“You said she feels this fear when someone she loves goes to battle.”
She smiled. “It is what she told me.”
He couldn’t help but return it. “Then I’ll have to reassure her, won’t I? If I can wake her up. I know too well about your herbs.”
“I gave it to her earlier today, so she should be fine once she wakes. Though I imagine the sight of you will cure her better than any herb.”
“Take care of my men. Eirik is below helping organize the wounded.”
She gave him a little push toward the weaving room. “We have dealt with men coming home from battle before, Rorik. Don’t worry about us. Go to her. We won’t need you until morning.”
He wanted to tell her it wasn’t that way between them, and might never be. But she walked away as the first of the wounded men was carried in on a shield. He crossed to the weaving room door and looked inside.
Elfwynn was asleep at the loom. But it wasn’t the one with the sail. The cloth was of a darker gray color, very expensive and fine. The sail didn’t look like she’d worked on it at all. She’d wanted to finish it as soon as possible so as to leave here. Did this mean she didn’t want to go?
He went to her. Her cheeks were damp, as though she still wept in her sleep and his chest tightened. With great care, he picked her up, trying not to awaken her, and carried her through the longhouse to her room. More men had been brought in and the healers were busy unwrapping bandages and cutting away bloodstained clothing. They were in the best hands imaginable.
The chamber was dark, but with the light coming through the doorway, he found the bed and laid her down. He went out to the hearth and lit a lamp, brought it into the room, then paused. Should he just leave and let her sleep? Or should he let her know he was there?
After all the death and blood and pain, he needed to hear her voice, even if she got angry with him for being in here alone with her.
“Elfwynn.” He sat beside her and touched her face, stroking her soft skin. It felt damp from her tears. “Wake up, little Christian.”
She stirred, and opened her beautiful eyes. Dreams still drifted there, but then she focused on him and a soft smile came to her lips. With the love he saw, it might well be that he was the one who dreamed now. If that was so, he never wanted to awaken.
* * *
“You’re safe.” She laid her hand on his chest, just to feel if he existed or not. In the past days, she’d heard his voice in the place that lay between waking and sleeping. She scarcely dared to breathe for fear she was still dreaming. Now, he was hard and solid and so very real.
He took her hand and kissed the palm. “The gods granted us victory.”
“And the rest of your family?”
“Odin smiled on all of us.” He chuckled as she narrowed her eyes at him. “And I suppose you’ll say your god had something to do with it, as well.”
“He did if He heard my prayers.” She looked away, her cheeks heating.
He turned her face back to him. “Why would you have prayed for me, Elfwynn? You knew if I died, Magnus or Eirik would have taken you back home. And why haven’t you worked on the sail? You weave a different piece of cloth now.”
“I’m weaving it for a shirt for you.” She looked toward the lamp, anywhere but into his sharp eyes. “I got bored with plain white, coarse wool. I wanted to do something different. I still have a long way to go with the sail, so I didn’t think a few days one way or the other would matter.”
“Are you quite certain that’s the reason?” He leaned over her, his gaze boring into her.
“What other reason could there be?” She tried to retreat into her pillow, but there was no escape.
“Perhaps that you didn’t want to finish it so soon. Perhaps because you don’t want to leave after all.” He looked at her mouth, his steel-colored eyes darkening.
“I—I have to return home.” Her pounding heart made it hard to think straight. Or was it his clean, wild scent?
“Do you?” He was so close, his breath and hers were one.
She gave a tiny nod, unable to speak for his closeness and her own sudden uncertainty. Northumbria was so very far away now. In more ways than just distance.
“Tell me once, Elfwynn, and I’ll never ask again. Can you leave me? Can you leave this?”
He closed the tiny distance between their lips and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he gathered her to him. His ebony hair fell like the night around them and she combed her fingers through it. It was still damp, so he must have just washed it, and its coolness soothed the heat building within her.
His possession was complete and she gave in to it, letting herself relax in his grip. Surrendering to him. Tightening his hold on her, he took her mouth as he took everything in his world, with certainty and confidence. With the knowledge that he had every right to what he wanted. It was what she desired, as well, and she told him without words as she answered his kiss.
He ran his hand over her breast. It sent fire throughout her body and she leaned into his touch. He could do this with just a brush of his fingers. If they came together, skin to skin, body to body, what else could he do to her? Taking his hand in hers, she pressed it to her breast and met his questioning gaze without retreating as she had so often. To not step one foot from the challenge that he was. She smiled at him. He took a shuddering breath, closing his eyes.
A slight smile, filled with regret, touched his lips. “I should go, little Christian. If I were to stay—”
She cupped his face in her hands. “Stay.”
His brows knitted together. “Do you know what you’re asking?”
“Yes, Rorik. I do.”
He straightened, bringing her with him. “Do you know what might come of this?”
“No. All that is certain is that we have this night. I have seen how quickly life can fade. None of us can say we have tomorrow. As a warrior, you know we must take what we can, while we can.”
“And as a warrior, if I take you, I may not let you go.” He kissed her again and got off the bed. His gaze never leaving hers, he pulled off his tunic.
