by Lexy Timms
He stood from the bed, stretching and listening for the sound of her moving somewhere in the house. Nothing. Wrapping the sheet around his waist he walked toward the second to last door in the small hallway, her brother's room dark and cool. Grabbing a pair of breeches, he slipped them on. They fit tightly but would do. Erik pulled a blue shirt over his head and walked through the quietness of the small home.
She had never come back to bed the night before, his hopes of making love to her before leaving seemed nothing more than a dream. Disappointment turned into anger as his thoughts shifted from the beautiful lass to the betrayal that rode him hard. How someone would go against him was hard to fathom, but with the right weapons anything might be possible. Out of habit, he touched his hips, knowing he would find nothing and yet unable to help himself.
His knife.
"Where is the damn thing?" he grumbled. He must have dropped it when he lost consciousness. He had no sword or the previous knife his mother had carved for him. He walked out of the house, his eyes scanning the horizon for Linzi. Her fiery hair caught his attention, long strands of it billowing behind her as she bent over in the field, her body lithe and resilient. A cry of frustration lifted from her, the shovel in her hands beating at the ground beneath her with no avail. He turned and walked back into the house, getting his shoes and moving back out to help her. He thought of checking on her father but decided against it. He would be gone before the man ever knew he had even been there.
She looked up as he approached, her brow relaxing and a smile sliding across her beautiful mouth. His heart shuddered at the loss of what might have been if he wasn't on the hunt for his assassins. He could have stayed with her, made her his, and taken care of her father's land alongside her. Again dreams lost to the wind.
"Hi, sleepy." She winked and bent over, the soft white shirt she wore tucked into her black skirt, the material fitting and accentuating all of the places he desired to touch. “I didn’t realize Saxons needed so much beauty sleep.”
"You should have woken me. I could have helped."
She looked up again, smirking as she extended the shovel toward him. "Be my guest."
He took it and laughed, unable to remain stoic around her. His lack of care and hard demeanor had always been the core of his being, the center of his structure. To relax before her and just be was a breath of fresh air. His body felt strong and nearly healed.
He glanced down at the handle as she moved to pick up a small jug of water, the front of her shirt opening just enough for his eyes to catch a glimpse of her luscious skin.
"Why is there blood on the handle?"
She held up her petite hand, the wrapping on it soaked in blood. Concern laced him as he dropped the tool and took her wrist, working to unwrap it carefully.
"What did you do?" he asked, dropping the cloth to the ground beside him. The cut was angry and messy with the first signs of infection. He had seen it last night in the creek but hadn’t paid proper attention to it. Too lost in the rest of her body, he scolded himself.
"Kenton left and Da' was ill, so I taught myself to fight the other day."
"And you fought how? I've never killed a man with the palm of my hand." He smiled, unable to help himself.
"I got a rope burn lifting the bag of sand I pulled up into a tree. I pretended it was an attacker."
He turned her hand over, surprised he hadn't noticed how busted up her knuckles were. He reached for her other hand, pulling her carefully toward the house with him. "Let me patch you up properly. You'll do no one any good losing that hand. You need to stop using it, Linzi."
She scoffed. "There isn't exactly a lot of help around here. I figure I have a day or two before the rains move in. The seed from last harvest has to be planted or we’ll starve to death. That field is our only means of supporting ourselves in this war ranging nearly in our backyard."
He looked over his shoulder as they walked, his heart beating faster than it did in the midst of a battle. Was this girl stealing his heart? Was it possible or was he simply beaten down from all he had been through over the last few years and was now looking for a reason to feel something—anything? “You can’t use that hand. It is my turn to help you. I'll stay another day and work the field.” Just feed me and let me sleep against you once more and then I'll go. He didn't wait for a response but walked into the house, Linzi just behind him. He pulled open cabinets until he located supplies to patch her up.
Working quickly as she stared at him with her mouth slightly open, Erik cleaned her hand and pressed ointment to the wound before wrapping it again. "No more using this today. It needs two days to heal. I work fast and I'm strong again. I can take care of the field."
"No.” She finally spoke. “You could barely walk yesterday. You aren't healed yet. I can do it. I'll just wrap an extra—"
He cut her off, stepping close to her and tilting her chin up with his finger. His breath caught in his chest, his body hardening at the innocent beauty that sat on the girl before him. She was a treasure and deserved to be treated as one. The thought of another man treating her as anything caused him to growl softly.
She pulled back, rolling her eyes at him. “If you're going to get testy about it, then fine, do it yourself. If you pass out, don't you dare expect me to drag you back up here! You've been warned." She shrugged and walked out of the house, the sway of her hips drawing his attention.
He followed her. "Did you drag me yesterday? How uncouth." He laughed as she glared at him with warning to watch himself.
"You're lucky I did anything."
"Damn right I am. I’m incredibly thankful.” He stretched his arms toward the sky, eager to test the return of his strength. “I would have killed and taken my... hey, speaking of, have you seen my knife? It’s small, with carved detail on the handle and script on the blade. Saxon writing." They stopped by the field, Erik leaned over to grab the shovel before she did, trying to pin her with a stern gaze and knowing he failed miserably.
