on her suddenly, overheated skin.

“Mm hmm,” she answers, putting her arms around his neck and clinging to him, afraid to let go. What if her bubble bursts and he disappears? She shakes the thought away and focuses on the peace of being in his arms. The feeling of being completely and utterly loved.

“You look incredibly beautiful tonight, my love,” he says softly.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she retorts with a wink. With a puzzled frown, he looks down. His eyebrows shoot up at the sight of his very dapper tuxedo, as though he was expecting to be wearing something else. But, then he smiles at her and all of her thoughts are wiped away, mesmerized and so very in love with him.

They dance for hours, every song acting like an aphrodisiac, each one stronger than the last. His erection has been pressing against her all night, her nipples are tight, her every movement causing her dress to abrade them and she knows by the end of the evening, her panties are completely ruined. Finally, Simon has enough. He picks her up and carries her, cradle in his arms, to the hallway outside the ballroom. She giggles at his determined walk, knowing exactly where they are going and why. He seems to get a little turned around at one point and she whispers directions in his ear.

Reaching her room, he stalks inside and kicks the door shut. He spins around and sets her down only to grab her ass and hoist her up so her legs immediately wrap around his waist. He crashes his mouth down over hers and walks forward two steps until her back is against the door. The thick bulge in his pants is pressing her into the wall, the heat of his cock warming her pussy, even through all the layers of clothing. “Simon. Please. . .” she mumbles.