Fantasyland 01 Wildest Dreams (12 page)

BOOK: Fantasyland 01 Wildest Dreams
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Well, there you go. I already knew something
more about him. His horse was called Tyr.

That was a start.

I went to my trunks and pulled out a cloak I
liked especially. It was a light silvery-gray wool with fur in a
matching color on the high collar. It had matching gloves and hat.
The hat was knit wool at the top, furry around the edges and I’d
noticed it didn’t give me hat head.

I didn’t want hat head. Not that day or,
maybe,
any
day when
Frey was around.

So I got ready to face the chill, nabbed my
basket and then walked to the stables.

When I got there, Frey had Tyr in the middle
of the space, bridle on, saddle on (with a longer, very dark brown
blanket style thing that hung over his rump, probably to help ward
off the cold, something the horse hadn’t worn on our long ride
there). I noticed now that the horse was like everything Frey that
was to say his coat so dark brown it was nearly black. He was also
huge. He was also glossy. He also had extremely intelligent
eyes.

He was lastly beautiful.

I went to the hooks on the wall to get a
bridle for one of the grays and had lifted a hand to nab it when
Frey called from behind me. “What are you doing?”

I dropped my hand and turned to him then
answered, “Preparing a gray to ride.”

“You’ll ride with me.”

I blinked.

Then I asked, “What?”

He stood by his horse for about half a
second then he walked to me, reached low, engulfed my hand in his
then led me to his horse. Before I became unstuck, he’d mounted and
leaned down to hook me around the waist and pull me up in front of
him.

Then he immediately clicked his teeth and
Tyr walked out of the stable. Once clear of the structure, Frey
clicked his teeth again and leaned slightly into me, taking me with
him, chest to back, at the same time his arm moving me back into
him as it tightened around my belly and Tyr took us from walk to a
not fast but definitely not slow canter.

Apparently, Frey Drakkar did not stop and
smell the roses.

“Um…” I started then pointed out, “You just
broke our deal.”

“How?” he asked, his voice sounding in my
ear.

“You just put me on your horse,” I explained
as the forest went passed us and I noticed Frey knew a better, what
appeared to be more direct route because he was now taking it.

“Yes, I did,” he agreed.

“Part of our deal was, you wouldn’t do
that.”


No…
Finnie
,
part of our deal was I wouldn’t
toss
you on a horse. I didn’t toss you on a horse. I pulled you
onto a horse.”

“That’s a technicality,” I declared.

“A what?” he asked.

I didn’t explain, instead I stated, “I think
you knew what I meant.”

“And I think, when you’re making a deal, you
may wish to be more clear in your demands and your expectations,”
he returned.

Well, it could be said he was not wrong.

I made a mental note to do just that.

We rode through the frozen forest and it
didn’t take long for me to come to the understanding that I liked
this better, riding with Frey. I could pay more attention to the
beauty that was around me (even if it was mostly streaming by) and
not where I was going. And he was warm and solid behind me and any
warmth in Lunwyn, I had learned, should not only be made use of but
treasured. It was a lazy way to go but it was definitely the better
way to go.

Hmm.

I decided not to focus on that and instead,
learn about my husband.

Therefore, I set about doing that.

“So,” I began, “uh… where have you been the
last six weeks?”

“At sea,” he answered readily.

My brows went up but I kept my eyes on the
vista before me. “That whole time?”

“That whole time,” he replied then went on,
“or the part of it we weren’t in Middleland.”

I twisted my neck to look at him and got an
eyeful of strong jaw and masculine throat. Attractive strong jaw
and appealing masculine throat.

That was when I looked back forward.

“What were you doing in Middleland?”

“One of my men had an errand to run.”

Interesting.

“What was the errand?” I asked.

Frey did not answer.

Hmm.
Interesting.

“Was your errand successfully run?” I
queried.

“Yes.”

Not informative but at least an answer.

“Um… how many men do you have?”

“Many.”

