Wildest Dreams

Chapter Thirteen

The Drakkar Will Rise

“I do not believe this,” King Atticus whispered to the night-filled window and Frey Drakkar turned his eyes from his king’s openly ravaged expression to look at his queen.

Queen Aurora had her gaze averted from Drakkar’s shrewd eyes, her expression hidden but what he could see of her face, it was carefully blank.

Neither reaction to their daughter’s grave actions was a surprise.

King Atticus didn’t often hide his emotions. He did not need to. He was king and those around him catered to his whims.

Queen Aurora was another story.

Atticus turned from the window, his openly wounded eyes finding Drakkar’s and he whispered, “This is… this is… this travel to another world… it is… it’s akin to –”

“Treason,” Aurora finished for her husband, her voice cold, emotionless and Atticus turned to his wife.

“Aurora, my love –”

She cut him off. “I told you, time and again, Atticus, I told you not to raise our girl as,” she leaned toward her husband, “a boy.”

Atticus’s jaw got tight. “I did not raise her as a boy. She simply enjoys those things, it’s her nature, and she enjoys being with her father doing them. But even so, that has nothing to do with it and you know it.”

“It doesn’t?” Aurora shot back and crossed her arms on her chest, turning fully to face her husband. “You always wanted a son. Always. And not having one, all her life she’s been taught as you would have taught a son, a future king. And that is to be headstrong and do whatever she can to get her own way, when, of course, she doesn’t naturally expect her own way. These, my love, are not traits of a girl. These are most assuredly the traits of a boy.”

“Aurora –” Atticus started, color rising in his face as his anger did the same but Drakkar was done.

“Does your conversation, at this point, have any meaning?” he asked and his king and queen turned eyes to him. “Princess Sjofn has done it and in so doing she betrayed her parents, which means she betrayed her king, queen and country, the House of Wilde and she betrayed me. I’m sure we’re all agreed that this action is unforgiveable.”

Both king and queen stared at him and Drakkar was surprised to see the flash of pain in his king’s eyes was mirrored, though hidden far more quickly, in his queen’s.

They loved their daughter. Although everyone knew this to be true of Atticus, that flash in Aurora’s eyes and the fact she had not been able to hide it meant she, too, cared deeply for her girl.

Atticus lifted his chin to Drakkar in assent. Aurora’s eyes drifted to the floor, her way to show she, too, agreed.

Drakkar went on. “There is more.”

Aurora’s eyes moved back to him. Atticus moved closer to his wife and stood beside her in front of his desk. Once there, he leaned into a hand.

“More?” Atticus prompted.

Drakkar nodded. “I have had a message from the elves.”

Both husband and wife’s gazes grew sharper and the tension in the room, already wound tight, stretched taut.

“I assume they are even less happy you’ve wed a Sjofn from another world,” Atticus guessed wrongly and Drakkar knew his king was concerned about the elves being troubled or, worse, angered by this occurrence. This could mean another century of retreat.

And they most definitely did not want the elves, again, to retreat.

Not now.

Not with a Frey and The Drakkar both embodied in one man and what that occurrence might mean for Lunwyn.

Atticus knew, for Drakkar had used it on numerous occasions to refuse the arranged marriage with Atticus’s daughter, that the elves were against the match. And he was not wrong to assume they would be violently opposed to his union to a soul from another world.

“On the contrary,” Drakkar stated, “they are well-pleased.”

Atticus blinked. Aurora’s gaze grew even more intense.

“Well-pleased?” she asked quietly.

“The elves told me the Sjofn upstairs is my true Ice Bride. They were against the match to your daughter but they are delighted I am bound to her twin. Apparently, Keer’s wishes for me have come true through my Finnie. She is my destiny.”

“By the gods, man, how can that be?” Atticus asked incredulously. “She isn’t even of our world.”

“She carries the blood of the elves, as do I,” Drakkar informed him. “They are the elves of her world but she inherits her eyes and hair from those of that realm. Because of this, we will mate, create a child and fulfill Keer’s demands that the blood of the elves and the blood of the dragon unite and sit yet again on Lunwyn’s throne throughout eternity.”

“This is… this is… shocking,” Atticus breathed.

“This is destiny,” Drakkar returned.

“So, clearly, it was destiny for our Sjofn to make her decision and then take her action,” Aurora put in smoothly, as she often did in an attempt to soften the circumstances her daughter’s actions caused and Drakkar looked to her.

