She gave him a baffled look. ‘Lied to me?’
He held her chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning her face this way and that. He let her go.
‘To my mind,’ he said slowly as if he wanted to make sure the words were right, ‘you are beautiful, fearless and with a big heart, the sort of woman whom any man would long to have. Why your Mercian men are blind and why you persist in listening to them is a matter I do not care to explore.’
She closed her eyes. When he said it like that, he made her father sound selfish beyond all measure.
Perhaps Moir was right. Her father had uttered his ominous words about arranging a new betrothal for Ansithe on the morning of his departure. Getting the gold to pay his ransom would surely ensure such talk died? But it was beyond her to explain this to Moir.
‘Are you going to answer me, Kyrie?’ He caught a strand of her hair on the breeze and wrapped it between his fingers. ‘Or are you going to call me a liar?’
‘If I do, what will you do?’
His eyes crinkled. ‘What do you want me to do? How can I make you believe something like that when you are clearly determined not to?’
His warm voice curled about her insides. He was going to kiss her. Her mouth ached as if it already felt his lips against hers. All she had to do was lean forward and he would make her feel beautiful.
‘When I was younger, I liked watching the river and imagining all the places it must be going,’ she said, jumping up in a rush to change the subject. ‘I had a place up on the hill which made for a good lookout.’
He rose and put his hand on her back. The warmth that radiated outwards from his touch made the butterflies start in her stomach again. She longed to lean back and savour it. She remembered with a shiver exactly how skilfully his mouth had moved over hers in those kisses they’d shared.
He gestured with his other hand. ‘Beyond the river, there is the ocean and foreign lands.’
‘Have you seen many lands?’
‘I have seen enough. There was little future for me in the North. When Andvarr recognised this, we began to travel first to Francia and then here. I want to become in control of my own destiny instead of just labouring for someone else.’
‘I am sure you will get it. I just wish...’
‘You wish what?’ His breath caressed her ear. She watched his chest rise and fall. Propriety demanded she step away from him, but she was powerless to do so.
‘That you acquiring the land you crave doesn’t mean someone else has to lose it,’ she said to his chest. Her voice was far too breathless for her liking.
His arms fell away from her. ‘We won the war. Once there is peace, we will hold the land for ever. We can make it productive again.’
‘Who started it?’
He gave a wry smile. ‘That is a question which great lords can argue over.’
‘Because you never look beyond the next sunset.’
‘You know me so well.’ He laughed. ‘May I see your lookout spot? It intrigues me unless we don’t have time.’
He was giving her an option. She felt as if she balanced on the edge of precipice. To keep on the narrow pathway of her life, all she had to do was to return to the relative safety of the hall and her family. It suddenly did not seem appealing in the slightest.
‘There are sure to be a hundred chores which need to be done when we return,’ she warned. ‘Cynehild has a genius for finding them.’
He laced his fingers with hers and raised them to his mouth. The gentle touch made her knees go weak.
‘My men have their orders. They might even obey them, instead of listening to Bjartr’s complaints.’
‘Is he well liked?’
‘I used to think so, but my men have little time for self-pity.’
A reminder if she needed it that he, too, had responsibilities.
Ansithe clenched her jaw. She might be brave when it came to defending her home, but when it came to being alone with this man, her stomach was a mass of nerves. She knew she wanted to be the fearless warrior, the Valkyrie he thought her instead of the dried-up shell of a woman she’d spent years thinking she was, but she was scared to take the chance.
He said nothing, but held out his hand. If they returned to the manor, she’d never know. She took a deep breath.
‘My special place is this way.’ Her stomach swooped as though she had taken a great leap from a cliff.
‘I’m honoured.’
Chapter Nine
‘This is my favourite place in the whole world,’ Ansithe said and waited to see what he would say. If he could appreciate the beauty of it and understand what it meant to her, then maybe he’d understand why she wanted to save it for her family.
‘Then I am honoured you have chosen to share it with me.’