Again not informative but at least an
answer.

“Are we talking ‘many’ as in ‘more than ten’
or ‘many’ as in ‘more than five hundred’?” I attempted to
clarify.

“Somewhere in between,” Frey clearly didn’t
feel like clarifying.

I was not deterred

“So, are you often at sea?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going back soon?”

I asked this because I wanted to go with him
when he went though I wasn’t going to tell him that then. I just
wanted to know how much time I had to convince him to take me.

He didn’t know this and thus read my
question wrong. I knew this not only from his next words but an arm
that got very tight at my belly.

“I’m just home, wife, and you wish to be rid
of me?”

“That’s not what I meant,” I kinda
semi-wheezed, he heard it and his arm relaxed.

“If not, then tell me what you meant,” he
ordered and I knew I couldn’t say I wanted to go with him, not
yet.

So I said softly, “I’m just trying to get to
know you, Frey. You aren’t a font of information, telling me your
favorite color and pouring forth your heartfelt desires. I didn’t
mean anything except to ask about you.”

“I don’t have a favorite color,” he replied,
“and my desires, at the moment, though I would not describe them as
heartfelt, but felt somewhere else, all revolve around what I shall
do when I first bed my new wife. Would you like to talk about
that?”

Ho boy.

“Um…” I swallowed, “no.”

He shifted then muttered over my head, “I
did not think so.”

Okay, so, that went well. Kind of. I learned
a few things about my husband. Since I did, I decided that I could
take a break and stop talking to Frey.

We made it into town and I refused to think
about the fact that the last time I was here I was carted out of a
pub by my just returned from sea husband. Instead, I acted business
as usual, smiling, waving and calling out greetings to people I
knew. Luckily, they did the same (with glances at Frey, of course,
who did not call out greetings, wave and, I couldn’t see him, but I
was pretty certain he did not smile) and he stopped us outside the
market.

He dismounted then, with hands at my waist,
I came down too.

Then he did something sweet, something
unexpected, something I didn’t think he had in him even after
stoking the fire and saying he liked my pancakes.

His big hand enveloped mine and he walked me
to the market while holding my hand.

Shit. I liked that. That was nice.

Hmm.

We walked in and I called out to Maria, “Hi
Maria! It’s Finnie! I’ve come to get some groceries!”

She was in the back room and yelled in
return, “Greetings, Princess Finnie! I’ll be out in two moments.
We’ve had some green beans come in!”

Freaking cool!

Fresh veg, I had also learned in Lunwyn, was
to be treasured.

Green beans just got jotted on the menu.

“I want some of those!” I yelled.

“They’re yours!” she yelled back.

“This pleases me,” Frey muttered and I
stopped wandering through the store shouting and looked up at
him.

“What?”

He was looking toward the back room but at
my question, his chin dipped down and his active, assessing and,
indeed, pleased-looking brown-green eyes came to me.

“You have your mother’s grace, something I
never noticed before. But you do not have her manner. She is
refined but cold. You…” he looked to the back room then at me, “are
not.”

I wasn’t certain but I
thought
that was nice.

“Thanks,” I whispered, kinda
embarrassed.

He tugged me through the store, continuing
to mutter, “You can teach this to our daughters, if we have
them.”

Oh shit.

Another item for the grocery list: see if
they had a condom section (though I held no high hopes for that).
And another topic for discussion at dinner: birth control (though I
held no high hopes for that either).

Shit.

Frey let my hand go and I started to pile
stuff in my basket making a mental note of what we needed to get at
the butcher and the baker.

Unfortunately while I did this, Frey felt
talkative and with what he felt like talking about, I decided I
preferred him taciturn.

“It is well-known your father, not having a
son, did all the things with you that he would do with his son. He
taught you archery, swordplay and you went hunting with him from
when you were wee. Our daughters will not do these things.”

I clenched my teeth after his declaration,
not wanting to think of “our daughters” which was something I hoped
we didn’t create while I was on my adventure.

