The Warrior's Viking Bride (Harlequin Historical)

by Michelle Styles

  His face settled into its more familiar harsh planes. ‘Try trusting me. We are in a fellowship, working together for a common cause. Without you meeting your father, my life would not be worth living.’

  Dagmar swallowed hard. The fellowship would end far sooner than she desired. ‘The last man I trusted was my father and we both know how that turned out.’

  ‘Shall we go? Get some miles on the road because in Alba, in the autumn when the sun shines, the rain is sure to follow.’

  Dagmar regarded the hamlet. There was something peaceful and calm about this place, as though nothing bad could ever happen here. ‘I wish we could linger.’

  ‘I have responsibilities which transcend my desires. You do as well.’

  She hugged her arms about her waist, hating that Aedan was right. Remaining here, living in some dream land, was an impossibility.

  Dagmar hit her hand against her head. This was why her mother warned her against becoming involved with a man. Her judgement went. Instead of feeling sorry for herself, she needed to think like a warrior again. ‘I know all about my responsibilities.’

  He caught her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘I’m not very good with fancy words. Not in the way my brother was... I want to protect you, Dagmar but...my people must come first. Always.’

  ‘Once our felag has finished, my future lies along a very different path to yours,’ she said before he had the chance to get the words out. ‘I know what is between us will end. My father will never guess it ever existed. Your offer of protection is unnecessary.’

  He drew a line along her jaw. ‘Even still...’

  ‘Once we get to Colbhasa, I will ensure my father pays the full measure of his bargain and we will part without a backward glance or a tear.’ The words burst forth from far deep in her soul. ‘But we will still have this time, whatever our future holds. Please.’

  She waited and a tiny piece of her whispered that he’d say that he planned on making an offer for her hand when they arrived at Colbhasa. She hated that she’d be tempted to accept despite everything her mother had instilled in her about men’s treachery and how marriage diminished women.

  ‘Then I must be happy with what I have.’ He turned his back to her and started to adjust the blankets on the ponies. ‘I look forward to exploring your body properly and showing you what pleasure can truly be.’

  She released her breath and hoped her heart would be content with that.

  Chapter Seven

  Aedan guided his plodding pony along the sun-dappled track. The puddles gleamed in the unexpected sunshine. Even the day seemed brighter because Dagmar was in it.

  It amazed him that she worried he wouldn’t want her after they had coupled once. Not want her? He had trouble remembering when he’d been this hot for any woman, even Brigid in the heady days when he actually thought she cared for him, before he discovered the truth.

  It was helpful that Dagmar was being sensible and understood that they had no future together, yet something nagged at him. He’d met the woman who set his senses alight and she could already see an end to it. She saw a future beyond him.

  He glanced over to her and his breath stopped in his throat. The sunlight made it seem as though she was wearing a golden crown. She moved slightly, causing the material across her breasts to tighten. His body hardened immediately at the sight of her erect nipples. He slid off his pony and went over to her.

  ‘Why have we stopped here?’ Dagmar asked, tilting her head to one side. ‘We were making good progress. Shall I change back into my proper clothes? Do you want that demonstration on how to flip a warrior on his backside?’

  Her proper clothes and then a remark about her promised sharing of her fighting techniques, a subtle reminder if he needed it that she was a warrior first and a woman second. What he wanted was the woman. He needed to find a way to convince her to remain a woman and not erect her defences until they reached the western shore. He could see them going up by the heartbeat and the priest had failed to give him more mead.

  ‘You will soon discover,’ Aedan said, making a decision. A risk, but Dagmar had to come to the conclusion to wear her gown on her own. ‘Get down.’

  She started to slide off.

  ‘No, not like that, wait until I am there.’

  Dagmar made a disgusted noise. ‘For Freyja’s sake, I know how to get off a horse. I am not some creature made of precious glass.’

