“People dropped in occasionally. But mostly I was alone.”
The little sound she made struck deep in his gut, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.
“You’re not alone now, troll.” She tried to sound tough, but fierce compassion came through in every word. “And I promise you’ll never be completely alone again.”
And he loved her more in that second than he ever dreamed he could love, had to clench his teeth against the joy and fear expanding in his heart.
Chapter Nine
He was left alone at eleven.
Absently she looked around, glad she’d thought to wear a woolen trench since a brisk, cold breeze whipped along the sheer cliff facing her. There were more torches in place along the rock wall, their golden light glittering on the blowing snow and illuminating the leafless plants ringing the plateau. There didn’t appear to be any openings in the hillside but, as Jasmina watched Vidar wade through the flock, she was still too caught up in his story to even wonder what he was doing.
At eleven her mother had been alive and they’d been surrounded by people—her father’s other wives and children, guards, servants. Every need she’d had, even those never expressed, had been fulfilled. And although she hadn’t been close to her father, at least she’d had one. The thought of Vidar, so young, alone, frightened and fending for himself, broke her heart.
How had he turned out so well? He was shy, yes, but not to the point of paralysis. It seemed incredible that he had raised himself and wasn’t a complete sociopath.
The sheep moved, a restless, milling motion, and they looked as though they were going into the rock. Stepping closer, she could see a small opening, barely wider than Vidar’s shoulders, in the previously blank cliff. Ragnor and Rokk were nipping around the flock, keeping them moving forward and through into whatever lay beyond.
As the last sheep went through, Vidar finally spoke again.
“Come. We’ll go in this way. I’ll show you the front door tomorrow.”
He stood back for her to precede him and, after a brief hesitation, Jasmina walked past him and into the hillside.
The passage was dark and narrow, but before she could feel claustrophobic she came out the other end into a large field, with grass showing through the snowdrifts. It was a surprise to see that although the space was completely surrounded by rocks, it was also open to the sky.
“I keep the sheep in here, where they’ll be safe, during the day.” She glanced back as Vidar spoke, just in time to see the opening they’d just come through close. Once it had, the rock seemed completely impenetrable. He came to her side and took her hand again, curling his fingers around hers. “The lambs stay up here too, until they’re a little bigger. Even with Ragnor and Rokk to take care of them, they’re vulnerable, having just been born.”
She could see one or two of the youngsters frisking about, and another followed its mother out of the stone barn at the far end of the field to join the rest of the flock. Now that everything was secure for the day, the two wolves began a game of tag, nipping at each other as they chased around, working their way across the field toward the right-hand wall. With a little tug at her hand, Vidar started walking in the same direction. Now she could see shuttered windows set into the rock and a large wooden door, banded with silver. As they approached it swung open, and a golden glow spilled out onto the stone threshold.
Still holding her hand, Vidar led her inside. She hadn’t known what to expect of a troll cave, but there was no way she would have imagined this huge, flagstone-floored kitchen. Large as it was, a number of oil lamps set on tables and hanging from brackets on the stone walls cast a cozy light, emphasizing the homey atmosphere. A giant fireplace made of gray stones dominated one wall, while a counter ran the width of the room beneath the windows and housed a deep farmhouse sink. Bundles of herbs hung from the rafters and perfumed the room with their sweet, sharp tang. Everything, including the dining table and the upholstered chairs in front of the hearth, seemed to be on a massive scale. But as Vidar moved into the room, adding perspective, Jasmina realized they were just troll-sized.
At the quiet click of the door behind them, Vidar seemed to relax, and Jasmina realized how worried he must have been by the approaching dawn.
“Come in. Make yourself at home.” He let go of her hand and bent to unlace his boots. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Not right now, thanks.” She was too busy taking in the ambiance. “I like this room a lot.”
He glanced up, a slow tilt of his lips showing his pleasure. “I’m glad. I’ll show you around the rest if you’d like?”