“She had no idea her leaving would be to the will of the gods,” Drakkar retorted. “She had no thought for anyone but herself. She also did not explain to my Finnie why she was leaving or what Finnie would be facing the very moment of her arrival. As I told you, the switch was accomplished right before she left this Palace to ride to the Dwelling of the Gods to be bound to me. Sjofn orchestrated it that way, throwing my Finnie into what I know was a frightening situation for, not knowing who she was, I behaved in ways that terrified her but Sjofn would take as a matter of course. I know this because Finnie admitted this to me.”

Aurora pressed her lips together and Atticus was smart enough not to speak at all.

“The gods will has been done but it is not Sjofn of the House of Wilde who assisted in seeing destiny fulfilled,” Drakkar stated firmly and Aurora pulled in a delicate breath. Drakkar continued, “And it is partly for that reason that I’ve commanded the elves to bind my Finnie to this world which, in turn, binds your Sjofn to the other. Neither will return to their home world, not again. And this command is everlasting.”

Aurora shifted, her arms uncrossing so she could lay her hand palm flat on the desk, a casual stance that many would misread as thus but Drakkar did not. There was nothing casual about it. She did it to hold herself up in her sudden grief for her lost daughter.

Atticus did not hide his reaction. He flinched and his face paled.

Drakkar felt for them but he did not feel much. This was because Sjofn’s actions were, indeed, reprehensible as treason always is. This was also because Sjofn was what they created as any child always is. And lastly, this was because he was still enraged at what their daughter had done to Finnie.

“Everlasting?” Atticus whispered.

“The elves explained that to bind Finnie here, Sjofn would need to remain there, never to come back and Finnie never to go home. This is my decision; it is made to fulfill my destiny and that of Lunwyn. It is also made to punish Sjofn for her treachery,” Drakkar declared.

“We’ll never see her again?” Atticus asked quietly.

“Never again,” Drakkar confirmed.

Husband and wife glanced at each other then they looked to The Drakkar. This time, both were smart enough to stay silent on the subject for the decision of a Frey which led to his command of the elves was never questioned.

But Aurora did speak.

“Your Finnie,” she said softly, “she pleases you?”

“Indeed,” Drakkar again confirmed.

Atticus looked to the ceiling then to The Drakkar before he asked quietly, “What is…” he hesitated, “your Finnie like?”

“Nothing like your daughter,” Drakkar replied, Atticus winced and Aurora pressed her lips together. Drakkar carried on. “She is soft. She is sweet. She smiles often, talks more and never has anything to say that isn’t interesting. She teases and she jokes and she is good at both. She is an excellent cook and has a strong spirit. People fall easily into her life and like being there. And she enjoys living, immensely, and does not hide it.”

“You care for her already,” Atticus observed.

“It would be difficult not to but I wouldn’t know for I have not tried,” Drakkar replied.

Atticus’s lips twitched and his eyes lit but Aurora’s expression stayed closed.

“I am The Drakkar and you both know what that means,” Drakkar said quietly. “But I cannot command your emotions. However, I urge you to find it in your hearts, even as you grieve the deeds and the loss of your daughter, to open them to Finnie. Sjofn escaped this world for selfish reasons. Finnie sought it for entirely different ones.”

“And will you share those?” Aurora asked instantly.

Drakkar answered just as instantly. “Her parents, your twins in her world, died when she was young.”

“Gods,” Atticus breathed, his torso rocking back and even Aurora’s back straightened slightly.

Drakkar nodded. “She grieves them still. She misses them. The elves told me she paid great treasure and we all know she took grave risks simply in order to see them or…” he paused then stressed, “you again.”

This moved them both. Drakkar knew it because Aurora turned her face away to hide her expression and Atticus dropped his eyes to look at his boots in an effort to do the same.

Drakkar kept talking. “She enjoyed her time with me at my hunting cabin and would have been happy to stay there, this I know. But upon offering the opportunity to spend time with you, she was eager to leave a place she liked and a village where she had made friends. Nevertheless, she carries great anxiety about seeing you. I can only assume, not knowing she was who she is, and being impatient with your daughter, you may have acted on this with Finnie in the brief time she was in your company and this is what causes her unease. But if you cannot find it in your heart to let her in, then I request you at least find it in your heart to show her kindness. She paid dearly and risked much simply to spend time with you. I wish for her to have this and to enjoy it and would look upon it favorably if you do.”

