by Mia Marlowe
“Warn me of what?” His hand stole under the bedclothes and found her bare knee. The callused palm sent messages of delight up her thigh. Her legs parted slightly of their own accord.
“You're in terrible danger,” she whispered as his mouth trailed down to her navel.
“I am now,” Erik said with a smile in his voice. “If they catch me in your chamber, I'm a dead man. But I don't care. All I want is you and if you send me away now, I swear Valdis, I'll be the first man in Miklagard to die of love.”
With tremendous effort, she straight-armed him and wiggled away. “Erik, I'm serious.”
“What makes you think I'm not?”
“Men speak easily of love when they think it will gain them a bedding.” She climbed out of the tangled linens and stood to put some distance between them. “Then by morning's light all talk of love is forgotten. Besides, there are more important issues at stake right now.”
“More important than love?”
“Even more important than love. I'm talking about your life. Damian knows you're here and he's—”
“Do you think I fear that ball-less wonder?”
“No, but you should.”
“The day I fear a eunuch is the day I fall on my own sword.”
“But I've had such an evil dream—two of them really, and you're in mortal peril in both.” The echo of the dragon's dying scream was still fresh in her ears.
He snorted. “Don't tell me you believe the nonsense Damian is touting about you—that you can see the future. Valdis, it's just a Byzantine scheme.” He stood and closed the distance between them. He raised a hand to her cheek, and then let his fingers trail down her neck to brush her breast. “We're wasting precious time with all this talk of danger.”
“It's no waste. You presume too much,” she said crossly, moving away from him and finding the wall at her back. Her nipples still tingled from his touch. “I didn't call you here because my bed is cold.”
“I guess it's your heart that's cold then.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You offer me a stolen night of pleasure here and there and then only how and when it suits you.” His voice was graveled with irritation. “Don't worry. I had no intention of disturbing your precious flower.”
“And I had no intention of offering it. How can you think bedding me will make things better when your life is in danger?” Valdis covered her face with her hands. Erik was angry with her. She couldn't convince him of her premonition and, despite her claim that she didn't want him in her bed, the throbbing ache between her legs damned her as a liar. “We are surrounded by enemies. Everything I do here is a deception and there's no one I can trust.”
“You can trust me.” All the anger was gone from his voice and she saw genuine concern in his eyes. “I trust you.”
“Then why can't you see I'm afraid for you?” A sob escaped with her question and her shoulders shook.
His arms came around her, pulling her close. She let him take her, too tired to continue the fight. He held her steady against his chest, his big hand stroking her hair.
“I'm sorry, Valdis. I guess I deserved that. When I found your message, I thought... well, it doesn't matter now. Then when I heard you were supping with the Arab, my eyes went red with berserkr haze. It felt just like when I found my wife with my brother. Something inside me was dying, knowing you were with another man. I wanted to break into his apartments and kill him. The only thing that stopped me was knowing that I'd endanger you.”
Valdis stopped shaking as he dropped a soft kiss on her temple.
“And then when your lamp came on early and I realized he'd sent you back to your room instead of keeping you with him...” He clutched her tighter. “I hoped he decided he didn't want you. No, I won't ask. Make whatever sacrifice you must to survive. Promise me.”
“I'll do what I must.” Valdis nodded. So Erik was still smarting from memories of his wife's faithlessness. She should have realized this situation would be painfully similar for him. “But Mahomet wants to preserve my abilities, so he sent me away and called for another to serve him. Two others.”
“Gods, I'm glad your master is such a fool.” Erik tipped her head back and kissed her deeply.
“No, that's just the trouble. He's not a fool. He's a vicious and powerful man.” She hugged him tighter. “And I know you don't put any stock in such things, but my dreams keep getting worse. I summoned you to warn you. You are in peril here. I know it.” In breathless whispers, she recounted her nightmares to him. “Please find some way to leave this city before it's too late.”
“It's already too late.”
“What do you mean?”
“The first moment I saw you, it was too late. You witched me with those eyes of yours.” He pressed his lips to her closed eyelids.
She trembled at the sweetness of his kiss.
His voice was a rumbling purr in her ear. “You ask me to leave the city? I couldn't even leave this house because it would mean leaving you. You're in my blood, woman.” He tucked her hand inside his tunic so she could feel the great muscle galloping in his chest. “All I am is yours.”
“That sounds almost like a vow,” she whispered in awe.
“It is. Even though you belong to another and cannot answer my vow, I pledge myself to you, Valdis. Upon my honor, though there are those who would say that is too small a thing to swear upon.”
She put a finger to his lips to silence him. “You are the most honorable man I know.”
“Then it is my great good fortune that you know so few men,” he said with a crooked smile. Then the smile faded into a look of dead seriousness. “Upon my honor, I swear I am yours until I breathe no more.”
“Erik.” She ran a hand over his head. “Oh, my love.” She bit her lip for a moment. “My body is owned by another, so I cannot match your pledge with one of my own. Yet I would give you that which is mine to give.”