Her blood heated. She looked into his eyes and he gave her a knowing smile as he slipped off his trousers and silk shirt. His hard chest and chiseled abdomen gleamed in the soft lamplight. Soon, he would wrap that strength around her.
Standing like the warrior he was, he allowed her to drink in the sight of him. The old scars and the new partially healed wounds on his body only accentuated his power, signs of his prowess in battle. His erection was already hard and heavy. Warmth blossomed between her legs. With his long black hair and the strength he exuded from every part of his body, he was like one of his gods come to earth. But he was no mere god. He was hers, if only for this night.
He took her hands and helped her stand. He was so tall she barely came to the base of his throat. With a gentle hand, he unfastened the brooches holding her gown and tossed them aside. He unwrapped her dress. She stood before him clad in only her linen shift. Unable to stop herself, she crossed her arms in front of her, guarding what was left of her heart.
“If you ever want to wear this again, it will have to come off. It won’t protect you and I can’t promise what it will look like if you don’t.” He untied the string of the neckline. Heat rose into her face as he lifted it over her head. This was so new. He was so new. Awe touched her, knowing that such a man would want her.
Raising her arms to cover herself, she bowed her head, mortified that she should be standing here, naked before him. He took her hands and lowered them to her sides. Still holding them, he gazed at her. She tried to pull away, but he didn’t allow it.
“Don’t think to hide your beauty from me, Elfwynn. It is nothing I haven’t seen before in my dreams of you.”
She gave him a sharp look and he smiled. Women all over the known world had melted at that smile. She was not immune. Not anymore. A sensation of wanting, of needing, shot through her.
He must have sensed it,
for he guided her to the bed and laid her down. As he drew her under him, his hardness lay along her thigh. Kissing her, he cupped both her breasts in his hands, thumbing their tips. Fire swelled deep inside her. She gasped, arching up toward him.
“So beautiful and so passionate.” He nipped her throat and she writhed beneath him. He was like the storm. Primal, dangerous, and yet one couldn’t help but watch it, caught up in the wind as it whipped past. Lowering his mouth to her breast, he took it as his. His tongue rasped her skin. She wrapped her arms around his neck, crying out her need as she held him to her.
He lifted his head and his deep, commanding voice streamed into her. “You taste like the finest wine from the south. In nights to come, I’ll pour it over your body and drink it from your skin.”
Oh, Lord. Her hips surged forward toward his erection. She tilted her head back, offering herself to him to take as he pleased. Caging his arms around her to hold her upward, he kissed his way down her body.
“Mine, always.” He slid his hands to her hips, tasting and nipping her, paying careful attention to her inner thighs as he spread them, and her most private place.
He could kiss her there? She clutched the bedding to hold herself in the real world as he parted her folds with his mouth, his wide shoulders keeping her legs open for him. The muscles deep within her, that she didn’t even know she had, relaxed under his tongue. His mouth was hot and wicked, seductive and magical. Warmth spread throughout her and she grew weak, unable to move her legs. Grabbing his hair, she moaned. He could kiss her there anytime he wanted.
Then he left her and she almost yanked his hair in frustration. But he only nibbled her flat stomach and sensitive ribs, then tasted her arms and shoulders, his teeth scraping her skin as he stretched himself over her again.
Holding her with his gaze, he pressed his fingers into her, piercing her deep inside. She jumped and tried to wriggle away.
“Stay with me, Elfwynn. I only want to make this easier on you. When we truly come together, I want there to be pleasure for both of us. This way, the worst will be over.”
She quieted, but as he moved his hand there was a tiny pinch, then a driving hunger built in her core. She needed him. It was all she knew. He withdrew his hand, leaving her wanting something. More. Wrapping her legs around him, she tilted her hips up to him. He took her hands in his and held them down beside her head.
“We have all night, Elfwynn.”
“Don’t you dare make me wait until morning. I won’t survive it.” She tried to pull her hands from his, but he didn’t allow it. Still, the inferno built inside her and, with desire driving her, she bit his shoulder. Hard.
He reared up, much of his weight on the hands that held hers. It didn’t hurt. The bed was soft beneath them and gave under the pressure. His gaze burned down upon her, but she raised her chin and met it with defiance. She wanted to scream with frustration, but she wouldn’t give him that weapon.
“Obstinate, aren’t you?”
“You’ve known that since the day we met.”
He stared down at her for a moment, then a corner of his mouth twitched. Finally, he laughed. “Then don’t let me arouse that infamous temper of yours. There are more pleasant things I’d rather arouse.” His voice was as warm as the richest wine and it poured into her. Still holding her hands, he slid into her in one smooth motion.
She tensed. It should hurt, but it didn’t. He had spoken the truth and made it as easy for her as he could.
He held still. “Are you all right?”
“I will be. Now.” She gave him a pointed look.
Lowering himself onto her, he released her hands and held her shoulders. She was more than ready and met his thrusts with her own urgency. Heat lightning spread out in her, as in a distant storm. His hair flowed down around them both, like the darkness of that tempest, and his eyes were the color of the swirling clouds.