Atticus immediately inclined his head. Aurora slowly turned hers to face him again and she regally lifted her chin.

“I will go on to share something else I know to be true. That is, if you do open your hearts to her, she will reward you,” Drakkar stated quietly and saw Atticus’s jaw clench before he again inclined his head. Aurora nodded once. Drakkar nodded back and then continued, “There is more you need to know.”

Atticus pulled in a breath. Aurora patiently waited.

Drakkar went on. “She does not know I know she is not of this world. And she will not know until I tell her. You will keep this secret and behave as if she is Sjofn of the House of Wilde, however, obviously, you will naturally adapt your behavior to her as she earns your regard.”

Drakkar accepted his king and queen’s keen gazes as his mind moved to his request for this was something that had started to concern him.

At first, he did not share his knowledge of her coming from another world with Finnie because he was still adjusting to it himself. Then he found her consistent blunders endearing, her cover ups even more so and her reactions to things that surprised her deeply amusing. He enjoyed them all… greatly. Too greatly. Time had passed, not much, but enough that it had gone beyond when he should have shared he held this knowledge. Now, it seemed uncomfortably like he was keeping something from her, a secret that was important, so important, keeping it from her was a lie.

However, she’d just the night before witnessed him and Thad taking lives, she had not reacted to that well and took the news of her life being in danger even worse. With the additional anxiety she carried at again spending time with her parents, it was now not the time to discuss the knowledge he held about her.

But he knew he must find the time to do it and the words to explain why he didn’t do it earlier.

And he must do it soon.

“I don’t understand,” Atticus called Drakkar’s attention to him, “why –?”

“An attempt was made on her life, Atticus,” Drakkar explained. “She is not, to my knowledge, a princess in her world and from observing her closely, seeing her immensely friendly demeanor with others, this bears true unless royalty is vastly different in her world. She has never had, nor foiled, an assassination attempt on her life. She has not ever seen a life taken and in one night, she saw three. She reacted to this negatively and this reaction was fierce. She is not your daughter, she does not hunt, she has not been trained in swordplay, knives or archery. From what I understand from her speech, behavior and reactions to things, her world is infinitely different from ours. For instance, animals do not speak to humans.”

Both Atticus and Aurora’s eyes widened in surprise at this unusual news but Drakkar carried on.

“She is getting used to a great deal, in fact, with the frequency things surprise her, it would seem nearly everything around her is new or unusual. After she settles and hopefully after we uncover who is behind the plot to take her life, and, it would seem, mine, for the first two assassins targeted me, I will speak to her about what we know of where she comes from and I will explain to her that she will be staying in this world with us without return.”

The king nodded then stated, “It is good you mention the plot, Drakkar, for we need to discuss it. Your...” he again hesitated before again trying out the name, “Finnie may be from another world but in this world she is my daughter. And her life has been targeted twice.”

“Yes,” Drakkar agreed unnecessarily and impatiently to a statement he very well knew.

“Obviously, I do not like this no matter who she is. My realm is in the balance,” Atticus pointed out.

“And my wife’s life, Atticus,” Drakkar returned, Atticus glanced at his queen but she did not return her husband’s look. Aurora’s gaze stayed steady on Drakkar.

“True,” Atticus agreed after he looked back at Drakkar. “So what have you learned and what has been done?”

Drakkar answered swiftly, “Ruben interrogated the man he captured last night. The man who hired him is Lunwynian.” Drakkar watched both king and queen’s faces get tight at the news the conspirator was a citizen not a foreigner but he kept speaking. “I have sent Quincy and Balthazar to find him. They will make short work of that, as you know. Once found, he will be brought before us.” Atticus nodded and Drakkar continued speaking. “In the meantime, those of my men who do not have to stay to see to my ships will come to Fyngaard. I assume you increased the guard at the Palace as I asked?”

“Of course,” Atticus crossed his arms on his chest and leaned against his desk, “it is doubled.”

“Excellent,” Drakkar muttered then went on. “My men will stay in Fyngaard to increase the watch on Finnie. She does not leave this Palace, not even to wander the grounds, unless she is in my presence or she has at least four of your guard and four of my men with her directly as well as scouting for danger that may be around her.”

“That seems excessive,” Aurora put in then threw out a graceful hand in a way that was uncannily like Finnie. “This is Fyngaard.”

