My hands slid up and around his shoulders, the fingers of one hand gliding into his hair, the other arm wrapping tight as I pressed my chest into his and kissed him back.

Yeah, oh yeah, I definitely liked this.

He broke our kiss but didn’t take his lips from me, trailing them down my cheek, they worked my neck and ear, making the skin tingle, making me highly conscious of the power of his body surrounding me, the heat of the water, the slick of our skin, all of it nice, way nice. The best.

Okay, I’d give him third base. Hell, he could slide into home and I knew I’d love every freaking minute of it.

And that was exactly why I turned my mouth to his ear and whispered, “I like being here with you, Frey.”

His arms tightened around me, pressing me deep into his hard body but his head went back and his lazy, heated eyes found mine.

“This pleases me, Finnie,” he replied quietly and I smiled at him, dipping my head closer, he slid his nose along mine something else he did frequently that I put on my why I like him list before I quit making it. Then he again pulled back so I lifted up. One of his hands started roaming my back while the other one slid up my neck to cup my jaw and he went on, “It pleases me but do you not miss your Winter Palace in Fyngaard?”

No. I did not miss my Winter Palace in Fyngaard. Mostly because I had no idea what my Winter Palace was, or what Fyngaard was for that matter though, truth be told, I was intrigued but nowhere on his earth or mine at that moment would be better than those springs in that frozen forest with Frey.

“I –”

His thumb swept my cheek. “And your parents?”

I stared down at him as my heart jumped.

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“I do miss my parents,” I whispered the God’s honest truth and watched his eyes go soft.

“As you know, the Bitter Gales is in two weeks time. What you don’t know is I have business I must see to after that. Today, you spend packing your trunks, I’ll load them and tomorrow morning, first thing, we’ll be away. You can spend two weeks at the Winter Palace with your parents, we’ll attend the Gales and then I’ll show you my ship.”

My heart jumped again then it started skipping.

The Winter Palace, the Bitter Gales (whatever that was but whatever it was sounded cool), my parents and his ship.

I’d just hit the mother lode!

Or, more accurately, my husband just offered it to me.

“Really?” I asked.

“Really, my wee Finnie,” he whispered, his arm wrapping around me and giving me a squeeze.

Then something he said struck me and I felt my excitement start to fade. “You said I could spend two weeks with my parents. Are you going away again before the Gales?”

He stared into my eyes, his soft and warm, and his thumb slid over my bottom lip, “No, wee one; I’ll be staying with you at your Palace.”

My heart started skipping again and it was definitely not playing it cool, not that a girl, no matter how good she could play it, could ever play it cool, naked, straddling a na**d man in a hot springs, but, still, I couldn’t contain my smile.

My husband smiled back and that was so good, I decided that playing it cool was for idiots.

Then it occurred to me that he was probably talking about wherever it was we’d been married which meant I’d probably get to go back to that awesome room with all the beautiful carving and that armchair I wanted to try out. And if it was a Palace, it had to have a library which meant more books and more learning about this world. Not to mention, a new town (and a definitely bigger one) to explore.

And lastly, seeing my parents again.

And all of this made me melt into my big, handsome, so-not-scary-it-was-not-funny husband and whisper, “Thank you, Frey.”

His hand at my jaw slid back and up into my hair and he pulled my mouth down to his for a hard, sweet, deep, but short, kiss.

Only when he let me go did he whisper back, “You’re welcome, Finnie.”

Oh yeah, it was official. I liked him. A whole lot.

“Now climb off me, wife, soap up and dry off so I can do the same, we can get back and you can pack. The sooner you get done, the sooner we can get to town so you can bid farewell to your friends.”

Okay, one could say even though I was relaxed and happy, pressed na**d to my na**d husband, I wasn’t all fired up to “soap up” in front of him.

But the minute I slid off his lap, whispering, “All righty then,” his body slid down deeper in the water and he lounged back against the rocks at the same time lifting the bathing cloth so it covered his face.

He looked like a man relaxing in a hot spring. Or, to be more precise, a really freaking gorgeous guy relaxing in a hot spring.

But what he was was a kind man giving me privacy to bathe when he knew it would embarrass me to have him watch.

Yeah, oh heck yeah, I really liked my husband.

I soaped up and told him I was done by pressing the cake to his chest. He took it, his head coming up as he pulled the bathing cloth away. Then he turned his back and he soaped up while I rushed out of the water, drying off quickly and getting dressed.

I heard the water surge as he got out when I was smoothing my woolen stockings up my thighs. I had my boots on and was turning to him when he tossed the wet towel over his sweater-clad shoulder and I saw he was fully dressed.

He gave me a sweet smile, hooked me around my neck and pulled me into his side so I slid my arm around his waist and moved with him as I stayed pressed to his long body.

And that was how we walked home through the glittering, frozen forest.

We didn’t say anything, we didn’t need to and our silence was content.

But I wasn’t content.

No, I was happy in my winter wonderland adventure where you could understand animals and they had elves and hot guys who were awesome and I was on my way back to my Winter Palace, Fyngaard and, best of all, my parents, then after that to his ship and even more adventure.

And my hot guy husband was the one who was giving all that to me.

Oh yeah, in Valentine’s line of happiness from bliss to contentment I was not even close to the contentment side of the line.

I was smack in the middle of happy.

Chapter Eleven

The Measure of a Man

I leaned forward, grinning, and pulled the pile of coin to me. Then I settled myself back in my husband’s lap, grabbed my horn of ale and took a big drink.

“I’m certain our Winter Princess deals from the bottom of the deck,” Laurel grumbled then his eyes shot around me to Frey who was one-handing the cards, his long fingers expertly sorting them into a pile while his other arm stayed wrapped around me and Laurel clarified hurriedly, “No offense, Drakkar.”




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