“Look at me, Elfwynn.” He held her in his gaze as he moved. Her muscles tightened along his length, something within her clenching.
He slowed, and she almost bit him again as the pressure soared inside her.
“Say you’re mine. Every part of you. Mine.”
She gripped his arms, unable to deny him. “Yes. Everything. Yours.” For now, at least.
He slammed into her. Her mind fractured and he held her as she flew, her entire world quaking. Then he withdrew and found his own release. Collapsing onto her, he kissed her shoulder. They lay together, his weight still on her, but she welcomed it. It kept her from flying away forever. He shifted off of her and she missed his solid warmth. But he held her to him, her head on his chest as their breathing slowed.
“Is it always like this?” She lifted her head to look at him.
“No. But I’m willing to do all I can to find out if it will be so between us.” He sent her a weak grin and she gave him a light hit on his shoulder. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it.
The sleepless days and little food took their toll on her and she closed her eyes, snuggling against him. He tossed the soiled covers onto the floor, pulled the furs over them, and settled her in his arms.
Then she remembered. “There’s only one lamp lit in here. I know you like many of them when you sleep. Is it too dark for you?”
“Not with you here beside me. You’re all the light I need. Now and always.” He kissed her hair and relaxed against her.
Opening her eyes, she watched him drift into sleep. There wouldn’t be an always for them. Just this time. He spoke as though they had a future, but they didn’t. Even if she didn’t have Wulf and her mother at home, and wanted to stay with him, it was all too clear what it would be like. He raided and fought. It was his way of life. At times, he was gone for weeks, perhaps even all summer. She wouldn’t survive it. Look what it had done to her this time, and he had been gone only a bit over a week.
No. This would have to end when the sail was finished. He’d made certain there wouldn’t be a child. If he hadn’t done that, and she did conceive, it would bind her to him as surely as chains would. She understood him well enough to know he’d never let his heir leave, and she’d certainly never part with her babe.
As it was, when the time came, she’d return home to her mother, and together, they’d go to where they could finally find peace, away from the men who could never return their love.
* * *
What had she done?
Elfwynn buried her head in the pillow, not wanting to face the world, a world that was very different now. She’d been with a Northman. Not just any Northman. Rorik of Vargfjell. The most powerful, most feared, and now, the richest of all of them. With this victory, people would flock to him, and not just warriors. They’d bring their sisters and daughters, all Norse, so many of them blonde and beautiful and strong. Just what he liked, and not what she was.
A gentle hand turned her over and she opened her eyes. He moved on top of her and greeted her with a soft kiss, then worked his way down her throat. Tilting her head back, she gave herself up to him as he nipped the inside curve of her breast.
He raised his head and smiled down at her. “Good morning to you. At least, I think it’s morning. By the light, though, it may be later than we think.”
“You needed the sleep, I’m certain.”
“And so did you, I hear. Lifa said you were afraid while we were gone. A fear comes on you when someone you love is fighting.”
She shouldn’t have said anything. But Lifa was so comforting and easy to speak to, when she’d asked about why she was trembling and not eating, she’d told her.
“It was just the uncertainty. I’ve grown to know many of you. It upset me to think any of you were in danger.”
“That’s not what you told my aunt. You said ‘love’.” He held her gaze. “Love.”
She shook her head. “It makes no difference, Rorik. You’re safe now and I still must leave when I’m finished with the sail.”
“Even after last night, you insist on leaving?”
Putting his weight on his elbows, he cupped her face in his hands.
“My mother and Wulf don’t even know I’m all right. I cannot let that continue. As much as I miss them, I know they’re alive.” She paused. “At least, I think they are. My mother may have pined away for me and Wulf may have died searching for me or in a battle.”
“And what if I were to send a ship there with a message that you live and are well? Can you write?”
“Yes.” She smiled up at him. “In our society, there’s little difference in the education of men and women. My father thought we all should know how to read and write so no one could take advantage of us. He believes in improving the mind as well as the body so as to be prepared to face this world.”
“A wise man, even if he is a bastard. Still, if you were to write to them and I had it taken there, would they know it was from you? We don’t usually have the things you write with in other parts of the world, but I’ve taken them in raids over the years. You could include something that only you would remember. Then at least, they’d have that relief.”
Could that work? Where she had been harboring a dark, nagging concern for those at home, now a tiny flicker of light grew in her. But there was still the matter of his leaving for raiding and war. And the inevitable women. She wasn’t going to lie to herself about her ability to hold his interest. There were too many beautiful women in the world. And he’d be traveling that world.
“Let me think on it.” One thing at a time. If he sent a message, it would, at least, buy her some time to decide. But was it her decision? “You hold all the power here, Rorik. If you want me to stay, you have but to say it. It would be as you please.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “No. It will be as you please. Though if you want me to take the decision from you, I will.” Raising his head to look at her, he moved his hands to hers and curled his fingers through hers. “I could tell you that you’re mine and that I’ll never let you leave me. I could keep you whether you willed it or not.”
Lord of the Seas Page 24