“And it was on the steps of this Palace in which we now stand where the assassin was felled by your daughter’s dagger, was it not?” Drakkar returned and he saw Aurora’s teeth clench.

Atticus butted in. “This is true, Drakkar, but the Fyngaardians are sophisticated and cultured. A doubling of the king’s guard and the men of The Drakkar wandering the city will cause unease. They are unused to this. Especially if their Winter Princess wanders her city under heavy guard. Normally, she wanders it freely and her guard, as it didn’t need to be,” he stated this unable to hide his pride, “was never heavy.”

“They can have the guard, my men and a secure princess or they can have Baldur’s rule,” Drakkar clipped. “Which do you think they would choose?”

Atticus closed his mouth.

Drakkar continued and when he did, his voice was low. “I will remind you of what I am sure you will never forget. Finnie is not Sjofn. She has not, from a very young age, participated in the hunt. She has not felled numerous deer and other wild animals. Indeed, the sight of a dead deer made her visibly retch. She does not carry a dagger on her person at all times and if she did, she would have no idea how to use it. Your daughter proved she could defend her person and her guard understood even before she proved it that, in such an event, she could handle herself.” He paused to drive his point home. “My Finnie cannot.”

“We understand, Drakkar,” Atticus replied, his voice low as well but his was placating.

Drakkar swept his gaze through Aurora before he locked his eyes on his king.

Then he said what he had called them both there to hear, what they both needed to understand and what they both needed to repeat into the right ears until the words swept Lunwyn and, indeed, the entirety of the Northlands.

“Indeed, I believe you do but you must now understand this. I have vowed to my Finnie that nothing will harm her, nothing will even touch her, and that I will keep myself from harm.” He bent at the waist taking himself forward two inches toward his king when he finished, “If she comes to any harm, if she is even touched, I will command it instantly and the drakkar will rise.”

Even Aurora pulled in an audible breath as Atticus’s eyes grew wide and his face again paled.

“Drakkar –” Atticus started, his tone now downright soothing but Drakkar shook his head.

“I will call the dragon, Atticus, I vow to you, I will call them all. They will sweep this land at my command and I’ll have your throne. You know I do not wish it but I will take it and the fire of my dragons will melt every flake of snow and every sheet of ice across this land and with it everything in their path and they will do this as my vengeance for any harm coming to Finnie. If you do not do all in your power to see that my wife is safe, regardless she is no longer a daughter who has your blood in her veins which means a child without your blood will eventually sit on your throne, I will call the dragon. I will not delay. I vow this to you.”

“You are heard, Drakkar,” Atticus whispered.

“Be certain the right people hear it too,” Drakkar replied.

Atticus nodded.

Drakkar’s eyes moved to Aurora and she was observing him closely but did so giving nothing away.

But he knew she heard him too. Aurora always heard. Aurora made an art of listening.

He straightened and nodded to his sovereigns by name but not by right then turned to go, muttering, “We are done. I’m away to bathe and then get to my bride.”

He’d almost gained the door when Aurora called his name.

He turned and caught her eyes.

“Your…” she too hesitated before she said softly, “Finnie. How did her parents die?”

“I do not know,” Drakkar replied. “The elves did not tell me.”

She nodded and he started to turn again when she again called his name so he stopped and raised impatient brows to her.

“She came to…” another pause then a very soft, “a whole other world just to…” she pulled in a slight breath, “see them?”

“Indeed,” Drakkar answered. “And in doing so, to see you,” he clarified.

Aurora held his eyes.

Then she observed quietly, “She must have loved them very much.”

“No,” Drakkar stated. “In the last days as I told her of you, any mention, even in passing, of your names, her eyes would light, her cheeks would pink with excitement, her attention, always avid, would grow intense. She did not love her parents very much, my queen. They were her world. And she journeyed from that world to have them back. That is something beyond love but I don’t know what it is. What I do know is that they must have been remarkable to deserve that devotion.”

Aurora held his eyes and as she did she gave him something she’d never given him nor had he ever seen her give anyone else, even her husband.

She visibly showed vulnerability.

Drakkar watched Queen Aurora pull her lips between her teeth as her eyes got bright with unshed tears. Then she released her lips and swallowed, blinking and the brightness in her eyes disappeared.

Then she said quietly, “I look forward to knowing your Finnie, Drakkar.”

“I can assure you, you do,” Drakkar replied quietly back, dipped his chin to her and to his king then he walked out of the room.

