‘Of course not. I enjoy our...’ What was she supposed to call it with him? Lovemaking? Surely he didn’t think of it that way. ‘I enjoy our coupling.’ She blushed because that word made it sound like the hurried, clandestine activities of that couple in the barn. But it wasn’t. Whether he admitted it or not, it was something special. She’d bet everything she had—which was nothing, but even if she’d had a boatful of treasure, she’d bet it—that he’d never felt the things with another woman that he felt with her.
He was so deathly quiet, she moved back to sit beside him. ‘I don’t want to hurt you, Merewyn. Ever.’
‘You didn’t hurt me.’ She gently touched his hand.
‘You’re limping.’
‘I’m only sore from all of the...activity, and it’s morning. My body isn’t used to the things we do. I’m sure it’s normal.’
He pulled free of her to run his hands through his hair. ‘I hurt you,’ he whispered.
‘Nay, Eirik, I like what you do to me.’
The look he gave her was so filled with disbelief she felt the need to prove it. So without thinking she grabbed his hand and brought it to her breast. ‘I’m sore here, too, but only from an excess of attention, not because you hurt me. You know you haven’t hurt me here. You’ve been nothing but gentle.’ When he seemed dubious, she brought his fingers up to press them to her lips. ‘Even here. I’m sore from your kisses and your beard, but nothing more, my lord. I’m your captive, remember? I hate you and have no reason to make you think I enjoyed something when I didn’t.’
That made the corner of his mouth tip up in a half smile. But she knew he had capitulated when his thumb traced the slightly swollen curve of her lower lip. ‘I like that you’re my captive, sweet girl. That only makes it worse.’
The words made a shiver work through her core, and she had to agree with him. But she was only his captive when they weren’t making love, if then. While she was beneath him, he catered to her every want and need before seeing to his own. ‘I was there with you, Eirik. Don’t forget that. I wanted you.’ She pulled him down for a kiss.
His other arm snaked around her and held her close as he kissed her back. But he set her away quickly. ‘No more until you heal.’
‘I can agree to that—’ she nodded ‘—if you can tell me what your nightmare was about.’
‘Nay.’ His face closed off to her. There was a flicker of fear and then there was nothing. The warmth in his eyes turned to ice. And despite their intimacy and his caring, she was reminded that he was her master, and perhaps she’d never be trusted enough to get too close to him.
She didn’t bring up the nightmare again, and after they ate breakfast, it was as though it had never happened. He was kind and considerate with her and their relationship settled back into the pattern of familiarity that had developed between them. But their respite from the world would be brief.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Merewyn smiled as she leaned back against Eirik’s chest and followed the line of his finger as he pointed to the third hill in the distance. They were leaned back against the side of the house, with his thigh wedged between hers to offer some support to her bottom, while his other arm rested comfortably around her waist. She loved the easiness that existed between them. Even more she loved how, ever since the nightmare, he pulled her against him to sleep now.
He still didn’t seem to want her to return his touches, but she could still tease him. As she nodded while he pointed out some rock structure he and Sweyn had made as children, she settled her bottom more firmly against him and was rewarded with the brushing of his lips against the top of her head. She’d almost convinced herself that it was possible to bring down that wall between them.
‘You play with fire,’ he growled, and nuzzled her neck.
‘It’s been days. I only want what you’ve promised me when you warned me away.’
He chuckled, and the sound filled her with warmth. He’d refused to join with her since the day of her limping.
‘Please, Eirik.’ She was smiling as she turned in his arms and put her arms around his neck. ‘I know you want to.’ The evidence of his arousal was firm against her thigh. ‘I’m healed, I swear.’
His thumb brushed across her lip and the humour in his eyes changed as they darkened with intensity. There was an answering flutter in her belly to that look. His mouth covered hers and his hands slid down her body until they were cupping her buttocks, giving each globe a squeeze as he pulled her up his thigh, pressing her womanly softness into the hard muscle.