  ‘Good things come to those who wait.’ He put his hands about her waist and slid her down the length of him. His body needed no encouragement to respond.

  Her eyes widened as she encountered his erection.

  ‘We’re far from anyone which is excellent,’ he said in her ear. ‘And I’ve no wish to share. I didn’t have time to properly wake you this morning and I wish to make up for my...lack of manners.’

  She displayed no maidenly hesitation, but pressed her body up against his. ‘You want me to undress in the daytime?’

  ‘No, I’m about to demonstrate why gowns can be useful. Why you might consider keeping this one on, not simply as a disguise.’

  Claiming her mouth, he backed her up against a tree. With one hand, he rucked her gown up. As he had hoped, she was bare underneath.

  His fingers encountered her soft nest of curls, skilfully slipping in and playing amongst the delicate folds. She was instantly wet and sleek for him. He knelt in front of her and tasted the salty sweetness where his fingers had played, moving his tongue round and round. She gave an inarticulate cry and her body convulsed. He slipped a finger inside her and her entire being quivered to a delicious shudder.

  Her hands clawed at his shoulders and he glanced up. Her eyes were heavy lidded and her mouth a dusky pink with passion. His body thrummed in anticipation.

  ‘I want you in me.’

  ‘You are—’

  She put a finger against his mouth. ‘I know what I am and what I want and no one, not even you, gets to make that decision for me. You in me, here. Now.’

  He rose and gathered her face between his palms. ‘I accept the command with pleasure.’

  Her arms tangled about his neck and pulled him closer.

  He lifted her bottom and drove into her. She put her legs about his waist, holding him there.

  Mewling cries emerged from her throat as he felt her tighten about him.

  His body convulsed as her cries reached fever pitch. All around them the birds started singing.

  Coming back to earth, Aedan smoothed the hair from her forehead. ‘That is why a gown is a good idea.’

  She stepped away from him and rearranged her skirts. ‘I may have to rethink. Gowns do have their uses, but you are not wearing one and you still managed.’

  He smiled. ‘I stand corrected.’

  ‘And was this the pleasure you promised me earlier?’

  ‘No, this was merely a taste of what is to come. I have trouble keeping my hands off you in that gown.’

  Her cheeks became flame-coloured. ‘If it is impeding our progress, then perhaps I should change.’

  ‘Your choice.’

  She gave a throaty laugh. ‘As I have started in this, I shall wear it for today. However, I will not wear a gown when we arrive at my father’s. A point of principle.’

  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that no matter what she wore or how she acted or even how good a warrior she was, her father would see her married. And the man she married, had children with and shared the simple pleasures of living with, would not be him.

  The thought was like a dose of cold water. He couldn’t bear to see the light die in her eyes. She’d find out soon enough. He was being a coward, but they had both agreed—they parted at the end and each went to live his or her own life. In her old clothes, she’d be easier to let go.

  ‘I think we might risk sleeping under the stars tonight,’ he sai
d instead.

  Her eyes sparkled. ‘Only if you are sure...’

  ‘I’ve discovered the perfect way to keep warm.’

  * * *

  ‘Tell me about Kintra. Tell me about your home.’ Dagmar drew her knees to her chest as she sat beside the small fire.

  They had stopped for the night by a small dry cave, easy to defend if they had to, and had finished feasting on the food the priest had thoughtfully provided and some windfall apples Aedan had discovered.

  Aedan stirred the fire, sending a series of sparks up into the sky. ‘Why do you want to know?’

  ‘Curiosity, mainly,’ Dagmar admitted with a sigh. She envied Aedan a home, a place where he belonged, where he was loved and belonged. ‘You love the place. That much is clear from your voice whenever you speak of it.’

  ‘Kintra’s requirements and the people who live there can drive me wild at times but when I am away from it, I miss it. It becomes a dull ache in my chest. When it gets too great, I return. But this should be the final time I need to be away. The time is right for me to shoulder my responsibilities.’