* * * * *

Bathed and dressed for dinner, Frey moved down the hall to the door of the rooms he would be sharing with his wife in order to have a brief moment with Finnie prior to escorting her to dinner.

He was pleasantly contemplating how he would spend that brief moment as he turned the knob and entered their rooms.

He got two steps in, caught sight of his wife and stopped dead.

Finnie was sitting in an armchair across the great space, her knees tight to her chest, a winter white blanket tucked around her and her cat Penelope was curled in a ball in the seat by her hip. Her head was bowed to a book, her white-blonde hair had been curled in a riot of waves and ringlets that fell down her back but was pulled up at the sides in jeweled clips. Her face was made up in a way that managed to succeed in what, until gazing on her, Frey would have thought was the impossible task of enhancing her already significant beauty and he could see her even more generous than normal display of cleavage coming forth from a gown of shimmering ice blue that was exceedingly becoming to her complexion and coloring. All of this was to such an extreme, he had to stop dead to give himself a chance to take it in.

Her head came up and her eyes slowly turned to him and when the fullness of their beauty hit him, Frey considered skipping dinner altogether. And as he considered this he decided that later, much later, they could have something sent up.

This idea fled his mind when she said softly, yet listlessly, “Hey. You’re back.”

Then she turned back to her book.

These actions made Frey stay frozen for an altogether different reason as he studied his wife and her demeanor and registered a tone she’d never used and one which by no means suited her.

Then he closed the door and walked into the room, saying, “Your parents would like us to meet them for a drink prior to us sitting down to dinner.”

Her head came up and she turned her eyes to him briefly, not indicating even a hint of excitement at this idea, before she looked away, nodded and then reached to grab a ribbon to put in her book. She did this, closed it, set it on the table beside the chair and then gently nudged Penelope, who gave a sleepy, disturbed “mew” before jumping to the floor.

Frey had come to a stop in front of her when she tossed the blanket aside and stood, her eyes averted, then she attempted to scoot out from in front of him to pass him.

His arm instantly moved to hook her at the waist and pull her in front of him, his other one moving around to hold her there.

Her head tipped back to look at him and he felt his gut tighten when he saw a blankness that fitted her mother of this world far more than his Finnie.

“Is something amiss, wee one?” he asked and she shook her head.

“Just tired and hungry,” she spoke her lie before again looking away and moving to break from his arms.

They tightened and her eyes went back to him.

“I asked what was amiss, Finnie,” he said softly.

“And I told you. I’m tired and hungry,” she lied again. “Can we go to dinner?”

“In a minute,” Frey stated, she pulled in breath and let it out, holding his gaze, waiting then he queried, “What’s the matter?”

Her body grew tight in his arms and her brows inched together with irritation.

“Frey, I told you. I’m tired and hungry.”

“This is not it,” he replied.

“Yes it is,” she returned.

“You’re lying, wife,” he stated and she blinked and after she blinked her cheeks flushed and her eyes flashed.

“Did you just say I was lying?” she whispered.

“I did because you are,” he stated.

Her brows snapped together and her irritation grew to visible annoyance. “I am not and anyway, if I was, you don’t know me enough to know when I am.”

“You’re hiding something,” Frey told her, “and I wish to know what it is.”

She pulled against his arms and was nowhere near strong enough to dislodge them but was smart enough to give up before she snapped, “I’m not hiding anything.”

“Wife,” he gave her a gentle squeeze, “I have seen you tired, hungry, and tired and hungry. You do not lose the light in your eyes or the cheerfulness with which you hold your frame even when you are one, the other or both. Now, you’re hiding something and I wish to know what it is.”

She glared up at him but didn’t speak.

So he guessed, “Are you nervous about dinner with your parents?”

Her glare narrowed and she asked, “Why would I be nervous? They’re my parents. We’ve had thousands of dinners.”

This was a lie too though he let that particular one pass.

“All right, if you’re not nervous about your parents, then what are you not sharing with me?”

It was then she stated with not a small amount of ire, “Okay, Frey, actually, I am hiding something and it’s my something to hide and you can be a big, strong guy but if I have something on my mind I don’t wish to share, I don’t have to share it. So, suck it up because I’m not going to share it. All right?”

“Suck it up?” he asked quietly.

“Man up or…” she shook her head with frustration as she searched for words from both their worlds he would understand, “I don’t know. You’re just going to have to deal with it.”

