Page 88 of Stardust Child

“They might have been in rows,” Remin agreed, cocking his head to examine the low trees. “Is it hard, roasting hazelnuts?”

He handed her one of the baskets as she explained the process, bending to scoop a handful of nuts from the grass into his own basket. The sun felt good after the cool shadows under the forest.

“I just wanted them so Azelma would make hazelnut cookies,” Ophele said, pausing to pluck away leaf and husk tidily before she threw the nuts into her own basket. “I wonder if Wen could make some.”

“We might persuade him,” Remin said vaguely. “I wouldn’t mind trying them myself.”

It was amusing to realize that he could literally listen to Ophele recite recipes and find it fascinating. Together, they moved down the row of trees as the squirrels chattered wrathfully overhead. More than once Remin had to shoo the bold creatures out of his basket.

They must have come at the perfect time to harvest. The hazelnuts were dropping out of the trees even as they plucked them from the ground; it seemed like every time Remin bent over, another one plunked against his shoulders or bounced off his head.

“I ought to just shake them down,” he said, brushing a hand through his hair as he glared up into the branches. “It’s like standing in a storm. Maybe the squirrels are retaliating.”

“They do sound annoyed.” Ophele sounded as if she were trying not to laugh. “You can hear them chattering. Like they’re plotting.”

“A coordinated assault?” The idea tickled him. “I was worried about running into a bear or wolves, but Tounot said they’d all be fat and lazy this time of year. It didn’t occur to me we’d have to be worried about squir—damnthese little…”

He cut the insult off and looked automatically behind him as a nut swished by his ear. After many years spent as the target of arrows, he was good at guessing an object’s origin from its trajectory and was shocked to find Ophele standing a few yards behind him, one hand extended in an underhand toss, caught dead to rights and guilty as sin. Her hand rotated upward to point at the trees overhead.

“It was the squirrels,” she said.

That was a lie. An outrageous, shameless, boldfaced lie. Remin started for her and Ophele gave a little shriek and started running.

“So you were on their side all along?” he demanded, fighting not to laugh as he gave chase. He was ridiculously pleased that Ophele would play such a prank.“You will pay for this treachery, wife.”

“Only if you catch me!” she called, clutching her skirts as she raced through the trees. She was faster than he expected. Remin was actuallyhaving to exert himself to overtake her, and she was a wily little opponent, careening through the tight places where the trees bunched together to slow him down.

“This is a diversion, isn’t it?” Remin lunged and almost cut her off, and Ophele dodged away with a squeal, giggling madly. “Leading me away so the squirrels can raid our baskets.”

“Yes, yes!” she gasped, and shrieked again when he lunged and nearly caught her. “Hail the legion of squirrels!”

That made him laugh so hard she actually gained a little distance. Remin accelerated after her, his heavy boots crunching leaves and branches underfoot. Ophele was a flurry of green skirts and flying hair, her eyes glowing with delight at this play, fleet as a deer. In a small grove of birches, he cornered her, and Ophele retreated, so light and quick on her feet that he knew she would eel past him if he gave her the least opening. He had never expected her to give him such a chase.

“Where will you go now?” he asked, his teeth flashing in a predatory grin. The chase had excited him in more ways than one. The sight of her flushed and breathless and retreating before him fired his blood.

“I think—” Her eyes flicked right and she went left, a clever feint that left Remin momentarily grasping air. With another lunge, he was on her before she had gone a half dozen paces, and she squealed and struggled as he snatched her off the ground.

“Got you,” he rumbled.

“What will you do?” she asked, turning her head to look up at him. Her voice was suddenly altered, soft and breathy and tempting.

“I shall have to punish you, of course.” Just saying those words made him harden like an oak. His hands slid down her body, holding her tight against him. Remin bit the back of her neck. “No one can hear you scream out here, wife.”

“Here? Now?” she breathed as his fingers pushed between her legs, and he had to catch her as her knees wobbled, both of them tumbling into the grass.

Here. Now. He hadn’t planned for this to happen, but he was not at all averse to it. Remin bent over her to cup her breasts from behind, his hips pushing into her clothed backside. He was so aroused he couldn’t think straight.

Which was probably good, or he might not have had the guts to do it, out in the open in the middle of the day. Dragging her skirts up, he yanked at the laces of his breeches and thrust into her. He had just enough sense not to damage her clothes, but oh, how he wanted all that soft, tempting skin, and he brushed her hair over her shoulders to leave the marks of his mouth all over her neck, his breath scorching her. Oh, stars, it felt so good.

“Remin…” Her hips moved under him, a sinuous roll backward, and Remin drew back and thrust deep.

“Be loud,” he ordered.

It was like a dream. A wild golden dream where they were the only people in the world, a fantasy of dappled leaf shadows shifting on her skin as they moved frantically together. The sound of her voice unstrung spurred him to go harder, faster, his own groans bursting from his deep chest with every stroke.

“Hard—harder,” she begged, the words broken between hammering thrusts. “Oh, more, Remin,more!”

Could he really? There was no squeaky bed to stop him here. Some rudimentary caution sounded as he increased his speed, and her hips moved under him, eager. Remin lost every remnant of his reason and pounded them both into oblivion.

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