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She bit her lip. “Relaxed and tense all at the same time.”
The lights came back on, and she flinched. He grunted as her flinch had been general and not localized.
“So, that wasn’t you.” She buried her face against his neck.
“No, I would never dim my view of you, but I am glad that it did happen if that was what dislodged your memory. What was it, exactly, that made you remember?”
She kissed his neck and followed a snowflake until it got away. “Your hand swinging the stew over the fire. It was the same motion you used when you made me a cup of tea that first day.”
He chuckled. “I am very glad that I was a good host, then.”
She leaned back as he continued to move her. “So am I. I have no idea what else would have jogged my memory, but you might have gotten slapped before any progress was made.”
He grinned. “I can take a hit.”
She patted his jaw. “But why would I want to mar such a pretty face.”
“You are going to have to stop doing that.”
She frowned. “What?”
“Complimenting me. It will go to my head. You are lovely as well.”
She chuckled. “I know what I look like, but women always get the compliments. I thought it was a while since you heard a compliment, and it makes you blush, so I think it’s adorable.”
“You give your affection so easily.”
She stroked his cheek. “I really don’t. I have finally found a worthy recipient of my affections. If you prefer, I can cease—” She shivered hard as another wave of release rippled through her. “—being affectionate.”
He blinked. “No, I like it. I have just spent a long time alone, and when I was involved with women, the rules were different.”
“I know. The parents exchanged children, everything was for alliances, and love was something that you did after marriage, with whomever you fancied.”
He grinned. “Were you there?”
A strange voice said, “Sort of. Her ancestor was.”
She was bound to Voronwe for a moment. She looked behind her, and a man came to sit on the edge of the couch.
She looked into his eyes and gasped. “You are the guy from the antique shop!”
“Excellent. No damage from the transition between realms. Greetings, Ellora Riskin. You are looking well.”
Voronwe murmured. “Ellora, move.”
She muttered. “I can’t. My arms are locked, and so is the rest of me. I can only move my head.”
The man shrugged. “I took control of her. She hasn’t come into herself yet, so it is easier for me to hold her fixed and keep you from punching me, Your Highness.”
“Puck, why are you here?”
“I was just going to help jog her memory if it hadn’t come loose yet, but it seems you have managed to loosen up a number of things. Well done, Your Highness.”
“Puck, like the depiction of the imp from Shakespeare?” She looked at him.
He bowed from the seated position on the arm of the couch. “The very same. I am toiling endlessly to bring a little more magic into the world.”
She paused. “You said I would come into myself.”
Voronwe frowned. “Why did you say that, Puck?”
“Ah, Your Highness, the ladies that were chosen. The women that are in play. They are all descended from our kind. They take to it. Magic doesn’t phase them; we don’t scare them. A little practice, and they can see through glamours. Madame Riskin here is descended from one of my family. Alba Riskin was her great-fourteen-times grandmother. She met and married a mortal, moved to the mortal realm, and had a vast array of children until she passed with her husband. It is so nice to see that her eyes and hair are still carried on. The rest of you bears more than a passing resemblance.”
She blinked. “Okay. Sure. Why not?”
Puck laughed. “Well, one day, you and his highness are going to have a stream of little people to help build the magic back between the worlds.”
Voronwe growled. “It will not happen because you wish it, Puck. It is difficult for our kind to have children.”
She tapped his shoulder to hush him up.
He turned and looked at her. “What is it?”
Puck clapped his hands. Swooped in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Excellent work, kinswoman. I will leave you to explain it.”
Puck was gone, and she was free. She slumped against her lover at that moment. “Uh, I am pretty sure that I am pregnant.”
He stared at her then carefully lifted her off his body and set her on the couch. He laid her back and pressed his hand over her belly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t put everything together until Puck was going on about the next generation. That is when it hit me that I was susceptible when I was in the castle, and we engaged in the precise ritual for the creation of a baby, and then, I was back and forgot everything. The weird thing is that people at work have been asking me all week.”
“Asking you what?” There was a cool tingle under his hand, and he blinked in surprise. “Something is happening in there.”
“Yeah, it should be smaller than a speck of cracked pepper, but it has corkscrewed its way into the uterus wall by now. That hurts, by the way. Just if you ever want to put it in a book.”
He stared at her. “So, you are really...”
“Probably. If you are able to sense it... it is likely. I will have the doctor do the test next week.” She chuckled. “I already have the appointment.”
He was staring at her, and his hand was slowly caressing her skin.
“Um, can I sit up now?”
He scooped her up and pulled her across his lap, cuddling her.
“You know, before tonight, I was perfectly capable of moving around on a couch under my own power.” She chuckled and ignored the sticky feeling that had caused all the trouble.
“Just let me have my moment to adapt to the idea of more than you immediately.”
Elly laughed. “Yeah, well, I have a few more months before there is more than me. At least, I get to stop putting my vibrator in the freezer. A friend came over for coffee, and I had forgotten that it was in there.”