She took his hand and placed his palm over her breastbone so he could feel her heart as well. “There is a part of me that Habib Ibn Mahomet cannot own, cannot touch. Even if there comes a time when he takes my body, he will never have so much as a pinch of my soul.” She looked up into his dear face. In the dimness, his pale eyes were dark with desire. “My family turned me out when they saw what lurked within me. You have seen my worst and did not turn away. How could I not love you for the rest of my days?”
“I accept your pledge in fair exchange. But there will come a day when you own yourself again. And on that day, I will claim you entire as you have claimed me.”
He kissed her again, softly, as if she might break. When he released her, she shook her head. She'd made a decision. She had to act before she lost her nerve.
“No, I don't think that will do.” She bent over and grasped her hem. In a single motion, she pulled her night shift up and over her head, baring herself before him. She stepped back into his arms. “I would have you claim me entire this night.”
“Don't tempt me.”
She felt his muscles tense and knew he was barely holding himself back.
“It's no temptation, Erik. It's a solemn offer.” She placed a soft kiss on his neck and stepped back a pace. Just as she had done earlier before Mahomet, she cupped her breasts and arched her back. “My soul, my heart, my maidenhead, these are all things which still belong to me. But I give them now into your keeping.”
“Mahomet does not have a forgiving nature. If you're found to be impure—”
She covered his mouth with her fingertips. The danger in her dreams made her adamant. She must love this man tonight or die inside by finger-widths through all her days to come. “I will deal with that, when and if the time comes. Our lives trickle away like the drips of the water clock. I cannot bear the thought that I might never know the joy of having you. Please, Erik. Let us have this night.”
“I know I should resist, but you put too much on a simple man.”
“There’s nothing simple about you.”
He reached out to
touch her offered breasts, cradling them with gentleness. The pad of his thumbs thrummed over her nipples, setting her blood racing. Valdis could see his resolve crumble even as his eyes blazed with feral light.
“Damn tomorrow,” he said with savagery. “Let the world end tonight.”
He scooped her into his arms and carried her back to her sleeping couch. They fell into the linens together in a tangle of arms and legs. His mouth was everywhere, branding her skin with his heat. Her fingers flew, trying to help him out of his clothing, unwilling to separate for any longer than necessary to pull the stubborn leather and wool out of their way.
Where he was hard, she was soft. Where he was rough, she was smooth. The ecstasy of his skin on hers was almost more than she could bear. His fingers traced all her curves, all her hidden crevices, followed by his blessed mouth.
Valdis had never felt so tinglingly alive. Every fiber of her being ached, but it was a welcome ache as she strained against him.
“My turn,” she whispered as she pushed him onto his back. She sat up and ran her fingertips over his chest, along the curve of his ribs and flat belly. His maleness was swollen with need and he groaned when she stroked him. She explored his bag of seed and was surprised to find it soft at first. Then under her hand, it too tightened. The mystery of a man was becoming clear to her. Then she gazed down his well-muscled legs and frowned. A strip of linen was wrapped around one thigh. She untied the bandage to reveal a fresh, angry-looking gash.
“What happened to you?”
“Nothing to worry about,” he said. “I just had a brief disagreement with a killer of children. He managed one lucky stroke, but I managed the last one.”
He pulled her astraddle him and urged her down so he could nip and suckle her breasts once more. All conscious thought, even concern over his injury, fled from Valdis's mind. His hand slid down over her belly and invaded the softness throbbing between her legs. A jolt of pleasure coursed through her when his fingers grazed her most sensitive spot.
Then, suddenly, Valdis realized it was no longer his hand seeking entrance to her secret chamber of delights. The tip of Erik's thick manhood was poised at her center. She ached for him.
“There is no going back,” he whispered, tension straining his words. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Now,” she begged. Her empty womb contracted once with need. “Now is all there is.”
By finger-widths, he eased into her. He stopped when his tip reached her thin barrier. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out for him to hurry. He thrust once and she was torn forever. There was a brief pain as he filled her, a quick stab that dissipated in the joy of joining her body to his. They lay still, locked in the wonder of this new being they'd just created, this single soul they'd become. Then she kissed him and they rolled together, surging into each other with the force of the tide plunging into a deep fjord. The feel of him, thick and hard, sliding in and out of her slick wetness blotted out the rest of the world. She took him in greedily, urging him to go deeper, to impale her with his love. She watched his face, their gazes locked as the ancient rhythm of life bore them both away.
Valdis was wound tight. She felt the tension build in Erik's body in tandem, but just as she neared release, he began to pull away.
“No, wait,” she pleaded.
“I can't hold off any longer.”
“Then don't, but whatever you do, if you've any love for me at all, don't leave me.”
His body shuddered and he plunged deep. She felt his seed surge into her hot and steady, and her body welcomed him with pulses of joy. She lost control of her limbs and bucked with the contractions. His mouth covered hers when she would have cried out at the wonder of their joining.
Her body went slack as the last of her release faded. Joy spread from her being in gentle waves.
When Valdis woke from one of her spells, she always felt limp as a broken reed. She experienced some of that same lethargy now, but with an important difference.
Now she was not alone. Erik was with her. He was firmly in her body and her heart. And she knew just as surely that she was in his. No matter if they must separate. No matter if death came for them. He would be with her for the rest of her days.