"And if I did see it?" She pressed her good hand to her hip and tilted her head, red locks spilling down her chest and almost touching her belt line.
"I want it back." He lifted the shovel and drove it into the ground, his body screaming in protest. He swallowed the pain and continued to tear up the earth before them as he spoke to her.
"What if I want to keep it as payment…” Her lips pressed together as she thought. “For saving your life?"
He tried not to smile and keep his face serious. He was quite sure he would give her anything she desired. "I guess that might be fair. I’d have paid you with something quite important to me, so the knife would be fitting. You like it?" He looked down, trying not to focus on her lest he cut the edge of his toes off with his aim.
"Why is it so important to you?" Linzi asked hesitantly. She leaned over and picked up the small canteen, opening it and offering it to him when he stopped for a moment. She took the jug and lifted it to his lips, careful not to let any of the precious liquid drip on his chin wasted. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and began working once more.
"It was the last gift my father gave me before he passed. My mother worked to carve the design in it. My name is engraved on the handle as well if you look closely." He shrugged and grunted loudly as his shovel hit a large rock. "I hoped to give it to my son one day." He waved his hand. “It doesn’t matter.”
"You want children?" she whispered, the change in her tone giving him pause.
He smiled as she put the canteen down and crossed her arms over her heart as if hoping to protect herself from whatever had begun between them. "Yes, and a wife." He looked around the large grassy field in front of them and turned to admire the forest behind them before looking back to her. "And a beautiful plot of land like this one." He hit the ground hard with the shovel, dirt flying in the process. “Alas, life has laid other plans for me… but one day.”
"If the knife is a family heirloom, I don’t want it." Linzi glanced toward the top of the hill,
where gravestones sat amidst the grass.
Erik continued to dig at the ground but averted his eyes to watch her, wondering what she might be thinking.
"My mother gave me a necklace I'd sooner die than part with. I didn't realize the significance with the blade." She took a few steps back and sat down, tucking her long shapely legs under her as she stared at her injured hand.
"Keep it. I'm sure if you sold it in the nearby village, it would bring you and your father enough funds to help you through a year.” It hurt him to talk as if the thing held no significance, but he found himself suddenly willing to do anything for this woman. “The small gem near the handle is real, from the mines in Syria."
"Who are you, Erik? Are you a slave of the Celt's, or were you born to be one of their soldiers?" She shook her head.
He stopped, wiping his brow as a means of delaying his response. To tell her he was the crowned prince might embarrass her for her nasty remarks toward the royal family, or anger her that he was birthed from the demons as she had put it. He would be leaving her soon and so would his white lie. "I am nothing more than a Saxon man's son, a soldier to the cause simply because I was forced to fight. I'd rather be a farmer or a rancher of sorts, anything that would bring a peaceful life instead of the one I've been given." He ignored the fire in his belly, the whisper of reason to come clean with the lass and just be truthful to her.
"Where will you go from here? When you leave? Will you be forced to fight us again? To come here and take my land?"
He looked up at her as the sun pressed against him, his legs beginning to give way to occasional tremors. He dropped the shovel and walked toward her, reaching for her hand. She granted him the prize as he pulled her to her feet and released her, pointing to the house. "I need to rest and then I'll get back to it."
"Are you not going to answer my questions?" Her face showed the fear of what she believed his answer to be.
He had no idea what he would do. Only that he would hunt down and kill those who had gone against his brother, the king. "I am, but first you answer mine."
"Not this again." She huffed softly.
Erik reached over and wrapped his arm around her small shoulders, pulling her to his side as they walked the short distance to the house. "Why didn't you come back to me last night?"
She stopped, pulling from him as her face hardened. "I had to help my father."
"I’ll agree he was the reason you left me aching and in need of you. But why didn't you return?"
She diverted her eyes, her fingers reaching up to pick the soft skin from her bottom lip. "I guess I was... I don't know…” She hesitated and stared at the dirt beneath their feet. “I was scared."
He closed the small gap between them, his hands sliding along her jawline, fingers slipping into the long strands of her hair as he held her still. "I wouldn't hurt you, lass."
She stared at him defiantly. "You wouldn't mean to hurt me, but you would."
Her brazen words sent his heart racing. "I know you’re a virgin, Linzi. I’d have been careful with your gift. I know you want to save it. There are other things—"
"It's not my body I'm worried about, Saxon. It's my heart."
Chapter 7
Linzi
Anticipation swam in her belly, the blue-eyed Viking before her holding on tightly to her face, his hungry gaze brushing from her lips to her eyes. He was going to kiss her and if he didn't, she would do it herself. He needed to have left earlier that morning, her resolve to move past the desire that burned inside of her falling by the wayside.
He leaned in, his tongue brushing his lips before he pressed them to hers. She slipped her arms around his waist, her fingers working up the back of his shirt to feel the warm moist skin of his back. Smooth as silk and stretched across thick muscles, she groaned at the desire to see him naked and lain out on her bed again.
