Paying the Viking's Price

by Michelle Styles

  ‘Bird?’ She looked up at him and was lost in the blue-green pools that were his eyes. ‘You make me sound like some delicate creature. I am quite tough, I swear to you.’

  ‘Stop beating your wings against the cage. You’ll fly soon enough.’ He drew a finger down the side of her face and gave a half-smile. ‘You understand how to kiss properly now when you have lost a race, yes? You are a quick learner.’

  She nodded and knew she could tease a little. She leant back against the circle of his arms. ‘If that is all there is...I have given the kiss. The wager is finished. Perhaps we should consider returning to the hall. There is bound to be someone who requires your attention.’

  ‘Such a kiss deserves the appropriate response.’

  ‘Do I need more than one lesson?’

  ‘You need many lessons.’ His teeth caught her earlobe and tugged. The sensation was far more exciting than anything she’d experienced before. She had thought that somehow she could never experience pleasure from a man’s touch, but Brand had amply demonstrated how wrong she was.

  His hands tangled in her hair, releasing it from the headdress and sending it spilling out over her shoulders. He wrapped some of her hair about his hand and brought it to his lips.

  Burgeoning warmth swept through her, blotting everything else out. She wanted more from him than a kiss. She needed more. She wanted to feel his skin slide against hers. Her body arched towards him, seeking his heat. Her breasts ached with sudden heaviness. Out here with no one around, she felt reborn. Something stirred and awakened in her, making her feel beautiful and desirable for this man.

  ‘What is it you want?’ he rasped in her ear. ‘Tell me now.’

  ‘You,’ she answered, giving in to impulse and raising her hands to his face. Her fingers brushed his throat. It no longer gave her pause, but seemed an integral part of him. She pressed her lips to his scar and felt the solid thrum of his heart. ‘Please.’

  ‘You shall have me.’ He placed a kiss in the corner of her mouth. ‘Since you ask so politely.’

  He stepped away from her, took off his cloak and laid it on the spring grass before removing his tunic and shirt. His skin gleamed in the spring sunshine. She could see a network of white scars across his front and shoulders, a map of the hard life he’d led before coming into hers. He was a warrior in truth, barely tame despite his learning. She started as she saw the heavy gold cross.

  She put out her finger and touched it. ‘Where did you get this?’

  ‘A gift from the emperor for saving his life.’

  ‘Are you...?’ Her voice trailed away.

  ‘I have always found it best not to ask how a man prays or to which god, but how strong his sword arm is. The way I speak to my God is my business, certainly not some ignorant priest’s who can’t be bothered to learn Latin.’

  ‘I should’ve guessed when you said you could read.’

  ‘My mother was Irish and she used to tell me stories. My father believed in the old gods as did his wife. It was an easy choice.’

  ‘Was it?’ She couldn’t see how it could be.

  He laid his finger against her lips. ‘There are more important things to discuss.’

  He took off his trousers and she forgot how to breathe. His arousal sprung forth, declaring his desire for her.

  She took a step forwards and ran her hand down the warm pliable skin, feeling the hard muscle contract under her touch. Her fingertips traced the network of scars and indentations. She brushed the golden hair on his chest and his nipples contracted to hardened points. Each touch was more seductive than the last and she wanted to feel his skin against hers. Edith resisted the urge to smile. Her mother most definitely would not approve! But her body demanded the contact with him. Something which felt so right could hardly be wrong.

  His hands eased her back onto the cloak. The soft fur trim brushed the back of her neck, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.

  She lifted her hand to his face. The soft bristles brushed her palm. ‘And the next lesson is?’

  He gave a throaty laugh. ‘Allow me to see all of you. I’ve dreamt of you and the things we will do together. How good we will be.’

  He’d dreamt of her! And from his expression, it was easy to guess that his dreams had resulted in the same frustrated excitement that hers had.

  She reached her arms up and he pulled the gown off. Her undergarments swiftly followed. The spring breeze caressed her flesh, bringing an awareness of her nakedness.

