At the word, Alff’s hand trembled as he tugged at the neck of his tunic. Sweat appeared on his forehead. ‘Just know that I am here for you. That is all I ask. I would never challenge you for the leadership. You know that.’
‘I will. I do. Blood, cousin...blood is thicker than water.’ Kal spied Cynehild’s skirt. She was going back into the hall. ‘I appreciate your concern.’
* * *
‘Are you ready to go? Or do you need more time.’
Kal appeared in the doorway to the chamber just as Cynehild finished adjusting the belt of her dark red gown. His hair glistened as if he had sprinkled it with diamonds, and he’d changed into a linen shirt adorned with gold embroidery. A short fur-trimmed cape was thrown about his shoulders. In the short time they’d been apart, he had become Icebeard.
‘I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.’
She tried to smooth the wrinkles out of her gown. She’d lost some weight on her journey, and the gown flowed better on her hips, but it seemed her breasts were larger than ever. She strongly suspected that she would look like a giant dun cow compared to the slender Toka.
‘I like a lady who decides not to waste others’ time.’
‘My men are recovering. Luckily there were some healing herbs in the cart, so I could make up the appropriate poultices.’
‘They’ll come to no further harm. My word still holds sway here.’
‘You proved that earlier.’ She gave an uneasy laugh. ‘You are truly Jaarl of these lands.’
‘That colour suits you,’ Kal said, taking her arm.
He smelt of spring sunshine.
‘It makes your hair look even more golden.’
‘Do you think your enemy will attack tonight? Do we need a plan?’ she asked, trying to keep her gaze away from the sculpted shape of his mouth. ‘I like to have an inkling of what I’m supposed to do.’
‘My enemy will be biding his time...’
Kal explained in a low voice about his cousin’s attempted apology.
An uneasy prickle went down Cynehild’s spine. Kal seemed to be waiting for something from her. His cousin couldn’t know about the treasure, could he? No one did.
‘You think it is him?’
‘I don’t yet know, but I’m pleased you will be at my side. You make a fine addition to this hall, even if for just a short while.’
‘I’ll endeavour to play my part well.’
He tightened his grip on her arm, pulling her closer to him. His mouth grazed the top of her head, making her more aware of him than ever.
‘I’m counting on that.’
Chapter Twelve
The hall filled rapidly with men and women—his retainers. Kal struggled to recognise any of them beyond Toka and Alff and a few of the others. Haddr and the heavily pregnant woman Kal presumed was his wife were there, but Luba was nowhere to be seen.
Despite his earlier claim of feeling unwell, Alff had appeared, leaning on Toka’s arm and keeping up banter with various men. He sat down a little way from Kal. Close enough, but too far away to engage in ready conversation.
Several of Kal’s retainers came up and wrung his hand, declaring that he was a lucky man to have Lady Cynehild as his betrothed.
He agreed, particularly as her form-fitting deep red gown and the golden cross about her neck showed that she could play the imperious lady. However, he preferred her as he’d first seen her, with her hair unbound and her dress only hinting at her curves.
His fingers itched to unwrap her and explore her lush figure for himself. If she gave her body to him, he knew he could convince her that staying and giving this betrothal a real chance would be the right thing for both the Mercians and the Danes.
‘There are rather more here than I thought there would be,’ he said, lifting her hand to his lips. ‘I appear to command far more men than I considered possible.’
‘How many desire their lord’s marriage to a woman like me?’
‘It is something to consider. Everyone appears pleased with the notion.’ He jerked his head towards where Alff sat, downing draught after draught of ale, leading the toasts with increasing gusto. ‘Now my cousin has pondered the notion, he also appears taken with the idea. One would almost think he’d thought of it in the first place.’
‘Not everyone is pleased.’ She nodded towards where Toka hovered, directing various maids to fill up the tankards. ‘Toka still seems put out.’
‘She dislikes my happiness.’
Kal pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to get rid of the buzzing in his ears. He couldn’t help feeling that he’d missed something obvious—something which connected his late wife’s death with his present situation. The memory slipped away again, and he couldn’t even be certain that it was a true one. Toka was efficient, but he knew there was a coldness to her...something missing deep within her.
He brought his fist down too heavily on the table, willing his missing memories to return. All conversation stopped and a sea of faces turned towards where he and Cyn sat. He gestured for the people to go on talking and the hum of conversation slowly resumed.
Cyn immediately put her hand on his arm. ‘Are you too tired for this?’
Kal shook his head. ‘The feast must be endured. My enemy is here, even though he decided not to challenge me earlier. I can feel it. All we require is one little error from him.’
‘There hasn’t been one so far.’
‘My enemy allowed you to find me. I take that as a point in my favour.’
* * *
When Kal’s men started wrestling, and then wagering on the outcome, Cynehild declared they would return to their chamber. Ribald shouts rang in her ears, making her cheeks flame. She’d never cared for those aspects of a war band feast when she’d presided over them as a young bride. Leofwine had always excused them, saying it was his men’s way of showing their appreciation.