“I would like.”
Straightening, he shot a swift look at the chronometer above the mantelpiece as he toed off one boot, shrugging out of his sheepskin vest at the same time. “There’s just enough time to show you the greenhouse before sunrise.”
“You have a greenhouse?” Following his lead, she unzipped her boots and pulled them off. With a considering look at the stone floor, and a mental shrug, she magicked a pair of warm slippers onto her feet. “I’d definitely like to see that.”
He smiled. “From the number of plants in your apartment, I thought you might. Come.”
Waiting until she’d taken off her woolen coat and hung it on one of the hooks beside the door, he preceded her to a door on the wall opposite the fireplace. As soon as he opened it, the scent of moist earth, flowers and greenery teased her nostrils. Stepping through, she came to a shocked halt, taking in the gigantic room filled with raised beds, each overflowing with plants of every description. Crazy to think it was still winter outside, when in here it looked like late spring.
“How wonderful.”
Jasmina made no effort to disguise her astonishment, heard his little rumble of pleasure in response.
There were palm and orange trees, herbs, vegetables and flowers of every description. Some of the beds had vines trailing down out of them, giving the greenhouse an aura of having grown organically rather than being planned. Yet it was obvious a great deal of thought had gone into its design.
Looking up, she could see the huge grid high above her head, filled with pane after pane of glass that reflected the flickering light of the torches. Moving farther into the room, she reached out to touch the petal of a tiny orchid, one of probably a hundred on the long spike.
“Beautiful, Vidar.”
“Yes.”
She glanced back, found him standing in the doorway watching her, his eyes veiled behind drooping lids. Something about the set of his lips made a hot shiver go up her spine, brought everything they’d done during the night rushing back. Immediately her body responded, heating and tingling, happily readying itself for him again.
Drawing in a steadying breath, she turned back to the flowers, needing a moment to get herself back under control. There’d never been another man who affected her the way Vidar did, filling her with the sense of being needed, wanted. Just that one look made her heart race.
Moving farther into the greenhouse, she came across a niche in the wall. On the narrow shelf were some lumps of amber, a bowl with apples and a statue of a golden boar. In the flowerbed in front of the recess were a variety of plants, only a few of which Jasmina recognized. Just visible among the flowers and leaves she saw tiny stone cats, each a miniature work of art.
“That’s my shrine to Freyja, my goddess.”
She hadn’t heard Vidar move, but her awareness of him was so acute she’d known exactly when he’d come to stand behind her.
“It was a prayer of praise to her that I tattooed on your arms, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” There was a wealth of emotion in his voice and Jasmina’s heart stuttered, but she was afraid to turn so as to see his expression. “It was with her grace I survived after my mother died, to her that I pray.”
“What—” Why was her mouth suddenly so dry, her heart galloping like an out-of-control horse? Jasmina licked her lips and tried again. “What kind of goddess is she
?”
He moved to stand beside her, and she looked up. The light in his eyes made her breath catch in her throat.
“She’s worshiped by many for her various attributes, known as a goddess of war, even of wealth. But to me she is the goddess of love.”
Captivated, head swimming under that fierce, beautiful gaze, Jasmina felt her life-path shift, waver, only to reform into a new, frightening, thrilling road. Jinn didn’t believe gods and goddesses directed their lives. To them destiny was written in the stars—immutable, inescapable. But right now she didn’t care whether it was a goddess or the stars that had brought them together, only knew they were meant to be.
Vidar blinked, glanced up at the glass ceiling. Following his gaze, Jasmina could see the lightening of the sky, and she started back toward the kitchen. Silent, Vidar followed and closed the door once they were back inside. Jasmina rubbed her arms, avoiding looking at Vidar, suddenly almost shy. Impossible to ignore the change in—no, the acknowledgement of—her feelings. If anything she’d expected to fall for him in the physical, superficial way she always did, had known herself already partway there. Never had she expected to go past that into the realm of real, abiding love.