  Her hands went over her breasts and groin, suddenly uncertain of what he might think. All the doubts she had about her body crowded back in. Her breasts were too small and her hips too large. She waited for him to turn away in disgust.

  He gently moved her hands to her sides. He gave a sharp intake of breath as his hot gaze roamed all over her, warming her far more than the sun ever could.

  ‘You are so beautiful, Edith,’ his low voice rasped. ‘Far more so than I imagined. I wish I could show how you look lying against the redness of the cloak with your dark hair spilling out over your creamy flesh.’

  Edith’s cheeks burnt and she turned her face away. ‘Should I believe your flattery?’

  ‘You need to see my appreciation? Very well, it shall be done.’

  He bent his head and caught one of her nipples, suckled, wrapping his tongue about it and turning it into a hardened point. He repeated the exercise with the other breast while his fingers toyed with the nipple he’d just suckled. Her body arched off the ground. A thousand lights burst inside her.

  His mouth slowly travelled down the length of her, leaving a trail of fire behind. She knew she should be ashamed of her response, but it no longer mattered what was acceptable, all that mattered was what he did to her body and how he played it as the finest bards play a lute, coaxing and demanding a reaction.

  Her body arched off the cloak when his mouth touched the apex of her thighs and his tongue found her inner core. Deep within the heat exploded and circled outwards.

  ‘What was that for?’ she asked after her senses stopped reeling and she found him propped up on one elbow watching her.

  ‘Next time,’ he growled, cupping her cheek with a surprisingly gentle hand. ‘Don’t belittle yourself. It doesn’t become you. Now are you prepared to accept the compliment? You in the flesh are a thousand times better than you in a dream.’

  ‘I’ll think on it.’ She gave a throaty laugh which he joined in. It felt good to be laughing, with her skin touching his. She’d never thought of a man joining with a woman as a time for humour and teasing, but with him it was. And that made it all the better.

  She buried her hands in his long dark blond hair, pulling his face to her, making it a curtain about them. ‘Is that an order?’

  He nipped her chin. ‘You may take it as such.’

  He moved his hips and the tip of his erection pressed against her. Her body opened and welcomed him in. She wrapped her legs about him and pulled tighter. The length of him slipped in and filled her with pulsating warmth.

  Always before when this moment of joining came, she had resisted and tried to lie as still as possible, thinking of other things. Now she welcomed it. Her hips began to move, urging him to delve deeper and harder. Wave after wave of sensation crashed over her. Each time, she seemed to be lifted up to greater heights. Finally a great shuddering engulfed her.

  * * *

  Brand watched Edith sleep, a tiny crease between her brows and her dark red lips faintly puckered as her long dark hair flowed over them both. He hadn’t intended for this to happen when he suggested the ride. But he refused to be sorry. Already his body wanted to be with her again. This time in a warm bed, rather than on the cold ground. With plenty of time to truly explore all the facets of her. He hadn’t lied when he said she was better than he’d dreamt. There was something about
her, a bit like one of the mosaics he’d admired in Constantinople—the closer you were to it, the more intricate it became and the more you wanted to study it.

  He smoothed a strand of dark hair away from her alabaster forehead. It amazed him that Edith was so confident in so many ways, but with lovemaking she was timid until she forgot herself and allowed her passion to take over. Her passionate response had been more than worth waiting for.

  Brand stared up at the clouds skittering past. What did he want in his ordered life? Before Edith, he thought he knew his life’s path, but now with her, he appeared to have taken a detour. Detours were fraught with problems. He’d learnt that lesson a long time ago. He knew what was important in his life and why he wanted it. His long-term future did not include this Saxon lady.

  ‘Time to wake up, beauty,’ he said more abruptly than he intended. ‘We have tarried too long here as it is.’

  Her eyes blinked. Her mouth trembled slightly. She stretched her arms over her head. His body reacted instantly. Desire, pure and simple. He’d be wrong to think more of it.

