by Lexy Timms
His voice stopped her. "Wait. Please. Lizbeth, right? No, that’s not it.” His English accent sounded foreign and unique at the same time. He tried her name again. “Lins, Liz, Linzi! Linzi,” he said it a second time, letting the name roll off his tongue. “I'm Erik. Please. I need to bathe as well. My wounds… I'm just not sure I can walk to the showers."
She looked over her shoulder, her hand high on the doorframe as she turned, leaning into the stretch. He was right about one thing, he wasn't fully capable of doing anything. "You were harmless when lost to pain." She was having doubts about keeping him in the house. Her father could wake any moment. The sooner the Saxon left, the better.
He tried to stand again, only to fall back on the bed with an angry grunt. "I'm rather useless, rest assured. I’ll not harm you in any way. I wouldn't want your master upset with me. I simply need a place to stay for a few days to gain my strength. Then I’ll be on my way."
"Look, Erik.” It annoyed her he thought she was a servant. Some hired working girl. “The only master I have is in heaven, so quit referring to me like that." She huffed at him, walking over and sliding one arm around his waist, pulling his muscled arm over her shoulder. He stunk and would make the house putrid if she didn't help him bathe.
That, and seeing him naked would be a treat she couldn't even put words to.
"All you had to do was say so."
"I just did." Maybe he’d hit his head a couple times while riding injured on his horse.
"I'm aware of that, but you could have said something before getting upset with my assumptions." He helped pull himself up, his face turning pale.
She forgot her annoyance and moved closer, supporting almost all of his weight on her small frame. She wrapped a small wool blanket over his hips, keeping her eyes averted as she did so. "Don't overdo it. I carried your sorry butt up here once. I'm not doing it again. You will sleep where you fall. I promise."
“Then I shall hope it’s not in a puddle of muddy water.” A smile touched his lips, followed by a soft chuckle as they started to walk toward the front of the house.
She stopped by the kitchen, carefully lowering him to the bench by the table.
"Let me get us a towel and check on my Da’. Then we can go."
He nodded, probably not understanding a word she said.
She walked quickly to the small cloth cupboard by the pantry, grabbing the last two towels. She sighed with relief that there was more than one. She hated running out of towels, which meant running through the woods naked or having to go without a bath – both horrid experiences. She had used her cut up nightgown to tend to his wounds. She would have to wash them later tonight. She stuck her finger to her lips and pointed down the hall. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered before moving to her father's room. She touched his chest to ensure he was still breathing and not boiling again.
One pill sat on his nightstand and his color looked much better. She thought for a moment about offering the pill to Erik but remembered the witchdoctor's words. He needed all of them himself if he were to fully recover.
She walked back into the kitchen, only to find Erik trying to get up and failing to do so. He knocked a chair over in the process. Creating a racket that could wake the dead.
She rushed beside him as he muttered an apology, the tone of his voice leaving something to be desired surrounding the truth of his words. “Me Da’ doesn’t know yer here.” She couldn’t believe he hadn’t woken from the noise the stranger had managed to make. She maneuvered the two of them through the kitchen door, the light of the moon bathing them as they hobbled away from the house.
The soft babble of water from the creek just beyond the house beckoned them. “Will you make it? I can pull water from the well otherwise.”
"I will. Otherwise roll me in the direction of the water.” He chuckled. “I apologize for having to ask you to help me. I should think my legs will be back under me tomorrow. The wounds look good. Shall I assume you cleaned and took care of me?" He looked over at her, his head tilted down, creating shadows on his high cheekbones.
The regality of his appearance stole her breath, her body housing the strongest shudder she remembered ever feeling. "Yes," she whispered and turned her attention to the ground before them, feigning her attention to their steps. She wasn't practiced with talking with men much and though she was quite confident in her own right, this man wasn't a blacksmith's son or a baker's boy – he was a warrior. His strong arms and chest showed the signs of swinging a sword all day long.
"Thank you, Linzi." Her name sounded right on his tongue, his voice littered with the pain of trying to balance and not lean too much on her. The blanket tied around his waist tangled around his knees, the idea of a kilt apparently foreign to him, making it even more difficult to walk. He cursed as his foot caught a small bump in the grass.
Linzi leaned in front of him to keep him from falling. He grabbed ahold of her, his arms strong and tight around her neck. He closed his eyes, the long lashes he was blessed with catching her attention.
"Apologies. My damn body doesn't seem to want to cooperate. I’m most likely rotting from the inside.” He inhaled and grimaced. “By the smell of me, I’m sure I am.”
"No, you’re not rotting.” She laughed despite her weariness. “It’s just blood loss. Food will help. I'm not sure how you will stand in the creek though." She moved back to his side, reaching over carefully to lay her arm around his broad waist. She didn’t want to press against the wound slowly healing on his back.
"I can float in the water. If you could be so kind as to help me get down into it."
She nodded, her mind buzzing with the situation presented. Never in a million years would she have thought men as handsome as the one hanging on to her existed. Not only didn't they exist, but now she got to see him awake, fully naked and possibly be asked to help bathe him. A smiled touched her lips as they stopped at the edge of the water. She shivered, not from the cold.
