I sat with my robe tied tight around a waist and a body that looked, almost, like me again, and wanted to be just me, just Merry, with someone, for an hour or two.

There was a knock on the door, not a soft one either. I said, “Come in.”

Rhys opened the door, smiling. Galen was behind him, sort of looming with his six inches of extra height. I didn’t normally think of Galen as that tall, because he seemed smaller compared to the other guards, but now I realized he was as tall as most; only Rhys was under six feet.

I smiled but fought not to frown. “I thought you were supposed to decide which of you it was going to be.”

They glanced at each other as Galen closed the door behind them. “We were,” Rhys said, “but we spent months sharing your bed, so we … tied.”

“Tied?” I asked.

“Rhys tried to pull rank, and I wouldn’t let him without a fight.”

I looked at Galen and didn’t try to keep the surprise off my face. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, and his usually good-natured face was set in serious lines.

“Really,” Rhys said.

I looked from one to the other of them. “How serious a fight were you willing to have?”

“I wasn’t backing down,” Galen said, and he said it as if it were simple fact and not a total shock.

“I think he might have requested a duel,” Rhys said.

Galen looked uncomfortable then, and more his normal self. “I don’t know if I would have taken it that far.”

“Now you tell me,” Rhys said, smiling.

Galen rolled his eyes, and then the kidding faded, and he turned that serious, handsome face to me. “But short of a duel, I wasn’t giving up the first chance to touch you in months.”

Rhys turned so that only I could see his face. He raised eyebrows at me, but there was something new in his face as he said, “It was the most angry I’ve ever seen him, outside of a fight to save your life, or ours.”

I looked up at him, and suddenly his face was uncertain. “The only one who could tell me no today is you, Merry. Do you want just Rhys? If you do, then I’ll leave.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s all right, I mean … stay, both of you stay, though with no intercourse allowed and not even being able to do o**l s*x on me, I’m not sure what both of you will be doing.” I laughed and held my hands out to them both. “It’s an embarrassment of riches to have you both.”

Galen grinned, and the two men exchanged a look. They’d had months of literally sharing my bed and my body. They worked almost as well together as Frost and Doyle, though since they didn’t love each other, the energy wasn’t the same. It was good, but not as good, but then more love makes everything better.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

THE CLOTHES CAME off in an eager rush of hands and kisses, and left them nude and me wearing only the forest-green panties that matched the robe. I wanted to be as na**d as they were, wanted to rub as much of my skin on theirs as possible, but my body wasn’t healed enough from giving birth, not yet.

They laid me down between them and covered my body with kisses and caresses. Just that brought small eager sounds from me, making me writhe, body arching up against their hands like a cat, except I was lying on my back and arching things up toward them that cats didn’t offer their owners. Rhys’s hand slid down the front of my panties at last. I cried out just from that, arching my pelvis upward toward his hand.

Rhys put his other hand on my hip. “Easy, we need to be gentle, remember.”

I blinked up at him and had a moment of wanting to argue, but my body was already letting me know that I might have been a little overeager, writhing around. It didn’t hurt, but I ached.

“I’m sorry, I do remember, it’s just been so long.”

“It’s been a long time for us, too, Merry,” Rhys said, leaning in to kiss me. His hand wasn’t down my pants anymore; he’d moved to keep from hurting me while I moved too much.

“We need to be slow, not fast,” Galen said with a grin.

“Goddess help me, but I don’t feel slow, or gentle; I feel crazed with the need to have you touch me everywhere.”

“And we would like nothing better, but if we hurt you we’ll never forgive ourselves,” Rhys said.

“Not to mention that Doyle, Frost, and the rest will kick our asses,” Galen said, smiling.

“They’d try,” Rhys said.

“I’d put up a good fight,” Galen said, “but eventually they’d win.”

Rhys’s face closed down; it was beyond serious.

“What?” I asked him.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Liar,” I said.

He grinned. “Now we’re not allowed to actually lie.”

“But we’re allowed to exaggerate until you’d believe the moon was made out of green cheese,” I said.

“But we’re allowed to lie by omission,” Galen said.

Rhys frowned at him. “Don’t help me.”

I studied his face. “You think you could win against Doyle and Frost.”

“I know I could.”

I gave him a look.

He smiled, but it left that one tri-blue eye unhappy. “I could bring death with my touch to non-fey when I was just Rhys. You’ve seen me do it.”

“But you killed the goblin that tormented you and Kitto; that’s fey.”