‘My lady is to be respected. Always.’ Kal glared at the men and the comments ceased.
Her heart turned over. It would be easy to begin to believe that this betrothal could become real, that they could make a success of the marriage and that love could blossom. She missed a step. Love? Was that what she felt for Kal? She didn’t even truly know him.
Once in the chamber, she stared up at the beams to avoid looking at the suggestive tapestries. Whoever Kal married would be a lucky woman, but it wouldn’t be her. What they had was desire, and that was all too fleeting; true love took time to blossom and build. It was a lesson she’d learned a long time ago.
Her heart whispered that her sister Ansithe had known quite quickly about her feelings for Moir, but Ansithe had always been impetuous. Cynehild took great pleasure in making lists and having a settled routine. ‘Cautious Cynehild’, Ansithe had used to call her.
‘I’ve heard worse language,’ she remarked, after Kal had closed the door to their chamber. Someone had lit several reed lamps and dotted them about the room. ‘When I was a bride it used to shock me, but I learned to ignore it. My husband used to tell me that men must be allowed their jokes.’
‘Those remarks undermine my authority,’ he said, lighting several more lamps, so that the room was bathed in a gentle glow, making the tapestries shimmer. ‘It surprises me that your husband allowed them.’
She plastered a smile on her face. ‘Leofwine wanted to keep his men happy. And in time I learned to stop being so overly sensitive.’
‘We’ll have to disagree on this point. Your husband should have protected you. You were a living symbol of his power and prestige, if nothing else.’
‘He protected me in other ways.’ Cynehild forced a laugh. ‘What does it matter now? I’m sure your men won’t try it again.’
‘They’d better not.’
‘Despite our earlier agreement, you should have the bed,’ she said, before he could start making up a pallet and she lost he
r nerve.
He remained standing just inside the door. ‘To take the bed while you are on the floor is not the way I was raised. There is room enough for both of us.’
‘I know...’ Her voice was far too breathless. ‘And your cousin or his wife might decide to accidentally check on us.’
His eyes danced in the lamplight and a dimple flashed in the corner of his mouth. Belatedly she realised she’d given him the excuse he needed.
‘I’ll admit they might do something like that,’ he said.
Impulsively she caught his hand and gave it a squeeze. His fingers tightened about hers. Somehow it felt right.
What happened tonight would have nothing to do with her real life. Soon enough Brother Palni would return, she’d place the sword in the church and return to her everyday life. Back to existing rather than being truly alive. Back to being Wulfgar’s mother—and a grieving widow, she corrected her errant mind. But tonight she required something different—something just for her.
He brushed her hand with his lips and let go. ‘Cyn...’
‘I can easily sit up until you fall asleep, if it will make things easier,’ she said before he rejected her. ‘You will need your wits about you. We may have wrong-footed your opponent today, but tomorrow will give him a chance to regroup.’
‘You need to rest.’
He smoothed a strand of her hair from her forehead. The simple touch sent a flurry of flames coursing through her.
‘I require your clear-headed thinking until your brother-in-law arrives with his men. My own head has a constant dull throb. It is better than it was, but I remain injured.’
‘You need me to think for both of us?’ she asked, forcing her aching lips to form the words.
Life would be easier if he just swooped her into his arms and kissed her senseless. The choice would be taken from her then. She curled her fingers into a fist. A large part of her longed to be honest and admit that she needed to be in that bed with him. She wanted to feel alive again.
‘My mind is working more slowly than I’m accustomed to,’ he said, tucking his chin into his neck and stepping backwards. ‘You covered my lapses brilliantly tonight, with your quips and little jokes. I owe you another debt. More than I can ever repay.’
He watched her with hooded eyes, waiting for something.
She sighed inwardly. The moment had passed. He hadn’t given in to temptation. She should feel overjoyed that nothing was going to happen between them, but all she felt was a profound sense of loneliness. She’d wanted to be held.
‘Some day you will repay them.’
‘Do you want gold?’
He removed one of his arm rings and held it out to her. She dreaded to think how much it must be worth. It alone was probably worth more than all of Leofwine’s hidden gold.
‘Take it and it is yours.’
‘Why would I want that? I’m not greedy.’ She forced a smile and tried to change the subject to a more suitable topic. ‘I’m simply grateful that my men have suffered no lasting harm.’
An uncertain expression flickered across his face. Cynehild winced. Had she inadvertently hurt him through refusing his gold?
‘They appear well-settled,’ he said, placing the arm ring on top of his trunk. ‘No worse for what has happened to them. And I’ve ensured Alff will compensate them before they leave.’
‘They’ll appreciate it.’
She shifted her weight, knowing that this might be their last true chance to speak intimately. She should confess about Leofwine’s gold and explain, but for just one night she wanted to feel like a woman.
‘In the morning...’
He put a finger over her lips. ‘The morning has to wait. We have tonight, and the night was made for...sleeping.’
‘Sleeping?’
‘What else is night-time for?’ he teased.
‘The lamps are nearly out...’