‘Don’t tease me unless you mean to follow through,’ she whispered when he moved his mouth from hers to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses to her neck.
‘I’ll tease you, but then I’ll take you.’ His teeth nipped her tender skin, eliciting a serrated groan from her.
He might have taken her there had something in the distance not drawn his attention. It took a moment more for the fog of her arousal to clear enough that Merewyn heard the hoofbeats followed by a horse’s whinny. By then, Eirik had grabbed her hand and was already on his way to the door of the sod house. ‘Get inside and stay there until I tell you it’s safe.’
* * *
The wait was horrible. Merewyn’s heart was in her throat where she waited just inside the door with a kitchen knife in hand. It wasn’t much, but it was the only thing she had found in her hasty search that could even be considered a weapon. She wasn’t able to breathe again until she heard Eirik’s voice and then another one. Neither seemed to be angry. She cast a glance at one of the smoke holes tucked under the roof and was considering how to boost herself up to it to see outside when Eirik called to her and opened the door.
‘It’s Vidar and Sweyn.’ He looked grim as he walked inside with a cask of what she assumed to be mead under his arm.
A sick feeling festered in the pit of her stomach as she turned to the open door and watched as the boy unloaded a stack of furs from the back of his horse and gave her a nod as he passed her to come inside. She felt ridiculous holding the small knife, so she gave him a tentative smile and walked to put it away.
Vidar spoke to Eirik in their language, so she was surprised when Eirik answered him in hers. ‘Looks like snow tonight. You’ll stay the night.’ Eirik nodded to the blazing fire and both Vidar and Sweyn, who had just come in and shut the door, walked over to it with their hands out, eager for the warmth.
She’d been unaware that Sweyn and the boy knew her language, so was surprised when the boy answered, ‘We can head back. It’s only midday.’ Vidar’s voice was halting with his lack of confidence, but he spoke as well as Eirik did. Hilla must have taught him, as well.
‘Fool boy!’ Sweyn smacked Vidar with a good-natured open-palmed swat on the shoulder. ‘When you are offered fire and food, you accept.’ He spoke with a heavy accent that she had to strain to understand, and gave her a wink. Her contact with him before this had been limited to observing him on Eirik’s ship, but the fact that he spoke her language when it obviously wasn’t easy for him to manage caused her to instantly like him. The wink made her think that he must know how she and Eirik had been spending their evenings...and mornings. The fact that Sweyn didn’t treat it casually, as though she was no one but a slave, made her hope that others might come to see their relationship as something more. Though, even she wasn’t sure exactly what it was.
‘You won’t make it home before dark. There’s no need to freeze outside again tonight. We can all leave in the morning.’ Eirik placed another piece of wood on the fire and stared at the flames, his back to the room.
Merewyn started at his words and knew that her worst fear had been confirmed. This wasn’t a visit. The two had been sent to retrieve them. To retrieve Eirik—she was only excess baggage. ‘We’re leaving tomorrow? To return to your home?’
Eirik didn’t speak for a moment, and neither
of the others was brave enough to break the sudden tension in the room. Finally, Eirik turned and she could see the truth confirmed in the bleakness of his handsome features. Only then did she realise how he had been dreading their eventual return to reality as much as she had. ‘Aye, my father has summoned me.’ He met her gaze for only a moment before walking out the door.
It was ending. Her stomach lurched and she fought a wave of nausea. It was ending. The tenderness, the unexpected freedom, the late nights in his arms, the sound of her name on his lips when he called to her from across the room or whispered it against her neck when he found his release inside her. Their time together had only just begun, but already it was ending. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t they stay hidden away on his farm just a little longer? Why did the world have to intrude on the tiny bit of happiness they had been able to carve out?
Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back and turned to the benches to hide them under the guise of folding the furs and blankets. Vidar and Sweyn spoke behind her at the fire, but they had reverted back to their own language. She probably wouldn’t have understood their words even if they conversed in her own. The pain and fear were too great to allow room for anything else. She hated this. She hated the idea of going back there and being nothing but a slave again. Would Eirik treat her differently? Would they go back to the way things had been before? Nay, she couldn’t believe that would happen. Perhaps it was possible to take this bit of happiness with them.
Still, she couldn’t stop the thought that it was too soon. If they’d only had a few weeks to explore their discovery, to savour it, then maybe it could survive in his brutal world, but their love—their love?—was like a newborn being tossed to the elements. They needed more time to figure out if love was even possible.
A strong hand on her shoulder made her turn to see Sweyn standing there. ‘There are long winter months ahead.’ He spoke gently. ‘Don’t fret.’ He gave her a nod as he walked out the door.
Merewyn had no idea what to make of that. It was disturbing that her thoughts were so plainly seen by everyone, but she’d been surprised and unable to hide them. Maybe there was some truth to his words. Maybe there would be time.
* * *
The day wore on quickly, too quickly to suit her for their last day, but it hardly mattered. With Sweyn and Vidar around, there was very little in the way of privacy. The four of them spent the evening drinking mead. Sweyn regaled them with stories of past adventures, but Eirik wasn’t listening beyond the cursory addition to clarify the random fact that had been exaggerated. Often she’d catch him watching her or gazing absently into the fire. Did he feel their time slipping away, as well? She longed to ask, but couldn’t, so as soon as it was acceptable, she excused herself to go to bed. It was torture to be in his presence with all of the uncertainty.
She gave him a brief glance as she left the fire, remembering what had been happening before the sounds of their guests’ arrival had broken their embrace. A thrill of remembered pleasure coursed through her belly. If the momentary flare of heat in his gaze was an indication, he also remembered. It made her wish for privacy more than she’d ever wished for anything.
Sleep proved elusive at first, but eventually the murmured voices lulled her to sleep, though she didn’t sleep deeply and was awakened from her doze numerous times by laughter. At some point, Eirik slid into bed behind her. His arms came around her from behind and she melted into his warmth. This was the closeness she had craved from him all day. His face buried in her hair, and she felt his heavy sigh against her ear, his facial hair making her skin tingle.
‘I missed you,’ he whispered.
She smiled as the words warmed her. ‘I missed you, too.’
One hand found her breast and teased the nipple with insistent gentle pinches that awoke her body. ‘Didn’t I warn you about teasing me without following through?’
‘What will you do?’ he challenged, and his other hand began to work the skirt of her underdress, the only clothing she wore, up her thigh.
‘Eirik! You can’t.’ She tried to turn in his arms, but he held her fast. So she turned her head to look at him, her eyes desperately trying to look beyond his broad chest to the room beyond.
His fingers found her damp and swollen. His eyes were solemn now, with no hint of the playfulness from just moments ago. She understood then that he felt the same desperation she did, as if something was slipping away from them before they’d even had the chance to know it was there.
‘They’re both asleep. Out cold with drink.’ As if to emphasise his words, one of them let out a loud snore from where they slept on the other side of the hearth. ‘But if you tell me nay, I’ll leave you be.’ To dissuade her, he began circling the spot they had discovered made her mad with desire.
In a purely reflexive move, she pushed back against him, so he rocked his hips into her in response. He was straining against his trousers. She couldn’t deny him, couldn’t say nay to their potential last night of happiness.
‘Aye,’ she whispered, and brought his head down for a kiss.
His mouth plundered hers while his fingers rubbed and tortured until she moved restlessly against him. Finally, he pulled away and brought the large blanket of furs over them before catching her beneath the knee to push it forward. She longed to reach back and caress him, but knew he wouldn’t let her, so she kept her forearms braced on the bed. A moment more and he grabbed a handful of her hair and an arm went around her waist to hold her steady as he pushed slowly into her. She bit her lip to stifle the cry of pleasure that begged to escape. There was no pain, no soreness, only unimaginable pleasure.