  ‘But what does it look like? I want to picture it in my mind.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because some day when I am going about my business I may want to think of you. Is that too strange a thought?’

  Aedan described the island, the hall and the fields that surrounded it until a clear picture rose in Dagmar’s mind. Her heart twisted. Even if there were no lives at stake, Dagmar knew she could not ask him to run away with her and turn his back on this place. The passion he had for it shone out of his face.

  ‘It must be pleasant to have a home like that, somewhere where you truly belong, a place of refuge from the wider world.’

  He gave her a troubled look. ‘I grew up there. My family has kept a watch over it for many generations. I’m not going to be the person who abandons it to the marauding hordes. What about Colbhasa? Could that be home for you?’

  She shook her head. Her heart gave a pang at the lands she’d forfeited through Olafr’s treachery. She could have been happy there. ‘That will never be my home. I grew up on a small farm on a fjord in Viken. Prosperous enough and my parents would leave each summer to journey to Kaupang and other trading places.’

  ‘Did they take you?’

  ‘If it was to Kaupang, yes, but on the open sea, no. I was left behind with my nurse. Eventually my parents acquired more land and power. My mother had to stay home and rule while my father went off. They used to fight about it, but he would never yield.’

  ‘But he failed to remain there after your mother left.’

  ‘You’d have to ask him why he left. The politics in Viken are complicated. All I know is that my childhood home no longer exists. My mother raged about it for weeks when she learned that. In her final years, she wanted a place to call home and to grow old in. It failed to happen in the way she dreamt.’

  Or the way she’d vowed it would when I was a child.

  Dagmar kept the thought silent.

  ‘Did your mother acquire more land, provide you with a new home?’

  Dagmar explained rapidly about the lands Constantine had promised and how they’d farmed them for two seasons in anticipation of being gifted them. ‘When my mother died, her funeral pyre shone bright over the loch. But that is all gone because of treachery.’

  ‘Had Olafr’s treachery not happened?’

  ‘Then I would have retired from fighting to farm there.’ Dagmar watched the flames. They danced like a battle and she could see the faces of those simple farmers who had at first mistrusted them, but had come to realise that they were responsible masters. ‘I’ve seen too many good men die. Dollar was to be my last battle and then I would have concentrated on protecting my interests and being a good steward of the land.’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘Old Alf used to say that was what my mother always said at the end of the season, but she was unable to resist the drums of war. But ever since the middle of the last warring season, I’ve had this longing in my soul to sit and watch sunsets.’

  ‘And now?’ There was a catch in his voice.

  ‘My choices are limited—I am an excellent warrior. I can always become a sell-sword if my father refuses to listen to common sense. Eventually I will acquire my own lands where I can sit and watch the sunset without worrying about the next morning’s battle. I make you that promise.’

  He put his hands behind his head. ‘Your father might have other ideas about your future.’

  Dagmar rose and raised her fist to the darkening sky. ‘My father will understand my need to avenge my men. He’ll give me ships. Once he sees my prowess in the art of warfare, he will see sense.’

  ‘And if he doesn’t?’ Aedan asked into the stillness. At her glance, he stood and came over to her, putting heavy hands on her shoulders. ‘I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Dagmar. I don’t want you to get hurt.’

  ‘I’ll find another way.’ She brushed his lips with hers. ‘You’re sweet to worry but I can best my father. I will ensure my future happens how I’ve envisioned it. I won’t be sacrificed on the altar of my father’s ambition.’

  Aedan’s frown increased. ‘Kolbeinn is a very determined man. He hates to be thwarted. He possesses the power to enforce his will.’

  She put a hand against his face. ‘And I am his daughter. My coming battle with my father will wait until you have won your wager. Shall we do some more training? I need to be in perfect condition when I encounter Olafr.’

  Aedan ignored her touch. ‘Why do I suspect you told Old Alf the same thing about Olafr’s intentions? Did you also seek to distract him?’