The slight rise as they approached her lookout gave Ansithe and Moir a good view over the land around Baelle Heale. The river ran like a silver ribbon through the fields, woods and water meadows.
The sound of a cracking twig made them both freeze. Moir pulled her into the shadow of an ash. His hard body met hers. Ansithe struggled to take a calming breath. All about her she noticed his scent and the way his tunic gapped at his throat.
Her stomach knotted. For a few breaths she had forgotten the danger they were in. There were outlaws all around here. Then just when she was sure they were going to be attacked, his chest rumbled with barely suppressed laughter.
She flattened her palms against him, feeling his chest muscles ripple under her palms. ‘Are you going to let me into the joke?’
He pointed with one hand, but kept the other about her waist. ‘See.’
A mother boar with five striped piglets marched out into the clearing and looked at them quizzically. The nearest piglet had a very muddy backside as if he had been wallowing in a puddle.
The muscles in her neck eased. She breathed deeply. No outlaws or Danes to fight, but a boar snuffling about in the dirt.
‘I thought it would be far worse. Would that life held nothing more than worrying about where to find the next mud bath?’
His hand cupped her face. Gentle fingers smoothed her cheek with light feathery touches which made her think again of butterfly wings. ‘I would have protected you.’
‘I can look after myself.’ She barely recognised her voice. She wet her suddenly dry lips. Every particle of her was aware of him and how close they stood. How all she had to do was to lift her mouth...
‘But you don’t have to. You are far from being alone. I’m here.’
She raised her face, intending to say something, but the words died on her lips when she encountered the intense expression on his countenance. ‘I know where you are.’
His mouth lowered and took hers. Unlike the hurried kisses from before, this kiss was deeper, slower and more questing. As if he knew he could take his time. She opened her mouth and accepted his tongue. Her heart wanted to stop beating and her bones melted into him.
Her back arched towards him, her breasts meeting his hardened planes. There was not an ounce of fat on him. This was the body of a man who worked hard, rather than that of an old and infirm man. She placed her hands on his chest as his hands roamed over her back. She was aware her couvre-chef had come off and he tangled his fingers in her hair, sending it cascading down about her neck.
A small cry escaped her throat.
He lifted his mouth from hers. His eyes were a stormy puddle of blue. ‘We should go. Return to the hall before something happens that we might regret.’
Regret. She forced her fingers to release his tunic. Her mouth tasted sour. He had done this for his men so that she would free them and now was regretting it.
‘You regret this?’ she asked with a wobble in her voice.
‘Only if it makes you unhappy.’ His voice held a husky rasp that sent a fire coursing throug
h her.
Unhappy. Lying was futile. His kisses made her feel everything but unhappy. She had spent a lifetime thinking she was ugly, unworthy and incapable of ever being desired. His touch had shown her what a lie that had been. All these years she’d been wrong. Moir found her desirable.
‘You were right about living in the moment.’ She tried to ignore the way her mouth throbbed. ‘My future might never happen the way I want it to. Everyone except me seems to anticipate it going in a certain way. I want to believe I can have a future which will make me happy.’
He covered her hand with his. ‘Don’t play cruel games with me. I’ve stayed away because I know how dangerous it might be for you should people discover that you and I were together. I refuse to risk your life.’
Her stomach tightened. He was talking about more than a faceless society disapproving of them. ‘Because you have a feud with Guthmann? Because you fear what he might do to me if he knew you and I had been together.’
‘I won’t always be here to protect you, but Guthmann is a powerful enemy. He swore a vow to kill me and harm those who were closest to me, particularly any woman I might care about.’
A frisson of cold ran down her spine. Guthmann had sent a severed finger to ensure his ransom demand was paid. He made promises, not threats.
‘I doubt very much that I will ever meet Guthmann,’ she said in a shaky voice. ‘I want to be here with you right now, not thinking beyond the next sunset. I don’t want to live my life in the shadows of fear. I want to live it in the light.’
He stilled. ‘What are you saying, Ansithe?’
