Nina shivered and stretched her arms over her head for a moment, luxuriating in how good she felt, even just then. She could hurry herself along, but she never needed to with Geralt.

The scrape of his beard made her smile.

"Mm, but you still needed me," she teased, remembering the first time she'd helped him in the field, luring an incubus. She reached down to stroke his beard as he worked on getting his doublet off. "Winter has you so layered up, love. I thought summer was bad enough."

Geralt had always been in no less than two shirts - and at least on two occasions he'd given his top layer to her, once while she was in torn teal chiffon, and the next during an unexpected blizzard. She swore winter saw that doubled.