  ‘Not in this way.’

  ‘It is far too late for training.’

  Dagmar hugged her arms about her waist. Why did he hit unerring on the flaw in her plan? ‘Without hope, I’m nothing.’

  He tilted her chin upwards. ‘I’m grateful for what you are doing for my people. If there is any help I can give you without jeopardising them, I will, but I know the size of your father’s fleet and my people have suffered enough. My first duty is always to them.’

  A conditional promise of help was more than she had expected. She raised up on her toes and put her face next to his. ‘I will keep your words in the forefront of my mind when I encounter my father. Right now, I think I need some more help to keep the bad dreams at bay.’

  * * *

  The stars sparkled overhead as Dagmar snuggled deeper into the circle of Aedan’s arms a few nights later. For the last three nights, she had tried to pretend that they would never get to the west coast of Alba. The journey had been relatively smooth and each night they had found a place to rest.

  Dagmar learned more about coupling than she thought possible. She had learned that his touch could turn her insides to liquid and that it was pleasant to wake up with him inside her. She learned how to hold his erection and drive him wild. But mostly she had discovered that she fitted with this man and that she enjoyed being a woman.

  By concentrating on Aedan and the way he played her body like a harp, she had stopped thinking about her uncertain future. Tonight she found it impossible to sleep. Despite her brave words to Aedan, she had no perfect plan for ensuring her father bowed to her will. She had to hope that her father would be impressed with her skill as a warrior and would see what an asset she was, rather than marrying her off immediately.

  On Colbhasa her future would be very different from what she had planned with her mother. Even though her stepmother was dead, it was quite possible that her father had already had discovered some other woman to get his sons on and she’d once again have to fight for her survival.

  All the possibilities for dying that her mother used to recite to her came flooding back. All the times when she had wanted to give up and her mother whispered that she needed to be strong in order to fight. She was down, but no
t defeated. She could fight back. But she had run out of ideas on how to do it. All she knew was that she wasn’t going to be a counter in her father’s power games. A sigh escaped her throat.

  Aedan raised up on his elbow. ‘Trouble sleeping? That is unlike you. Lately you have been quite the sound sleeper in the morning.’

  ‘Going over tomorrow in my mind. All the possibilities for the future after we catch the tide.’ She made her voice sound steady. ‘Once I’ve shown my father that I am a good and competent warrior, everything should fall into place.’

  ‘How will you do that?’

  ‘I’ll fight his chosen champion if I have to.’ Silently she prayed that it wouldn’t be Aedan. Her father did have a way of twisting things to suit his purpose and he had likely sent Aedan to be slain. ‘My mother did that and won. Maybe he will agree to a contest where I can prove my skills. Once I defeat them all, he will have to admit that a daughter is just as good as a son.’

  He laughed. ‘I believe you can defeat them.’

  ‘Once I do that, I’m sure he will see the wisdom in giving me a ship or two to enact my revenge against Olafr.’

  The possibility should have had her brimming with excitement, but it depressed her. There would be so much to do—outfitting the ships, finding the warriors who were willing to serve under her, selecting the target to cause the maximum pain for Olafr and force him to come out of hiding and the men who would die or be maimed because of her decisions.

  She was up to the task. One step at a time and not looking too far ahead. She wished she had Old Alf or someone to lean on.

  She’d miss being part of a team, though, the way she had been with Aedan and Mor. They did work well together. She could talk to him about anything. Anything except... Dagmar paused. She cared for him. It wasn’t supposed to have happened, but when they parted after her father had made good on the wager, he’d take a large part of her heart with him.

  She focused on a spot somewhere over Aedan’s left shoulder. What was it that her mother used to say—never regret what you could not have, turn your face to the future and concentrate on what you can achieve. Aedan was wedded to his people and his lands. He wasn’t hers, could never be. She only had him for a short and very precious time. She had to be content with that.