He was away in an hour.
In an hour he was away.
Without me.
“But… but the Bitter Gales –” I started.
He interrupted me to bite off, “Is there reason for me to escort you to the Gales?”
“Uh…” Oh shit. Think Finnie! “Yes, you… you’re, um… my husband. A husband –”
“I’m not, Sjofn, there are many things I am but one thing I know I am not and that is your husband.”
That hurt, God, it hurt so bad, I had to close my eyes and turn my face away from the anger in his.
And it wasn’t him saying he wasn’t my husband.
It was him calling me Sjofn.
I was not Sjofn. I was Finnie. His wee Finnie. I was not the Sjofn he knew and hated.
I was not.
But I’d asked for that.
Shit. I’d asked for it.
I felt my throat clog as my breaths kept coming fast, my br**sts brushing his chest as they came.
Then I felt the tip of his finger glide along the dense ruffle at the edge of my camisole, light against my skin. Gentle, sweet and unbelievably sexy.
I closed my eyes tighter and my breaths came faster as hope budded at his touch.
Then his finger went away.
I missed it when it was gone and I clenched my eyes tight as the tears rushed up my throat.
“Enjoy your Gales, Sjofn,” he said softly but his tone wasn’t gentle, it was distant and that hurt too. “I’ll see you upon my return.”
He started to move away but I looked at him then and I knew, hells bells, I knew when I opened my eyes there were tears there.
Tears!
From me!
But they were there and I didn’t have it in me to make them go away.
And this was because I really, really did not want him to go away.
My chest still moved, rising and falling rapidly as my mind went blank to everything but the thought of him going. But he not only stopped moving away, he had grown completely still as his eyes stayed riveted to mine and there was no way to stop the one tear that dropped and slid down my cheek. I watched him watch it as it went all the way down, falling from my jaw and landing on my chest.
Then his gaze came back to mine when I decided what I needed to say.
And when I did, I whispered, “I change my mind, Frey. I really don’t like it when you call me Sjofn. Please don’t call me that anymore.”
I barely got out the last word when he was back in my space and one of his arms sliced around the small of my back, the other hand plunged into my hair, fisting and pulling back as well as tilting my head to the side and then his mouth slammed down hard on mine.
Instantly his opened, mine reciprocated and there it was.