‘Do you require darkness?’ He put his hands on either side of her face and lowered his mouth to a breath away from hers. ‘Tell me what you want me to do, Cyn, and I will do it. I want to make today’s terror go away. I want you to feel safe with me.’
Cynehild’s arms curled about his neck. His mouth was temptation personified. She knew she had to act now or regret it for ever. Later, when she’d discovered the gold and her men had returned, she’d confess, and explain why Wulfgar needed to know that his father had cared for him. If she chose the right words Kal would understand. But not now. Now she wanted to be in Kal’s arms.
‘Hold me. Make me forget what is out there, waiting for us.’
His arms came about her. He managed to engineer a tumble onto the bed, where the furs came up to meet them. ‘That is a request I can fulfil.’
She smoothed the hair from his forehead and bent to capture his lips. His mouth instantly opened and their tongues tangled before retreating. His hands roamed down her body, tracing the outline of her curves before encircling her waist and pulling her body firmly against him.
His hard arousal pushed against the apex of her thighs, dispelling her last lingering doubt about his attraction to her. A wild exhilaration filled her—their feelings were mutual. She groaned in the back of her throat.
He rolled them over so that he was on top of her. He cupped her face between his hands. ‘Why are you doing this?’
She traced the line of his jaw. His skin quivered under the pads of her fingers. ‘All my life I have done what is right and proper. I’ve walked a very straight and narrow path. Tonight, I want to forget that exists. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. What I do know is that you make me feel alive. We’re adults, and I like to think we both want this. We know it must end, yet neither of us will look back on this time with anything but joy.’
She was proud of her answer. Her declaration wasn’t about spending the rest of her life with him, or even loving him. It was about what would happen for this time out of mind when they were together. And then it would be over. They would both get on with the rest of their lives. Their desire would become ash.
She didn’t have to worry about any consequences as she still had the pouch of herbs Luba had provided her with to make a tea. Their affair had an end in sight; it was not a prelude to marriage.
Deep within her, she knew those thoughts were a lie. She wanted more, and a way for them to be together, but she needed him to say it first.
He watched her without saying anything for a long heartbeat. Then he raised her hand to his lips, turned her palm over and kissed it. ‘I agree to your conditions. Joy it is.’
A tiny stab of disappointment swept through her. No protestation that their affair should be a prelude to a real marriage? But she was the one who had made the rules.
She curled her fingers around the kiss. ‘Excellent.’
‘Talking is overrated.’
His mouth went to hers and drank from it. The fire banked inside her exploded. She forgot everything except the sensation of his mouth moving against hers. She tugged at his tunic, slipping her hands under the cloth. He reared up to help her remove the garment. Her hands travelled slowly over his back, feeling each indentation. The power in his muscles contrasted with the gentleness in his touch.
His teeth nibbled at her earlobe. ‘One of us is overdressed. Shall I help you remedy that? Your gown is far too pretty to ruin.’
She nodded.
His fingers worked at her belt and then tossed it to the ground. Then he removed her gown before his mouth traced a line down her neck. His hands cupped her full breasts and teased the nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger until they became hardened points.
Her breath came in little gasps and she clawed at his shoulders. He eased her down and lazily lowered his mouth to the first nipple. His tongue drew circles on her under-gown, caused it to dampen, before he turned his attention to the other nipple.
>
As her body wriggled the wet material rasped against her nipples, submerging her in a primitive fire. Her body arched upwards, seeking relief from the heat, but encountered their remaining clothes.
She tugged at his trousers. ‘Please...’
His eyes darkened and he returned to her mouth and feasted, tangling her tongue with his.
Slowly he inched her under-gown upwards, until his fingers were able to play in her nest of curls. Round and round his fingers roamed over her most sensitive skin, until she was slick with wanting him inside her.
She moaned in the back of her throat before the world exploded about her in a haze of stars.
As she became slowly aware of her surroundings again he reared up and removed his trousers, freeing his arousal.
He moved her palm to it. ‘Feel it. See how I want you. Put me where you want me.’
She ran her fingers down the silky hardness of him and tightened her hand, moving it back and forth. He groaned and put one hand over hers, keeping it there while his other hand returned to the apex of her thighs.
The wanting grew inside her again, becoming more urgent with every breath, and she knew what she had to do.
She twisted so that he was positioned between her thighs, and then she wrapped her legs about him. He thrust forward and filled her completely and utterly.
They lay there entwined until she slowly began to move her hips, then faster and faster, until the world exploded around her again.
* * *
Kal slowly drifted back down to earth in the aftermath. He struggled to think when he had enjoyed himself as much. Already he could feel his body hardening again within her. Once could never be enough. He wanted to spend the rest of his life exploring the hidden peaks and valleys of her body.
‘Now that you have seen how good it can be between us, Cyn, stay with me. Trust me with the secrets you are keeping. Trust me to look after you,’ he urged.
She murmured slightly and he realised she had drifted off to sleep. He slowly eased himself out and gathered her close to him. Her hand splayed on his chest and he kissed the side of her temple and made all sorts of silent promises.
Betrothed to the Enemy Viking Page 19