She hadn’t even been sure she was capable of that kind of emotion. Now, with a shiver of fear and excitement, Jasmina recognized the strength and complexity of her emotions, felt as though they were throwing her into a tailspin.
“I want to show you something else.”
How could he sound so calm when the very foundation of her life had just exploded? Taking a deep breath, resolved to play it as cool as possible, she nodded. “Okay.”
Using his hand on the small of her back, Vidar guided her toward an arched doorway. The light pressure of his palm made a warm tingle fire up her spine, and the hair at the back of her neck rose. The passage they stepped into was long and shadowy, unadorned beyond a simple, durable, woven grass runner softening the stones underfoot. As they made their way along the corridor Jasmina wondered about the doorways they passed, but Vidar didn’t pause or tell her what the rooms were. She wanted to joke, break the silence, but the air around them seemed heavy, suddenly fraught, and she couldn’t think of even one witty thing to say.
At the end of the corridor, they went through a door and Jasmina’s heart lurched when she realized they were in his bedroom. But she had only a moment to take in the simple furnishings, light woods and neutral colors before he steered her across the room. As they stepped through another doorway torches flared to life, and Jasmina gasped.
“Oh, Vidar. How gorgeous.”
It was a grotto, carved by water bubbling from beneath the earth to form a deep, clear pool, the surface of which was wreathed in a light mist of steam. The surrounding rock was white, with golden seams and tiny flecks of some mineral that glimmered and gleamed in the torchlight. To one side was a cluster of fat tallow candles set amidst a mound of amber stones and, as she watched, the candles flickered to life and the torches were doused, leaving them bathed in a soft, warm glow.
“This is where I’ve always felt closest to the goddess.” His voice was low and thick and sent a shudder of awareness through every nerve in Jasmina’s body. “Where I prayed to her, begging for her beneficence.”
As though pulled by a force far stronger than her will, Jasmina turned to face him, found him looking down at her, his expression dreamy, eyes sparking blue fire to scorch her soul.
“Did…” She had to stop, lick her suddenly dry lips. “Did she answer your prayers?”
Slowly his hands rose. The tips of his fingers touched her cheeks, trailed down to her neck and came to rest on her shoulders. There was a flash of his magic, stronger, more assured than she’d felt earlier, and her clothing disappeared. Jasmina gasped, both from his boldness and the swirl of the warm, moist air over her exposed skin. Instinctively she reciprocated, using her magic to bare his body in turn and swept her palms over his sides, down to his hips. A sweet shudder of reaction rippled through his muscles.
“She led me to you.” His thumbs traced her collarbones, and the simple touch felt more intimate than a kiss. “Without my need to worship Her, I would never have thought of getting the tattoos, and never have met you.”
Jasmina’s heart lurched, the wild, erratic thump making her lightheaded. Or was it the joy spiraling out through her veins making her sway? It wasn’t the declaration of love she so desperately craved, but it was close enough.
“I thank her too, then, for bringing you to me.”
His smile was incandescent, transformed his face into lines of such beauty tears prickled the backs of Jasmina’s eyes.
Without another word, Vidar swept her up into his arms. Two long strides took him to the edge of the pool. Another step took them into the warm, still water and they both exhaled at the same time in a quiet symphony of pleasure. Turning in his arms, Jasmina wrapped her legs around his waist and ran her fingers into his hair, holding his head in place so she could see his expression. Vidar’s erection nestled against her stomach and his hands cupped her ass, the water making them slide over her skin.
The moist heat should have been relaxing. But its effect was neutralized by being held so close to his gorgeous body, gazing into his desire-heavy eyes. And the slow motion of his fingers, which moved closer to her pussy in tiny, relentless increments, threatened to drive her insane. Sore as she was from their previous encounters, she wanted him with an almost ravenous hunger, needing the physical to cement this new dimension of their relationship.