I grabbed a jug of golden syrup and decided
to whisper, “Okay.”


It is also well-known that he kept your
mother and you close to his side during all his travels and
business, by land and by sea.
This
, I
will consider doing.”

I looked up at him and froze.

I did this because, first, my Dad in this
world sounded a lot like my Dad in my world. He liked me close and
he never went anywhere without Mom and, most of the time, me. I had
tutors when I was young and I was only not with them when they died
because we’d been around the world and back again so many times,
they decided I needed to have some normalcy in my life and make
some friends and they’d enrolled me in boarding school. Second, I
did this because I was super happy he was already considering
taking me with him.

“Really?” I whispered and his eyes moved
over my face before locking on mine.

“I see this idea pleases you,” he noted.

I nodded.

“Good,” he muttered then looked to Maria who
had walked into the shop from the back room.

I grinned at the nuts.

Then I looked up at him and asked, “Do you
like pecans?”

Frey looked down at me and asked back,
“What?”

“Pecans, nuts. I’m really good at pecan pie
and I’m going to make one for us tonight. But if you don’t –”

He interrupted me. “I like pecans,
Finnie.”

Boy, I liked it when he called me
Finnie.

In fact, I liked that there were things to
like about Frey Drakkar and I was noticing there were a number of
things to like.

Therefore, I grinned at him, “See, we’re
getting to know each other already. This is working out great.”

He didn’t answer verbally. Nope, he
didn’t.

He did better than that.

His eyes dropped to my mouth, his big hand
lifted to cup my jaw and his calloused thumb slid lightly across my
curved lower lip.

This felt good. So good, my belly dipped and
my breasts swelled again.

Yes, his touch could be light. Very light.
And very sweet.

Ho boy.

I noticed his gaze had lifted to my eyes and
then I knew those eyes were hazy from his surprisingly sweet touch
when he bent so his face was close to my own.

“I very much like the curve of your mouth,
wife,” he whispered, the nipples in my swelling breast started
tingling and my body swayed slightly closer to him as if he had
some invisible pull and it was reeling me in. “I also like to watch
it move, to hear it speak words of teasing or jest, or just any
words at all.”

Oh man, that was sweet too.

He got even closer and kept whispering, “I
wonder what else it can do that I will like.”

Now that wasn’t sweet, that was
hot.

“Um…” I mumbled for no reason whatsoever and
when I did, I watched his eyes go sexy lazy at the same time they
smiled.

It was a good look. No, it was
the best
look I’d ever seen. On him
or
any
man.

Uh.

Wow.

I was about to do something, I didn’t know
what, maybe throw myself at him or toss the basket aside and demand
he take me home immediately, strip me naked and do as he pleased
when his thumb slid back across my lower lip and he
straightened.

“Your pecans, wife, my pie,” he murmured, I
blinked then my body jerked and I pulled myself together.

“Right, pecans, pie, uh… dinner,” I muttered
and turned to the nuts thinking maybe this adventure was going to
be a lot better than I ever imagined.

Maybe even beyond my wildest dreams.

* * * * *

I spent the afternoon baking and cooking
(and letting Penelope in and out a gazillion times). Frey spent the
afternoon lugging logs in to replenish the supplies by the fires as
well as reloading the back porch. Then he set about chopping
more.

I was seeing it was good having a husband
around because in my six weeks there, I’d already gone through the
stash on the back porch and spent an hour of back and forth to the
shed restocking it. This meant the supply in the shed was half gone
and I’d been getting worried. To keep warm and cook, you went
through a hell of a lot of wood. I wasn’t looking forward to
another hour of back and forth, my favorite chore wasn’t lugging
wood into the house and I was pretty pleased I’d done well roughing
it but was not hankering to hone my currently nonexistent skill
with an axe by chopping down trees.

With Frey there, I didn’t have to worry
about any of this.

BOOK: Fantasyland 01 Wildest Dreams
7.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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