He moved one hand from her face, wrapping it around her and pressed against her lower back until no space existed between them. She lifted to her toes, licking at his mouth with a passion she hadn't known capable of existing. He pulled back only long enough to scorch her with his gaze. He tucked his head against the side of her neck and moved his hand over her rear, grabbing the back of her thighs and lifting.
A small sound of surprise lifted from her as he pulled her legs around his thick waist, his teeth brushing by the base of her neck. Linzi released herself to the moment, her eyes closing and head falling back as a heavy sigh left her. This was right – so purely simple. The need to be pressed to the ground by his desire, to feel him sating himself against her as she offered all she was to his release. She didn’t need to save her innocence for anyone else. It had been him she’d been saving it for.
He walked them toward the house, pressing her to the outside wall of the structure and grinding against her, his grunts hoarse and needy. She ran her fingers through his hair, the sensation of his carnality undoing her from the inside out. "I want to be inside of you, Linzi. I want to see the pleasure on your face when I bring you to the edge of release and throw you over the cliff." He kissed her neck again, his lips so soft, tongue so wet.
She didn't know how to respond, so she didn't, the soft whimper of her own need escaping her mouth when he looked up, his fingers digging into the softness of her rear.
He kissed her softly, his fingers brushing against the most intimate part of her. She yelped softly, never having experienced something so divine. It was wrong and her father would kill her, but nothing would replace the feeling of Erik pressed against her, his words wicked, his movements controlled and sensual.
He broke the kiss, lifting her a little more as he brushed the tip of his nose against her breast, her arousal causing her nipple to bud. She looked down, air seemingly so difficult to find as she watched the enjoyment on his features as he placed his mouth on the small pebble that pressed against her shirt, his groan breaking her in two.
"Forgive me," she whispered, her hips rolling against his hold on her.
He whispered her name as he moved along her chest, his fingers causing friction, her body demanding release. "Come for me, Linzi. Let yourself go and let me feel you grant me your release." He tugged at her breast with his lips, his fingers pressing hard against the material of her skirt against her center.
She hit her head against the house, the world exploding into a thousand tiny stars as fire burst from her stomach and raced up her chest, her moans loud and unashamed.
"That's it," he whispered, his lips pressed to her neck again, his tongue lapping at her as she calmed down. She shuddered in his arms, Erik letting her slide down his body as her feet touched the ground.
His arms pulled her close, the awkwardness she wanted to rouse dying at his control of their combined emotions. He leaned down, lifting her chin and softly kissing her lips, a smug smile on his face. "I've never seen anything more arousing.” He closed his eyes, his long eyelashes sending another tremor through Linzi. When he opened them his eyes were bright, his pupils large. “I don't think it's your heart we have to worry about." He kissed her softly before taking her hand and pulling her toward the house. "I think it's mine."
Breathless and still panting, Linzi excused herself to her room, her skirt beyond useful for the rest of the day. Erik promised to start working on lunch as she walked on trembling legs to her room. Part of her expected him to follow her, to finish what he had started and relieve himself of the horrid emotions that must be rushing through him, as they were her, moments before ecstasy hit. How he contained himself was a true attestation to his strength.
She changed into a blue dress, not bothering with panties as they would simply be too hot. She would need to do laundry tomorrow, but wanted to wait until he was gone. Spending whatever time with him while he was still there was her first priority, not that it should be.
You're going to fall in love and have sex with the Viking, and then what? He will break your heart. She sighed softly, walking down the hall and pausing at her father's door,
the older man sitting up on the side of his bed.
"Da’!" She walked in and knelt before him, guilt at her depravity pushing her to ask for forgiveness. Never in a million years would she admit to the things she had tasted and done, the hoping for things yet to be done by far the worst of her sins.
"Linzi! You’re all right. I thought I heard someone beating on the side of the house. It woke me, which is good I guess. How long have I been under with fever?"
"Only a few days. That was me. I thought you were still lost to the sleeping world, so I was cleaning out a sheet that got messy the other day." She reached up and touched his head, his face pale, but skin cool to the touch. She knew hers was burning, probably bright red at the moment.
"Fever’s broken. Thank goodness." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for her to help him.
Erik called out to her and her father's eyebrow lifted. "Is Kenton home?"
"No.” She stared down at the floor, her face flushed and guilt riddling her body that a moment ago had been filled with the most exquisite torture she had ever felt. “A day or so ago I found a man injured in the field just outside of the house, near death. The war has reached our doorstep.” She swallowed, her mouth dry. “I helped him in here and patched him up. He's a Saxon."
"A Viking?” he roared. “What the hell, Linzi?" Her father moved toward the door, reaching for his sword as he did.
“Wait!” She rushed to the door, stopping him from leaving his room. “He’s not evil! Listen, please,” she begged. “He’s a servant, near a slave, forced to fight like most of the boys in our village.” She straightened and crossed her arms over her chest as if to protect her heart along with Erik. “You’ll not hurt him. He's a human as we are. He's been working in the field and protecting me since you lay in darkness." She moved in front of her father and pressed her fingers to his chest, the muscles soft, the sickness taking too much from him. “You will only get yourself killed, along with me.”
