Wildest Dreams (Fantasyland #1)(101)

And, at that point, I felt better.

Then I felt his chest expand and contract as he let out a big breath before he whispered, “Thank you, wife.”

With both my arms around him, I gave him a squeeze and whispered back, “Your welcome, husband.”

He held me close for several seconds, I returned the gesture then when his hold loosened slightly, I tipped my head back to see he was looking down at me.

“As you peruse my cabin, try not to move anything so I can’t find it.”

Weird. He so totally knew me.

I laughed softly and nodded. “Okay, I’ll try.”

He grinned at me before he dipped his head and touched his mouth to mine. Then he said quietly, “We need to be away.”

I stared in his beautiful eyes and nodded.

He held my stare a second then let me go.

He was almost at the door when I called his name; he turned and looked at me, waiting.

“What’s your ship called?” I asked.

“The Finnie,” he answered casually and I felt every inch of my body lock.

Then my jaw released so I could ask on a breath, “What?”

Without hesitation, Frey replied, “When I decided you’d be travelling with me, and you demonstrated much excitement for this eventuality, I changed the registers, had her name sanded away, her new one painted on and rechristened her The Finnie.”

Oh.

My.

God.

He did not do that.

I looked at my husband standing patiently but obviously wishing to be away as the realization washed through me that he did do that.

I was stunned, my entire body felt warm, my heart felt light and I knew that quicksand was closing in on my chin.

And I had absolutely no intention of making the slightest effort to pull myself out.

“What was she named before?” I whispered.

“The Skadi,” he answered then, even ready to leave, he took the time to explain. “Ancient lore told that Skadi was brave but it also said that she preferred the mountains. There was a time when she needed to be called Skadi. That time is past for my Finnie makes the most of everywhere she happens to be including, I’m sure I will find, the sea.”

Yes, he so totally knew me.

“I’ll make the most of it,” I promised quietly.

“I know you will, love,” Frey replied quietly then continued just as quietly but also gently, “though, you keep talking, there won’t be anything to make.”

I smiled at him. “We could delay a bit, go out to one of those wharf side pubs, have a drink and I could chat to some doxies.”

He started chuckling and shook his head. “I see this would intrigue you, my wee one, but I must inform you now so when we return you won’t have your heart set on it, you will never be going to those pubs, having a drink and chatting to doxies.”

I grinned at him.

We’d see about that.

I decided not to say that and instead ordered, “Go, navigate your ship, my handsome husband. I have poking around to do and important papers and instruments to misplace.”

He grinned as he walked back to me, cupped my jaw with his hand and again touched his lips to mine, this time harder and longer but not hard or long enough for me.

Then, his fingers drifting gently along my jaw as he released me, Frey smiled into my eyes, turned and walked out of the cabin.

I stared at the door for awhile after he’d gone thinking I was standing on a beautiful ship a beautiful man named after me.

Yes, I was standing on a beautiful ship a beautiful man named after me.

Then I bit my lip but even so, I was biting it while smiling.

Then I turned my attention to poking around and misplacing his papers and instruments.

Chapter Twenty-One

Adela Tea

A week and a half later…

My eyes fluttered open and I saw velvet, I felt weight and warmth except on my leg which was partially exposed and wrapped around a tangle of hides and blankets.

I was in bed in Frey’s cabin and I was alone.

Then I heard papers rustling, I pulled in a soft breath and lifted up on a forearm to look toward the desk.

My handsome husband with a week and a half of beard growth (making him, arguably, more handsome) was sifting through papers on his desk.

“Hey,” I called, his head came up and his green-brown eyes came to me.

Then his face got lazy, that lazy communicated itself to a variety of places in my body, and he said not a word but straightened in his chair and shifted it slightly to the side.

He didn’t have to say a word, I knew what that meant.

I untangled myself from the covers, grabbed my long, soft wool robe that was lying across the bottom of the divan and my cashmere-socked feet hit wood floor. I pulled the robe on over my satin nightgown as I wandered across the cabin to him, tying the belt tight just as I made it to his chair. His arm hooked me around the waist and he gently guided me into his lap.

When I settled, both his arms wrapped around me, his head bent toward mine and he murmured, “I’ll take my morning kiss now, wee Finnie.”

I grinned up at him, placed my hands on the hard wall of his chest and leaned in, tipping my head back, offering him my mouth.

Then he took his morning kiss. This wasn’t the first time he got it with me in his lap in his chair behind his desk in the cabin. Other times he got it when he woke me in his bed when he was still in it. There were a few times he got it when he woke me after coming back from doing something. But there were no other times. He came to me or was with me every morning.