"How do we want to do this?" he asked, turning toward her, his knees nearly buckling.
Linzi shifted, his arms resting on her shoulders as she held him around the waist. His chest muscles twitched, the night's wind brushing through the small alcove. She hated to get her underclothes wet in the lake, but she was not going to undress in front of him and then stand nude. It was not going happen. “Let's walk slowly down into the water together. The bank drops sharply at one point. You’ll have to pull the blanket off you as it's the only one we have for your bed tonight."
"You're letting me stay in the house?"
"Of course. You can take my bed and I'll take Kenton's."
"Who’s Kenton?” His voice rose with jealous suspicion.
It nearly made her smile, until she thought of her brother and the possibility of the man before her taking her brother’s life with his sword.
“Is he at war?" he asked when she didn’t answer.
"Aren’t we all?” She snorted. “Thanks to your people." He could find his own way in the creek, fall in for all she cared. She turned from him, repositioning, and took a step toward the water's edge. She felt the slight tug on the inside of her elbow. Why she paused, she did not know.
Erik did not say anything. He just slipped his arm through hers and shuffled slowly, a step behind her. He paused a moment as the blanket slipped from his hips.
Linzi, still a step in front of him, lifted her eyes skyward as she dropped the towels on the ground. She scolded herself for being so silly. She’d seen him lying naked on her bed and bathed his body when she’d brought him in. However, she couldn’t stop her eyes from traveling where they wanted to. She lifted the hem of her slip as they stepped into the water. She let it fall, realizing it would be no help up against her thighs. The warm liquid slipped up over her calves, thighs and hips before she turned toward him.
Erik slipped down into the water and let only his head hover above it, his massive arms moving subtly to keep him afloat. "The bank did drop quickly. Thank you for the war
ning.” He let the liquid splash against his face before bringing his head up again. “The water is warm. Feels so good against my skin."
She nodded, looking toward the shore. "I forgot the soap by the towels. Are you going to be okay if I get it?"
"I'm good," he muttered, turning away from her. Linzi moved back up to the shore, reaching for the soap and double-checking to be sure he was still turned before pulling her under clothes over her head. She covered her breasts and walked back toward him quickly, grateful for the coverage of the water.
He turned when the water rippled against him as she neared.
She slipped under the surface, pushing up and enjoying the moment. Her feet touched the sandy bottom. She wiped her hands on the soap and gave it to him before scrubbing her fingers in her hair.
He took it and carefully rubbed his hands together, his face lost in the shadows. She ignored him and enjoyed the soft scrub of her fingers on her scalp, the wind had blown dust and dirt into her hair and now it felt ridiculously good to have it clean.
A soft growl grabbed her attention. "What it is?" She moved toward him, leaving a comfortable distance between them.
"I can't get my left arm up to wash my hair. I swear I'm going to gut the bastard that did this to me."
She moved behind him in the water, taking the soap and letting out a soft breath, her stomach in knots. "Go under briefly and get it wet. I'll hold you to make sure you come back up.”
"Is Kenton your husband?" He looked over his shoulder when she laughed sardonically.
"My brother. I should drown you for that."
Chapter 4
Erik
He didn't have time to respond, the beautiful girl behind him wrapping him in a tight hug before dragging him under the water with her. He relaxed against her, the soft press of her breasts causing him to moan under the water’s reprieve. She pulled him up, Erik beyond frustrated with his sudden handicap. The water made him feel weightless until he tried to stand.
If his legs didn't work in the morning, he would lose his mind. For tonight, he would just press the thoughts away that drove him toward madness. He should simply try to enjoy the comfort of this beautiful woman who had every right to kill him, and yet hadn’t.
He moved his arms, turning to look at her, the long silky strands of her red hair dancing on the top of the water's edge, begging for his fingers to touch them. Her eyes were filled with innocence, her demeanor tough only because she seemed to be alone with no one but apparently a sick father to care for her. He had gathered that much from the way she hurried to the man’s room earlier. His heart ached at her plight, but his emotions lay deep before his facade of indifference. "So your brother went to fight the horrible Saxons, and what of your father? Is he elderly?"
A smile touched her mouth, the tilt of her head telling him quickly that she wasn't going to be easy to get along with. She was clever, probably very smart. He almost enjoyed the challenge she would present more than the way his body reacted to the feminine curves of her near perfect figure. She might be treated as a girl in a home of two men, but she was well into maturity, the perfect slope of her breasts and hips leaving everything to be desired. If he wasn’t so weak…
"Turn around. Let's get this bath over with. I need to get back to my father. It's already late. The morning will come calling soon and I need some rest myself before it does. Two sick men and the fields to tend to, the animals and, of course, the house, and food."
He nodded and turned, the desire to look over his shoulder at her overriding the pain that laced his chest as his arms moved. He would have to think through what happened before the world dimmed, but for now, he would leave it be. It had been far too long since he felt the touch of a woman in any capacity. He wanted to revel in it under the false pretense of being weak and tired. He would leave tomorrow, but for tonight... he would simply be a man without responsibility. He wondered how she managed. She worked hard, he could see that from the subtle curve in the muscles in her arms and legs, but she also had this incredible femininity about her. He felt himself grow hard underneath the water and tried to force his thoughts away. She might not appreciate the effect she had on him. He grinned at the night sky. He was only a man. What else would be expected; in the water, under the moonlight with a naked goddess of fire-red hair offering to wash him?
