My handsome husband tasted of peanut butter and marshmallow fluff.
Kiss number three in the lineup of our best kisses.
Kisses, all of them, better than anything… absolutely anything… even my wildest dreams.
* * * * *
Very late that night…
The forest outside Houllebec.
Valentine Rousseau moved through the dark night until she saw the figure emerge from behind the tree and she stopped.
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, the moonlight was bright and she saw his big, firm, muscular body, dark thick hair, strong jaw and jade green eyes.
Delicious, she thought as she had always thought when she saw this gorgeous specimen.
“You are a powerful witch,” his deep, appealing voice rumbled.
“I am,” she replied.
He hesitated.
Then he asked, “Is it true what Frey tells me?”
“About each world having twin?” she queried.
He didn’t bother to reply but she knew.
She knew.
She was pleased to bring her goddess of love jars of peanut butter, marshmallow fluff and even her tedious friend for she had her delightful ice blue diamond from The Drakkar.
But Valentine was multitasking.
“It is,” she answered.
He moved a step closer and she tipped her head back, keeping hold on those remarkable green eyes.
And what she read there made her draw in a delicate breath.
Then he held out a small, leather pouch to her, she lifted her hand, palm up and he dropped it in.
“Her name is Ilsa Ulfr,” he growled then he turned and strode away.
She stared at his broad-shouldered, departing back.
Then she dipped her chin, pulled the leather band on the pouch to open it and she tipped the stones into her palm.
They sparkled in the moonlight.
She smiled her cat’s smile.
Then she looked to the distance and saw he was gone.
“Love is,” she whispered to the night, “everything.”