He laughed. “You never cease to charm me, wife. A more winsome wench I can’t imagine.” He gathered her into his arms. “Of course, you’ll never know the answer to that question because I have no intention of letting another man near you for as long as I live.”
Their lips met in agreement, a bond of fidelity sealed with a kiss. He picked her up, cradling her in his arms like the precious treasure she was, and carried her back to the bed.
“Now,” he said, “we shall begin your lessons.”
Epilogue
Ertemis hid himself in the shadows outside their door, wanting to catch a glimpse of his wife unaware. He hadn’t seen her all day. There was much to do before his parents left for Elysium. Because of that, he yearned for more time alone with her before the pace of their lives increased further.
Whether she was teaching Fynna a new spell, practicing her own magic or drowsing beneath him with the flush of passion coloring her cheeks, he loved watching her. The latter thought filled him with new purpose as he entered their bedchamber.
She sat by the fire, her glorious hair unbound and spilling over her shoulders. His latest gift to her stretched in front of the fire, then left his spot on the rug to seek his mistress’s attention. Raisin rubbed against her legs, and she reached down to scratch the little black cat on the head before taking up her needles again. The pink tip of her tongue darted over her lips as she worked the yarn in her hands.
He chuckled softly and she looked toward the door. “There you are. How was your day, my love?”
He glanced behind him. “You can see me?”
“Of course. You’re standing right in front of me.”
“But I’m hidden. You shouldn’t be able to see me.”
She shrugged. “Well, I can.”
“I thought the residual powers you gained healing me disappeared a few months ago.”
“They did.” She pursed her lips. “Hmmm…perhaps you should listen to my heart.”
He knelt beside her. “Are you ill?”
“Perhaps I am.”
With his senses fully aware, he did as she asked. When the sound of her heartbeat came to him, he knew immediately something was amiss. Concern twisted his mouth and he listened again. The faint echo was all too familiar.
A chill shot through him. “Sryka,” he whispered.
She shook her head. “Once more, my love.”
Again, he concentrated, letting the ebb and flow of her beating heart flow through him. Again, he heard the second, subtle rhythm of another heart. He frowned. “I don’t understand.”
She held her knitting up, trying to suppress a laugh.
He stared at the tiny bootie dangling from her needles. The realization struck him like a thunderbolt. “Are you…are we…is that…” He sat back on his heels, his mouth open.
A laugh of pure delight spilled out of her. “Yes, my love.”
He swept her up into his arms. “A babe! I am the most blessed man in all of Shaldar.” He shook his head in disbelief. “How long have you known?”
“Not long. I am glad to see you so happy.”
“Happy? I am overjoyed beyond words. I cannot describe it.” He spun her around in his arms.
She put her hand on his chest to stop him. “I am dizzy enough of late as it is, I do not need your help.”
He stopped immediately. “Should I put you down? Did I hurt you?”
“I am not some fragile flower that needs coddling. I just don’t need any more spinning than what my stomach does on its own.”
He sat gently on the bed, holding her steady. “Does this mean I should find my own quarters to sleep in?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so happy and so sad in such a short span of time,” she teased. “There is no reason for you to sleep elsewhere. But in time, sleep is all you’ll be doing in this bed.”
“In time, you say?” A shameless smile bent his mouth. “I’m sure you’ll agree we must use what’s left as wisely as possible.” He nuzzled his lips her neck and her laughter turned into a shriek of pleasure as his hands slid up her gown.
She dropped her knitting off the side of the bed and nibbled his lower lip. “Oh yes, we mustn’t waste a moment. I’m sure there are still things you haven’t taught me. And then there are all the lessons I’ve forgotten.”
He shook his head. He could not love her more if he tried. “Are you always going to be such a saucy wench?”
Love shone in her eyes like the stars in the sky. “Kiss me, halfling, and see for yourself.”
The End
About the author:
When the characters in Kristen Painter’s head started to take over, she decided to exorcise them onto paper and share them with the world. She writes paranormal romance for Samhain Publishing and has the first of three books in her gothic fantasy vampire series, Blood Rights, coming from Orbit in fall 2011. She hopes to add a YA series to the mix as well and has also been published in non-fiction, poetry and short stories. The former college English teacher can often be found online at Romance Divas, the award-winning writers’ forum she co-founded. She’s represented by Elaine Spencer of The Knight Agency.
Connect with Me Online:
Twitter: http://twitter.com/Kristen_Painter
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Heart of Fire Page 33