  ‘I didn’t mean to sleep,’ she said, drawing her knees up to her chest.

  ‘After that exercise, I’m far from surprised.’ He ran a hand down her flank. He watched her nipples contract and knew she wanted more of him as well. ‘Passion can tire you out.’

  She sat up abruptly. Her black hair covered her like a veil, hiding her expression. ‘It never has before. Normally my head spins with thoughts.’

  ‘You’ve never been with me before.’ He drew her back into his arms. He wanted to destroy all traces of the man she’d been married to, who had done this to her and imprisoned her spirit so she was afraid to show her passionate nature. When she forgot herself, the passion crackled from her fingertips. ‘There is the difference.’

  ‘I...I suppose so.’

  ‘I know so.’ He pressed his lips against her temple and attempted to control his temper. He wanted to run his sword through her husband for doing this to her. ‘Was he that rough with you? How often did he beat you?’

  She looked up at him. ‘How...how did you know he beat me?’

  He touched the silver scar on her shoulder. ‘I assume this did not come by accident.’

  ‘Egbert was a violent man.’ She gave a sad smile. ‘If you believe my cousin, it turns out that he saved his violence for me. He couldn’t stand the fact that I was more intelligent than he. He used to mock my reading habits and my love of music.’

  A jealous anger swept through Brand. ‘Did he share your bed?’

  ‘I always had to go to his.’

  ‘The one I now sleep in.’

  ‘Yes.’ The word hissed from her lips. ‘But it stopped...after I lost our baby. It was then the real violence started.’

  ‘I’m sorry. You don’t have to speak of it.’

  ‘I must.’ Her throat worked up and down. ‘I want you to understand why he said I was not a true woman. It was his fault. He beat me because I pointed out a tafl move he should have made.’

  Brand wished he could kill Egbert slowly, piece by piece. Hitting a woman was bad enough, but to hit a pregnant woman was completely unconscionable. The worst thing was that he knew Egbert had died too quickly and without suffering. The only thing he’d wanted that day was to defend Sven against the treachery of the Northumbrians. He could not even say that it was his sword. He knew what Halfdan thought, but for his part, he could not be sure.

  ‘It is good he is dead or otherwise I’d kill him.’ He lifted her chin so she could look him in the eyes. ‘A true warrior fights other warriors, not women or children. It is part of my creed. He also keeps his word and defends the others in his felag.’

  She watched him for a long time, her throat working up and down. Finally she looked away.

  ‘I could never forgive him. Ever, no matter what the priest said,’ she whispered.

  ‘You know my feelings about that man.’

  She wrapped her arms about her waist and shuddered. ‘It makes it easier to know that. It helps. Thank you.’

  His heart contracted. He hated to think how she must have felt waiting for him that first night. He reached over and kissed her forehead.

  ‘Shall we make new memories there or shall I come to you?’

  Her eyes swam. ‘I don’t understand what you are saying.’

  ‘The wooing is over, Edith.’ He put his hand on her shoulder. ‘You are now my concubine in truth. We will sleep together from now on...for as long as I have need of you.’

  She scrambled out of his arms and dressed rapidly. Her head spun. She had been so stupid. She had never thought about the consequences. She had considered they had put all that nonsense behind them. Brand hadn’t. She’d been very naive.

  ‘Your concubine?’ she squeaked when she had her clothes on. Brand, she noticed, made no move to cover his nakedness. He appeared to be totally at peace with it.

  ‘After what we shared, you hardly think I want only one time? It is not in my nature to sneak around.’

  ‘But...but...I thought... Did I please you?’

  ‘It went beyond pleasure.’

  She tried to form her thoughts into a coherent train rather than the chaotic jumble. The one thing that sang through loud and clear was that far from being a failure at this, she had succeeded. Brand wanted her as a man wants a woman. Egbert had been wrong. She was capable of being feminine and pleasing a man.