And in this splendid moment, it didn't matter to Valdis one whit how few those days might be.
“When a tool has lost its usefulness, a master craftsman has no choice but to discard it, lest his work suffer for the tool's inadequacy.”
—from the secret journal of Damian Aristarchus
Chapter 22
* * *
It was still dark when Erik rose from Valdis's bed and shrugged into his discarded clothes. Even though he'd brushed it off as unimportant, the wound in his thigh caused his leg to stiffen. Getting back down the vine without being noticed might be more of a trick than shinnying up it.
Valdis slept with the deep relaxation of one whose every knot has been loosed. If he'd not been a warrior trained to wake himself to relieve another watch, he'd have slept just as deeply. In the dimness, he was barely able to make out her form. He stood over her for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. She swam into his vision a little at a time, the oval of her face, her calm brows, her full lips parted softly in sleep. He knew he should just go, should leave her thus entwined with her pillow and her dreams, but he couldn't resist taking her mouth one last time.
“Mmm,” she murmured as she draped her arms around his neck. “What a lovely way to wake. Come back to bed.”
“I can't. It must be near the end of the third watch,” he whispered, inhaling her musky scent. His cock rose merrily, heedless of the time. “I must be gone, love.”
She sighed and cupped his jaw in her palm. “You'll come to me again?”
“No, Valdis. I shouldn't have endangered you this time,” he said with reluctance. “How can we tempt fate again?”
“You must come.” She held him close. “Promise me, Erik. Say you will come to me at every chance.”
Every bit of reason told him to refuse, but his head could not overrule his heart.
“If I can, I will come to you,” he whispered into her neck. “But now I must go. Close your eyes or I won't be able to leave.”
He was relieved and surprised when she obeyed him. From the shadows of the window, his gaze swept the sleeping compound, satisfying himself that the next watch had not yet started his rounds. Then he climbed out the opening and down the sturdy vines, moving with stealth.
Overhead, he heard Loki give one yip before Valdis silenced him.
Damn dog.
Erik froze halfway to the ground, in case anyone should rouse at the sharp sound. In the distance, he heard a cock crow. It was far later, or rather far earlier, than he'd thought. From the kitchen on the opposite side of the courtyard, Erik heard the clatter of broken crockery followed by a muffled curse. The household was beginning to stir.
So far the gods had aided him in his clandestine quest. Wasn't it said that Freya, the Lady of Asgard, smiled upon lovers and their secret trysts? Perhaps he could lean just a little longer on her help. Abandoning stealth, he clambered down as quickly as he could. When he reached the ground, he crouched, waiting to see if any had marked his progress. Except for the amber light of an oil lamp burning in the kitchen and the rattle of pots, he saw and heard nothing that betrayed another's presence.
Erik straightened and walked toward his own room near the stables, keeping to the shadows as much as possible as the sky paled to gray. When he reached his spartan quarters and closed the door behind him, he allowed himself a sigh of relief.
Until he discovered his horn-handled dagger was missing.
He retraced his steps through the courtyard, hoping it had slipped from its sheath after his climb down. He nearly ran headlong into the watchman and brazened it out by bullying the man and deriding him for being so late on his rounds.
Of the dagger, he saw no trace. He concluded that he had left the incriminating object in Valdis’s be
dchamber. In his frenzy to rid himself of his clothes, it must have come out of the sheath unnoticed and was now lying on her floor or, please gods, had been kicked under her sleeping couch.
Perhaps the goddess Freya wasn't so approving of his night of stolen joy, after all.
* * *
“Pray don't wait on me, friend,” Damian said as Publius opened the door for him. “My business with Valdis shouldn't keep you from breaking your fast.”
“Quite right,” Publius said with a harrumphing cough. He turned away without bothering to enter the chamber to check on his most recent charge. “See yourself out then.”
Damian was surprised to find Valdis still abed. The air in the room seemed different, muskier than usual. He set the herbal potion on the bedside table.
“Rise and shine,” he said. “Publius tells me you supped privately with your new master last night. He was unusually closemouthed about it. I would hear the whole tale and don't stint the details.”
Valdis struggled to sit up, her hair a tangled mess and her lips swollen with spent passion. Her mismatched eyes were decidedly bleary. Had she been crying?
Damian noted a small bloodstain on her linens as she swung her long legs over the side of the bed. She slept in the nude, which was unlike her. He allowed himself a quick look at her full breasts before averting his gaze. Obviously, she'd lacked the will to dress properly for bed after leaving her new master's side.
“So, Mahomet was unable to restrain himself,” he said crisply, as if commenting on the weather. He knew women frequently were devastated over the loss of purity and he wished he could've spared Valdis this. Privately, he'd given her claim that she must remain a virgin to retain her prescient abilities only half a chance at success. If only she'd been less striking ...
Damian noticed that her night shift lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. Before she left his home, Damian had made sure she was supplied with plenty of dried lavender to scatter amid her clothing. If she wasn't wearing the garment, it should have been neatly folded in the chest at the foot of her sleeping couch. Valdis scooped up the night shift and quickly slipped it over her head. She accepted the mint-scented chalice from his hand without meeting his eyes.