‘You’re mine, Merewyn. Say it.’ His voice was both rough and soft against her skin.
‘I’m yours.’ There was no hesitation. It was the truth. As surely as he drove her body higher towards release, he carried her heart right along with it. It was his.
* * *
‘Everybody out!’
Eirik winced as the words boomed throughout the great room. The four of them had just stepped inside his father’s longhouse, where everyone had been enjoying the quiet after the evening meal, so there was no doubt that it was their arrival that had provoked the command from his father. It was confirmed when he happened to catch sight of the man standing on the dais, his hard gaze directed their way. A few of the men greeted him on their way out, but others avoided eye contact as they moved past. Even Vidar found it better to abandon him than to face their father’s wrath. The little ingrate.
‘Everyone! Go!’ This bit was directed at a couple of older women who appeared intent on staying to work on their weaving.
They grabbed their shawls and made a show of putting them on as they left. A twinge of guilt prickled because it was steadily snowing and had been all day and the previous night, but he pushed it aside to face the bigger battle that was his father.
He grabbed Merewyn’s arm and pulled her along as he approached the dais. ‘Stay behind me,’ he murmured. Her hand burrowed in the fur of his cloak. Sweyn moved to his side, helping to shield her.
‘What do you mean by refusing to marry Kadlin?’ A vein on the jarl’s forehead bulged. His voice held the hard edge that foretold of fury.
‘I’m not aware of refusing her. She decided we wouldn’t suit.’ Eirik played semantics in an effort to defuse the situation until he could get Merewyn to safety.
‘By the gods and all the hounds in Helheim, do you expect me to believe that girl would have refused you? You who would become jarl?’
‘There are many would-be jarls. Surely you realise that she could have her pick of them.’
His father slung down his tankard and Eirik clenched his teeth. ‘But she wanted you. Leif has said she’s done nothing but wait for you. But now there will be no marriage.’
‘Perhaps her father was misinformed.’
The j
arl cursed and knocked the tankard from the table so it flew halfway across the room. Merewyn jumped behind him. Eirik gave Sweyn a nod and half-turned to her. ‘Go with Sweyn. He’ll take you to my chamber.’
Her eyes were wide with fright, but she nodded and was stepping away from him when the jarl spotted her.
‘Is it the slave? One taste of her and you’re giving it all up for her.’
‘Father.’ Eirik’s voice rose slightly in warning. ‘Halt before you go too far.’
‘I’m the jarl here. I can’t go too far. It’s you who goes too far. I knew I should have given her to someone else as soon as I saw her. Or maybe I’ll even sample her myself.’
‘Nay!’ Eirik pushed her behind him and faced his father squarely. His other hand gripped around the sheathed blade of his sword. ‘She is mine. You have no right to take her away.’
‘Right? You challenge me about right? Whose ship were you on when you took her? Whose ship brought her here? Everything you brought back with you belongs to me by right if I want it. Everything! That includes your slave.’
There was no denying the absolute truth in those words. But it was almost unheard of for his father to so exert his authority that every man wasn’t given his equal share. Almost. A blade of fear knifed through his chest as he realised just how precarious Merewyn’s position could be here if his father chose to make it so. ‘All right. You can have her, but you’ll have to take her from me first.’ His voice had gone deathly calm and his fists clenched tight around the sword.
The words broke through his father’s red rage. The older man collapsed back into his chair and took a deep breath before speaking again. When he did speak, his voice was lower and more measured. ‘I don’t want to take her from you. I don’t want to do you harm. What I do want is for you to be jarl after I’m gone. I want you to establish that as your rightful place so there will be no question between you and Gunnar. I don’t want some slave to ruin that.’
‘I have established my right to be the next jarl. The raids were successful and the men already—’
Enslaved by the Viking Page 17