He tensed. “What?”
She laughed and explained about the craving for cold and how all-consuming it had become.
They ate the stew, the focaccia, and she felt a little less conspicuous wearing one of his shirts. He had hidden her clothes for the evening. With the power on, she had been able to take a quick shower and reduce the conspicuous feeling when she tried to walk.
The next day was Saturday, and he was going to drive her home. Probably.
Chapter Eight
She felt a light kiss on her lips as she woke, and she reciprocated before she realized that morning breath was definitely a thing. She squeaked and jerked back.
Voronwe was concerned. “Is something wrong?”
“I need to brush my teeth.” She tried to roll away, but she was trapped.
“No, you don’t. You are perfect just as you are.” He grinned.
She shoved at him. “Tough. My paranoia, my business. We can’t all taste like fucking mint all the time.”
He rolled to the side and laughed as she stalked to the ensuite. She brushed her teeth, combed the psycho out of her hair, and returned to bed. Her winter king was lying back, making notes on a tablet. She chuckled. “If I see any of this in a recognizable way in any book in the future, you are going to face my wrath.”
Voronwe smiled. “It is such a lovely source of inspiration. I look forward to being inspired by you for decades to come in this realm, and eons in the other.”
She sighed and climbed back into bed, curling against him when he extended his arm to her. “So, you are taking me home today?”
He nodded. “That was the plan.”
She paused. “Was?”
He smiled. “I thought we could try and do some more recording. I am really enjoying
the effect of our voices together.”
She looked and saw the pod in his pointed ear. “Huh. I would have pegged you for a wired kinda guy.”
“I have been schooled on tech so that I don’t make any ridiculous mistakes.” He flicked the tablet, and she heard her own voice reading the scene and his rumbling over it with a husky tone.
Elly squirmed around and got on her knees, licking lightly at the tip of his ear. He paused the recording, and she continued sucking before backing up. He pressed his hand to her back in a silent plea. She toyed with him for a few more minutes. The hard tent with the damp spot on the sheet let her know that it wasn’t a coincidence.
She grazed her teeth across the point of his ear and leaned back. “You know, if I was on the other side, I could reach the other one.” He set the tablet down and lifted her up and over. She began again on the other ear. She was halfway through sucking the point when he groaned and shuddered. She slowly drew her tongue along the edge and left him with a soft kiss to his ear.
She slid out of bed and walked around, tucking herself back under his arm with her head against his chest. It might be another wet spot in the sheets, but she didn’t have to deal with that one. She dozed off again.
* * * *
He looked down at the peacefully sleeping whirlwind that had just taken over his life. She touched and caressed him because she wanted to, not because she was trying to wheedle something out of him. She was one-in-billions, and Puck had found her for him.
So, what should he do next? He would ask her for marriage; that much was certain. If she did, she did; if she didn’t, he would have to find other ways to legally tie them together. A handfasting was certain. That would happen before he took her back to the city.
He ran his fingers through her hair and smiled. He remembered Alba. She had huge hazel eyes and a shy disposition. Her family had been trying to find her a match, but she had already given her heart. She had simply disappeared one day, and her family ceased speaking of her. She left the fey court and was never seen again.
Voronwe looked at Ellora’s dark lashes. Alba had made beautiful grandchildren, and he was blessed to have found one. The odds of her having the name Riskin after all these years was unusual, but stranger things had happened. He would ask her about that when she woke.
Huh. A child. All that time alone and the thought of a child had never entered his thoughts, but now he was glowing from within. Ellora’s child. Voronwe groaned as his cock sprang to alertness again.
She shifted against his side. “Something wrong?”
He smoothed a hand through her hair. “No. Just working some stuff out. Everything is wonderful.”
She nodded, pressed a kiss to his chest, and nodded off again.
He exhaled slowly. She was so calm—none of the flickers of anxiety he had been used to in mortals before this moment. There had been a few seconds of conflict, but she had explained, or he had explained, and they had moved on. She didn’t play games unless they were short, fun, and they could both win.
So, he would propose, move on to handfasting, and then work toward a wedding before the baby was noticeable. Even in modern times, that was a common theme.
* * * *
When she woke from her doze, she thought she was back in Underhill. The room was lined with boxes and trays and swathes of fabric. There were enough jewels to drown a horse.
Voronwe was working at a desk in the corner, and he turned around in full fey court garb.
Elly blinked at the gleam, sparkle, and excellent fit. She looked down, and she was wearing a medieval gown made of millions of interlocking snowflakes. “Oh. What happened while I was out?”
“I made a few decisions. Will you stand?”
She swung her feet out of bed and snickered at the high heels that didn’t have any place with the outfit. She stood, and he held her hands. “Ellora Riskin, will you marry me?”
She sighed and looked up at him, his earnest face and cold blue eyes. “Yes. I will. But why did you bring all the shiny stuff here?”