Her fingernails brushed over his short hair, the tingles rushing from her touch down his neck and shoulders, his teeth clamping together to keep his groan on his tongue.
"What happened to cause you to be lying half dead in my field? Did you upset my brother?"
He could hear the teasing in her voice, trying to make her question light. He closed his eyes, his fingers itching to reach back and pull her flush against him again, to touch the silky wet skin of her leg or the curve of her backside. "Someone shot two arrows into my chest. I must have blacked out. I do remember coming to long enough to remove them, but that's all." He turned his head to the side, Linzi running her short nails down the side of his neck and moving with him as he bid her due.
"I find it hard to believe you were unable to stop them.” She cleared her throat, apparently embarrassed she was referring to his strength. “Why didn't the men that meant to kill you, finish you off? No Englishman or Scot would leave you half dead, especially on the land of a simple farmer. We protect one another." How did you escape? The unspoken question hung in the air.
"It wasn't the enemy, but a friend." He captured her wrist with his hand, turning to face her and putting it on his cheek. "Wash my face for me." He closed his eyes, the soft panting of her breath so close, almost driving him mad. He didn’t want to talk of betrayal. It hurt more than his wounds.
How long had it been since he'd made love to a woman? The better part of a year at least. He hoped tonight would break the cursed spell, but he'd not force himself on anyone. He let his hands slip into the water, brushing by his wound and flinching.
She moved away from him, her breath catching from what he could hear.
He kept his eyes shut tightly, the soap on his face thick and heavy.
"Did I hurt you?" she whispered.
"No, tis the wounds on my stomach. Just a bit more sensitive than I thought." He relaxed as she moved toward him, the water splashing against his chest. She finished washing his face and he dunked his head under the water to rinse the soap free. He set his feet on the sand and pebbles below and straightened slowly so the water could carry his lower weight without tiring him. The water came up to just above his navel. He reached up to wipe the remaining water off his face, blinking a few times to clear his vision.
She stood before him, the water lapping gently across the top of her breasts, the perfect fullness of her mouth drawing his attention. He realized what he was doing as her fists pressed against his chest, his hand behind her back as he drew her in.
"Erik! What are you doing?"
"I want to kiss you."
"W-Why?"
He laughed, the sound easing out of his tattered soul, the world looking very different on the other side of treachery. "Because you’re beautiful, and all I've seen is dead and hate for three years. I apologize in advance." He brushed his lips ever so lightly against hers and then quickly released her and moved back. He lowered his body into the water and lay on his back, looking up at the moon and stars, letting the peace the gods offered him give him a rest. "Wash up and we’ll head back. You need to sleep. I promise to behave properly.” He sighed, refusing to glance her way as much as his body begged him to. “I shall be out of your hair tomorrow."
She didn't reply but busied herself moving her hands about her body, his mind crowded with the various places she touched, his chest burning with desire, his stomach tight with need. Food. He needed sustenance to fill his belly, it would help, and then he would sleep off the need to lose himself within her. She had saved his life. She deserved the respect of the prince within him, not the taking of the Viking he had become.
“I'm done.” Her voice flo
ated over him like the lapping of the water teasing his body.
"Good,” he said, rougher than he meant to. “I may need help walking back. My feet feel grounded, but it is the water helping me more than I care to admit."
She moved toward him, reaching under his arm and pulling him toward the shore with her. It took more effort keeping his eyes averted to the tree line beyond them than physically moving. The desire to look at her scorched him inside and out. She reached for one of the towels, wrapping it around herself as he held lightly onto her shoulder, his legs gaining strength as he suspected.
Erik took the other towel from her hands, working it around his waist and turning toward her as she moved back from him, a smile on her beautiful face.
"You’re standing. Stronger already." She turned and picked the blanket and her slip off the ground.
When she straightened, he reached out his finger, brushing by the strand of roses that rolled over her shoulder and disappeared into her towel, her breast surely covered by the design. His eyes moved from it to her, the moonlight allowing him the pleasure of seeing her clearly.
"This design is beautiful. It's fitting for you. Feminine and yet, fearless. I didn’t know the English liked ink markings."
“I’m Scottish.” She laughed softly, moving to help him once again. She left the small towel and soap by the water, her long wet hair tickling his arms as they moved.
He wasn't sure he needed the help, but her closeness was welcomed regardless.
She spoke quietly as they began to walk. "How do you know I'm fearless? We just met.”
“You’re not afraid to speak your mind.”
She giggled, the soft shaking of her shoulders under his arm pleasant against his skin. “Just because I'm a bit mouthy doesn't mean I have courage to boot."
"I beg to differ. You walked into your fields by yours a couple of days ago and saved a Viking, moving him from the outdoors to the comfort of your bed.” A thought came to him. “How did you get me into your house? I have to be three times your size."
