Ultimate Nyssa Glass H. Burke (bookstand for reading .txt) 📖

“I haven’t given you your gift yet,” he whispered.

She opened her eyes. “I hadn’t even thought about that. It feels so perfect as is. I don’t need a gift, really, just you.”

“No, you …” He swallowed. “You may not need anything, but I want to give you something.” He took a small white box from his breast pocket. “It doesn’t feel like enough. I hope you like it.”

Nyssa took the lid off the box. A silver marble, about the size of a coin, with a tiny clockwork key sticking from its side and a chain attached to the top, rested inside. She took it out and turned the key. With a click, the sphere unfolded, opening into a silver flower. A chill went down her spine. “Oh …”

“Do you like it?” Ellis’s asked, his eyes earnest.

She nodded, somehow unable to speak.

“It’s not perfect. I’m not exactly a silversmith.”

She found her voice, but it came out in a rasp. “No, it is perfect.”

He took the chain from her hand and fastened it about her neck. It rested cool against her skin. She quivered. He let out a long breath. His fingertips trailed over the silver rose, then across her collarbone, making her heart race. His hand found the back of her neck, and he pulled her in for a lingering kiss. The world blurred, and she tasted salt.

His lips broke from hers. “Nyss, are you crying? Why?”

“I … I don’t even know.” She let him dry her eyes with a handkerchief. The Victrola serenaded them in lilting three-quarter time. “Do you remember what you said about your parents? On Christmas, how they would dance?”

His cheeks reddened. “Yes, well, that … that’s not important.”

“It sounded like it was when you said it.” She stroked his soft, dark hair.

“The memory means something. I won’t lie. I would give anything to dance with you right now, but you’re not a miracle worker. I don’t need that to be happy.”

“Yes, but I wanted you to have …” She drew a deep breath. This could hurt him, but he needed to understand all the idiocy she’d put him through. Bracing herself, she blurted out, “Henri is a dance instructor.”

His eyes widened. Her heart pounded painfully. His face contorted, and for a moment she thought he was going to cry, then he burst out laughing. “Of course he is ... Oh Nyss, is that what you’ve been up to?” He kissed her cheek.

“I wanted to give you something you wouldn’t forget, something that meant something. I thought I could learn from a book, but Amara said Henri was the best.”

“Yeah, he’s kind of Amara’s type. I can see that.” He rubbed his forehead. “So you didn’t learn much dancing, I’m guessing?”

“No, but I realized something.” She slipped her hand into his and stood. “We’ve never needed anyone to teach us how to be together. Sure, we’ve stumbled around like naive idiots for most of our relationship, but we’ve somehow always found our own way to do things.” She guided his other hand to her waist then settled her right hand on his shoulder. “I want to dance with you, Ellis. Not Henri. You.”

He gave a wavering laugh. “I’m not sure why, but I’m anxious.”

“Henri and I never got very far with the waltz. He said I couldn’t follow correctly. You, though, you I think I can follow.”

“A moment.” He turned a switch, and his chair adjusted into braces, pushing him into a standing position. His hand caressed her waist, and his fingers interlocked with hers.

Oh, Henri wouldn’t like that. No spinning. She laughed at the memory.

He raised an eyebrow. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, this is perfect.”

He rolled slightly forward, then back. She moved with him. Their motion became a gentle rocking. His hold on her waist tightened. His hand migrated to the middle of her back and drew her against him. She melted against his body, her cheek pressed against his firm chest.

Warmth surrounded her. His heart thrummed in her ear, and her breathing synced with his. Back and forth, their path becoming shorter each time, like a pendulum winding down. Finally they stood still, arms about each other, his hands rubbing up and down her back. Her eyes squeezed shut to everything that wasn’t him.

The pistons in his bracers hissed as his chair returned to being a chair. She reformed with it, finding herself folded onto his lap. His arms surrounded her, his lips caressing her neck and face. It was no longer a dance, but that didn’t matter. She gripped his shirt and pressed her mouth hard against his. A hunger for his touch overwhelmed her, making his embrace seem perfect yet somehow not enough.

“Hey, Nyssa! Ellis!” Theo’s voice echoed up the stairs.

Ellis drew back, his face flushed and his hair ruffled. Nyssa froze.

“Mrs. H wants to know if you’ll be ready for dinner soon!” the boy called.

Ellis scoffed. “Sure she does. She’s probably guessed what we’re doing up here and wants to make certain I’m behaving myself.”

Nyssa stood, feeling oddly lightheaded. Tingles swept up and down her body. She inhaled to steady herself.

“We’ll be down in a minute,” she called to Theo.

“Ah.” Ellis stuck out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.

She held up her hand. “No ring, Mr. Dalhart.”

“Blast, I knew I forgot something.” He chuckled. “Maybe next Christmas?”

A pleasant jolt cut through her, and she nodded. “I think I’d like that.”

“It’s a date, then. Let’s go see if we can help get dinner ready.” With a smile, he wheeled away from her.

Nyssa rubbed her neck, still warm from his kisses. Did I just become engaged to be engaged? Is that even a thing?

Her cheeks ached from a smile she couldn’t control, and her whole being quivered.

“I think I love Christmas.”

The End

Nyssa Glass and the Electric Heart

Copyright © 2016 H. L. Burke

To all my betas, critique partners, and writer buddies.

H. L.

Chapter One

Nyssa Glass switched her goggles to a higher magnification setting and took out her smallest