He grinned. “It’s my dowry. It is how I offer myself and my upkeep to you. All writers should come with something similar.”
She giggled. “On that, I agree. So, why the fancy dress?”
He gave her a knowing look. “I wanted to make sure that there was no hint of seduction to acquiescence in this proposal. I am dressed, you are dressed, and we are standing.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You, in this outfit, is very seductive.”
“Ah, we should go for a walk outside then. I am much less seductive in icy winds.” He kissed the back of her hand, the palm of her hand, and the inside of her wrist.
She shivered and leaned toward him, her lips parted. He turned and led her out, down the hall, and out of the main door.
She looked around, and the snowbanks had been mounded into sculptures from Underhill; the path led to an archway made of glittering huge snowflakes. “Oh, wow.”
She stepped forward and turned on the path to see everything. It was a sculpture garden in her favourite medium. He was watching her with a slight smile as she whirled and turned in admiration at his efforts.
Elly walked up to him and pulled him down for a kiss. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”
He exhaled slowly. “I am very glad. I have one request for you.”
She looked up at him from her position plastered against him. “What would you like?”
“Stand under the archway and pledge yourself to me, and I will do the same.”
“So, handfasting.”
He smiled. “I do forget that you read a lot.”
“For a living. Right. Yes.”
“Are you sure? This is more binding than the legal strictures we will do later.”
Elly squeezed him. “I am sure. I am also good with a courthouse wedding. I don’t need to waste time or money frustrating the hell out of myself and living with months of insecurity.”
He grinned. “We are still going to have a wedding, but I will work on planning it. Since you left me, I have gotten in touch with a lot of local fey. They will help with the wedding. They love weddings.”
She smiled. “Right, so what do we do now?”
He pried her off him, set her beside him, and they stood facing each other under the arch of ice crystals. He looked at her, and she fell into his eyes. He spoke to her, and the words reverberated in her soul. She repeated the words back, and a silver and red ribbon descended from the sky, wrapping around her hands and his. He leaned in to kiss her, and the cool tingle on her hands was proof that something had happened, and the small bracelets on her wrists jingled with tiny bells. To her amazement, he was wearing the same thin bracelets.
They smiled and kissed again, and then, they both giggled.
She touched his cheek and kissed him again. “Interesting morning, Winter King.”
He grinned and stroked her cheek. “Delightful morning, Winter Queen.”
He caught her as that realization hit her, and he carried her back inside the house for a proper and lengthy celebration. After that, breakfast.
She had been home to get some clothing for twenty minutes before there was a knock at her door.
Two men in moving-company livery nodded politely and said, “A Mr. Winter has asked that we help you pack and deliver your possessions to this address.”
She looked at the manifest, and her finger brushed against that of the moving man. “He said he was sending some... one...” She had heard of giants but didn’t think she was ever going to see one. The light touch on the man’s hand, and she saw beyond the glamour. “Right. I am going to be working in the bedroom. My quilting machine is my pride and joy, so please be careful.”
He looked at her with slate grey eyes. “You can see us?”
She looked all the way up to the seven and a half feet of him that barely fit in her house. “I am sorry about the ceiling?”
She moved her hand, and he saw
the bracelets. “Your Highness, it isn’t appropriate for you to pack your own things.”
She snorted and waved him in. “It wasn’t appropriate for me to tell him to keep his dick in his pants, but I managed to get out of there in one piece, with a few bites missing.”
The giants came in with boxes, tape, and astonished faces. “You told the winter king...”
She called out from the bedroom. “Someone had to, and no one else was in the bedroom at the time.”
She grabbed her underwear and stuffed it in her luggage, socks, jeans, her sweater collection, and then her office clothing. She got a duffle and threw her dirty laundry into it, planning on doing a load when she got back to the farmhouse.
She had her clothing packed and started to haul her quilts down from the closet shelves when she heard heavy footfalls from the hallway.
She looked, and Voronwe was there, barely clearing the doorframe.
He smiled. “Are you ready?”
Elly exhaled. “We have only been apart for an hour, and I just packed up a lot of clothing.”
“Good thing, we have a lot of room.” He smiled and walked past her, touching the cool blue quilt that had been quilted with snowflakes. “You really do like winter.”
She snorted. “What was your first clue? Or your second or third?” She put the duffle bag strap over her shoulder and grabbed her first suitcase, popping the handle. She grabbed the second and did the same, putting them back-to-back.
He looked down in surprise. “Is this it?”
She grinned. “My clothing collection is modest; my crafting collection is extreme.”
There was a scrape outside the window, and she saw someone in another set of coveralls. “What is that?”
“Security. Since your home will be unoccupied most of the time, it is easier to be able to see what is going on from a distance.” He smiled. “I do love the technology of this age. There seems to be an app for everything.”
Chapter Nine
Saturday was for moving, Sunday was unpacking, and on Monday, he showed her the link between his home and hers in the city so she would have a short commute.