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.”
“Why would I be offended when it is clear my bride cheats?” Frey noted and I whipped my head around to glare at him.
We were in town, currently at the pub, having come into town for Frey to send a messenger off to my parents to tell them we would be heading back and would return to Fyngaard in less than three days time.
He’d also taken me around so I could visit with the people I’d come to know, let them know we were leaving and give them my good-byes. This kind of sucked because good-byes always kind of sucked. But also, since I liked them, they liked me, they were surprised we were going, disappointed I was going and told me they would be glad when we returned, it sucked more because I didn’t know if I would.
Then we’d gone to the pub, eaten a dinner of bowls of thick, rich, tasty beef stroganoff that had an abundance of flavorful, succulent mushrooms and was served on a bed of herbed noodles that was not only delicious but also I was happy I didn’t have to slave away at an iron, wood-burning stove in order to put in front of us.
And now we were drinking ale with Laurel, Ulysses, Frederick and two of Frey’s huge, well-built men, Thaddeus and Ruben. All of these men had wandered in while Frey and I were enjoying an after dinner ale and all of whom had been invited to join us at our table.
Thaddeus was younger than Frey, my guess, by at least five years, maybe more (not that I knew how old Frey was, I figured that was something the other Sjofn would know and I hadn’t figured out how to cleverly ascertain this information without out and out asking). Thaddeus was slightly less tall than Frey and Ruben and powerfully built but he didn’t have the bulk of either man. He had blond hair, blue eyes and was really cute in a boy next door kinda gone wrong sort of way. Ruben was Frey’s age, maybe slightly younger, or perhaps slightly older, I couldn’t really tell (Frey’s natural air of authority was putting me off, he seemed older but looked younger) and he was a mountain of chocolate muscle with friendly, black eyes and an easy grin.
And, to fit us all around the table, considering Frey, Thaddeus and Ruben would have trouble just the three of them fitting their big bulk and long legs around a table, necessitated me sitting in my husband’s lap.