He shifted, one hand remaining on her ass, the other curling around her thigh. Now his fingertips were almost aligned, settling in a ragged line on one side of the crack of her ass to the crease at the top of her leg. Just a little readjustment would have them touching every quivering inch of her most intimate flesh. His arms trembled, the sensation echoing through her. She tightened her hold on his waist, his hair, saw his lips part on a quiet growl.
Vidar whispered something in his native tongue, but before she could ask him what he’d said, his lips came down on hers and the question flew from her mind. His kiss seared her, the plunging demand of his tongue electrifying her already heated blood, making arousal spark and snap through her body. Flattening and rubbing her breasts against his chest, Jasmina whimpered into his mouth, inhaled his answering groan.
His fingers hadn’t moved, and she rolled her hips, trying to urge him to give her the stimulation she craved, reveling in the sensation of his cock rubbing against her belly. Vidar groaned again and, finally, moved his hands the last necessary inch, fingers parting her labia in front, curling into her ass behind. One fingertip rested on her clit, another found the entrance to her pussy, slipped in just a little. Still another pressed against her asshole, sending sharp stabs of pleasure out to the rest of her body. Breaking the kiss, she arched back, cried out with bliss when he took the opportunity to capture a nipple between his lips.
The combined sensations had her writhing in his arms, sent her spiraling higher and higher toward orgasm. But she wanted him inside her, tried to find the strength to say so. All that came from her lips were pleading gasps, the touch of his fingers and mouth stealing her breath again and again.
Vidar lifted her slightly, the tip of his cock sliding between her pussy lips.
“Will you take me, Jazz? Will you have me again?”
Her heart stumbled and she looked down into his heavy-lidded gaze, trying to clear her mind enough to parse the true meaning of his question. Was it just the physical joining he wanted, or more?
Then she realized it didn’t matter. She wanted it all, would give all to him if he asked.
“Yes.” The affirmation burst from her lips and she pressed down, leaving no doubt as to her answer. “Oh yes, Vidar. Please.”
With a moan so sweet it arrowed into her soul he breached her entrance, stretching already tender flesh to the point of pain, but Jasmina didn’t care. Gladly she took him, rocking her hips to help him go deeper, wanting it all.
Vidar wrapped his arms around her, curling them up to clutch her shoulders from behind. His lips and teeth found her throat, and Jasmina whimpered with each exhalation, her body shuddering, tight, on the very edge of coming.
“Sweet Jazz.” He growled it against her neck, punctuated the words with a rough, delicious scrape of his teeth. “You make me crazy. Hokka garresh, kelema. Hokka garresh.”
As he spoke everything seemed to slow, each sensation grew stronger. She felt every flex and clench of his body and hers, heard every rasping breath, absorbed the rough pounding of their hearts. He’d said those words before and she still didn’t know what they meant—her brain couldn’t make the translation—but her body ached with pleasure and her heart recognized the inflection. While a part of her tried to hold back, to counsel caution, her core told her to take a chance. The biggest chance she’d ever taken in her life, but really the only one worth the gamble.
Putting her lips close to his ear, she whispered, “I love you too, Vidar.”
And she knew she’d been right when he thrust into her once more, crying out her name with undisguised joy, his body pulsing its release and taking her over the edge as well.
Chapter Ten
Vidar stood beside his bed, watching Jasmina sleep. She was lying on her stomach, partially wrapped in the sheets, firelight turning her golden skin bronze, the feather tattoos on her back seeming to flutter with each breath. Her beauty still astounded him, even after knowing her for two years—even after spending the last three days with her, making love, talking, laughing.
Yet more astounding was her declaration of love. Just remembering hearing the whispered words for the first time still had the ability to cover him with goose pimples. If he had his way he would stay here with her forever, but he knew that wasn’t a possibility. Eventually she’d go back to her life, and whatever she saw in him would fade. She’d probably been in love before. It wouldn’t be the same as it was for him—all-encompassing, elating and frightening at once.
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