  She had never dreamt that such sensation was possible. It had all been about finding the right man.

  Her stomach churned. Neither was there some sudden offer of marriage. She had known that before she gave her body to Brand and it would be useless to pretend otherwise. She had become a fallen lady in truth.

  ‘There’ll be no need to sneak or hide,’ she said slowly. ‘I will share your bed. It is the person who counts, not the object.’

  Chapter Nine

  ‘There you are, Edith. I’ve been searching everywhere for you.’ Hilda came up to Edith in their now shared bedchamber after she had washed her face and changed from her ride. ‘You are seldom where I want you these days. You always seem to be busy with him.’

  ‘I went out riding with Brand,’ Edith answered and hoped her colour wasn’t too high. She took one last look at the bed. Did she tell Hilda now or later that she would not be sharing it with her tonight? Her body ached in places that she had not dreamt possible and her lips remained pleasantly swollen. Even now, she fancied she could feel the rasp of his bristled chin against her flesh.

  She wanted to hug the time they had shared to her bosom. It was like some time out of mind. She had never dreamt such things were possible. She felt truly connected to Brand as if they had become one person. She knew it was a good thing, no matter what anyone might say. And some day, who knew if they remained compatible, he might decide to make her his life’s companion?

  ‘Only riding?’

  Edith turned to her trunk and lifted the lid. She forced her hands to start rearranging the combs, anything to stop them from covering her cheeks. ‘Brand wanted to visit the outlying farms.’

  Hilda stamped her foot. ‘Brand took you riding. I know. Everyone spoke about it. They wagered on you coming off, but I told Starkad that you ride better than most men. Never wager against my cousin, I said. You were gone a long time. It is nearly supper time.’

  ‘Brand enjoyed it.’ Edith chose her words with care. ‘So we stayed out later than he’d planned. I think we will be repeating it soon.’

  Edith moved the combs back to their original place as Hilda started a long litany of why carts were superior to horses and why she never rode, how her day had gone and a variety of complaints. Edith listened with half an ear while her mind started to spin dreams. What if they married? It was the best option. They were compatible and she knew the estate. Their
children could inherit. The thought took her breath away. Their children. She pushed the thought away. It was far too soon. She wasn’t even sure how she felt about him except he made her feel alive. She had been dead inside for so long.

  Hilda waved a hand in front of Edith’s eyes. ‘Have you listened to a word I’ve been saying? Or are you wool-gathering?’

  ‘Of course,’ Edith replied, frantically trying to recall Hilda’s last remark. ‘Brand is a different sort of man to my late husband. He sees me as a challenge rather than an affront.’

  ‘I’m pleased.’ Hilda put her hands on her head. ‘I can’t begin to tell you how much I feared that something had happened to you and that I’d have to cope with this on my own. Pay attention, Edith. This is important, far more important than what happened on your ride.’

  ‘We are both experienced riders. You should have known that I’d return. The hall hasn’t burnt down,’ Edith explained, trying to work out Hilda’s perplexed expression. What business of hers was it how long she took? It wasn’t as if she’d disappeared for the entire day. They were only gone a few hours. ‘We rode out to Owen the Plough’s and the matter has been satisfactorily resolved. Besides, their women are not supposed to be quiet. He is used to women arguing.’

  ‘Their women? You belong to him now?’ Hilda regarded her closely. ‘Truly? I had thought...that is...’

  ‘Everyone has been talking about it. I refuse to be mealy-mouthed. I’m his concubine, Hilda. His woman.’

  Edith marvelled that she could call herself his woman. But it seemed natural. And she hated lying. It would get easier. Soon everyone would know that they were sharing a bed. There again, they thought it had already happened on the first night. She had finally done what she declared she would.

  Hilda linked her arm with Edith’s. Her face became utterly grave. ‘It could not happen at a better time. You are going to need to have him in a good mood. We all are. You remember we heard that everyone died in the rebellion? They didn’t. Not all of them.’