He dipped his face closer to hers and said carefully, “My wee Finnie, I do not like that you would keep anything from me.”

“Tough,” she retorted instantly and his head went back as he again saw the flash in her eyes.

And he suddenly understood what that flash meant.

“Are you angry with me?” Frey asked.

“No,” she lied again.

“Gods,” he stared in her irate, still beautiful eyes, “you are. You’re angry with me.”

“I said I’m not, Frey.”

“You lie again, Finnie. I see it in our eyes, your anger is very clear and you’re not hiding it. What, by the gods, I would like to know is what I did to deserve it. I’ve been gone not two hours.”

She glared at him and kept her mouth shut.

“Finnie, we’ll delay joining your parents until you tell me.”

That was when her cheeks flushed, her eyes blazed and her jaw got tight and before she could rein the words in, she spewed, “That’s okay by me. I’ll just call my maidservants and order trays to be brought up. Maybe, if you’re lucky, Viola will bring them up.”

Bloody hell.

Her bloody maids had been talking.

“Finnie –”

“Let me go, Frey,” she demanded, now pushing at his arms with her hands.

“Wife, look at me,” he ordered, she did and she stilled.

Then she suddenly lost control and shouted, “I said, let me go!”

At her losing hers, Frey felt his temper snag and therefore growled, “Calm down, wife.”

She stopped pushing and glared at him.

Then she stated, “I see, you’re done with her. Three days, was it? That’s a long time. I can see that you would be. Perhaps I should talk to my mother and father, see about letting her go. Would that be good for you?”

Damn it to hell.

Her bloody too informative, gods damned maids.

“Finnie –”

“Well?” she cut him off to demand.

It was then he clipped, perhaps not cleverly, “As you know, wife, the Winter Palace is yours. You live in Fyngaard. Your parents reside in their castle in Snowdon and have returned here to prepare for the Gales. The lovely Viola is in your employ and if it is your wish to let her go then you’ve every right to do so.”

“Then I’ll see to that without delay,” she returned hotly.

“That is your right,” he shot back and continued, most definitely not cleverly, “though it would be a shame to lose her charm serving your table.”

She went completely still in his arms but the pink fled her cheeks as the pain flashed in her eyes.

Gods damn it to hell.

“You didn’t just say that,” she whispered.

He tried to gather her closer but her hands went instantly to his chest to hold herself back.

“Finnie, my love, this discussion is ridiculous. That was years ago. She’s a servant. Just a servant. She didn’t mean a gods damned thing. They never do.”

This, although he would have no way to know it for a woman of his world, a princess especially and Sjofn of the House of Wilde definitely would understand that a man like him would freely dally with a wench like Viola without thought or shame, but apparently a woman of Finnie’s world did not think the same thing and he belatedly understood that it was very clearly the wrong thing to say.

And he would learn this because her beautiful eyes closed down, shut him out and she replied quietly, “Then let me educate you, Frey, if it was years ago or yesterday, if it was a servant or a duchess, to your wife, no matter what you think of her or what you think she thinks of you, it means everything. Now, let me the fuck go so I can have dinner with my parents.”

The ugly word he didn’t understand but she emphasized so tersely caused him to loosen his arms and she pulled instantly away and then didn’t delay in moving directly to the door.

She opened it, stood at it, turned back to him and called, “Are you coming?”

She needed him to guide her to the dining room for she had no earthly clue where she was going and she didn’t wish him to know she didn’t.

And suddenly, their game annoyed him but Frey moved across the room to his wife. However, when he got there, he quietly shut the door.

She glared at it then tipped her head back to glare at him.

He lifted a hand to curl around her neck and bent so his face was close to hers.

“We’ll finish this discussion after dinner,” he said gently.

“No we won’t,” Finnie retorted immediately, her voice a snap and it whipped across his frayed temper like a lash, causing him to lose hold on it so he squeezed her neck and got closer.

“Yes, wife, we will.” His fingers again tensed at her neck, he dipped even closer to her and his voice was a low rumble when he decreed, “We’ll finish a number of things unfinished between us after dinner.”

Her eyes widened, her face paled and her lips parted.

She understood him.

He let her neck go, opened the door, took his wife’s hand and pulled her into the hall.

Then he dragged her down it, his strides long and angry, and as he did so he thought dinner with her parents was going to be interesting.

And it was going to be long.

Too long.

So he was going see to it that it ended as soon as possible.

He and his bride had vastly more important things to do.