She sighed, wishing she’d kept quiet. Things were simpler before she’d realised his desire for her was as real as hers was for him. ‘I like how my name sounds on your lips?’
‘Answer the question,’ he demanded, piercing her with his fierce gaze.
She kept her head high. She had already humiliated herself enough. She could not do worse. If he rejected her, then at least she’d know. ‘I have found it impossible to forget about the kisses we have shared. They have occupied my thoughts and dreams. I find myself thinking about them at odd times. Like when I was trying to do embroidery or when we were chasing sheep.’
‘Your dreams.’ He gave a crooked smile. ‘Do I behave properly in them? Do we indulge in kisses?’
Ansithe looked out at the silver river snaking below their feet, rather than tumbling into his gaze. Her arms tingled like they had before the Northman broke open their door. She was at a dividing place in her life. She could curl up small and have regrets for the rest of her life or she could be brave and bold. ‘What I dream about is joining with you.’
The words hung in the air and suddenly she wished she could unsay them.
With careful hands, he turned her to face him. ‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Because I want to do something just for me. I want to know what it is like to be desired when you are joining with a man.’ He started to say something, but she put a finger to his lips. ‘I know we have no future together. I’m not asking for one. I am telling you my dreams because you asked.’
Something flared in his eyes. ‘Do you think that little of me?’
‘Elene will return any day with the Mercian warriors and everything will change, but for once in my life I want to feel cherished. Your touch...makes me feel beautiful.’
She pressed her hands together. He made no move to take her into his arms or to kiss her.
She moved away from him and kept her gaze on the ground. A grasshopper hid under a clump of grass. A butterfly rose in the air, circled and flew away. ‘I have made a mess of things again. Those kisses were given out of pity.’
‘The last thing I feel for you is pity. Passion, desire and a longing to fully taste you, but not pity.’ He raised her chin, so she was forced to meet his piercing gaze.
‘Truly?’
He smiled wickedly. ‘Your kisses kept me awake, too. All my dreams were of you and what I’d like to do with you. Your touch has nearly unmanned me and if you have any doubts, tell me now before we pass the point of no return.’
Her heart beat so hard that she felt it would jump out of her chest. ‘That is a start.’
‘I can’t make any promises, but I vow—my desire for you has nothing to do with my duty towards my men. I will fight for them when the time comes, but I’ve no intention of manipulating you.’ He caught her hand and held it against the front of his trousers. ‘I get to be the judge of who excites my blood, not you.’
She withdrew her hand. Her palm tingled where it had touched his straining hardness.
‘I’m not asking for promises and you needn’t worry that there will be children. My late husband proclaimed me barren and unable to perform a wife’s duty.’
He watched her with shadowed eyes. ‘Your late husband was by all accounts a lying fool.’
‘Perhaps we should go back. I may have had a touch of the sun.’ She shaded her eyes. ‘I would never have said such a thing out loud.’
He caught her wrist, holding her in place. ‘I won’t permit you to unsay it. I’m glad you said it, but why do you want this?’
‘Because I don’t want to lie to you. It was a simple enough dream.’
She tugged, but his hand slipped down and intertwined her fingers with his, keeping her at his side. Her fingers curled about his. They stood like that, watching the river, aware of each other’s breathing, aware of each other’s small movements.
‘Then I agree.’
The words made her heart hammer. ‘You do?’
His smile made her insides turn to liquid fire. ‘Do you know how delectable you look when you ask this? How could a man like me refuse you anything?’
A thrill went through her. He desired her body. He did not consider her shrivelled up. He wanted to join with her. She had to wonder if her husband had misled her about other things as well as her desirability as a woman.
‘When it is over, we will part without regrets.’ She gave a little laugh and knew she’d hug the memories close. She might never have a child to hold in her arms, but she could have the memory of being truly desired, whatever her future held.
He raised her fingers to his lips. His eyes peered into hers as if he could see deep into her soul and discern her growing feelings for him and that it would be something more than two bodies meeting for her.
She swayed towards him, licking her bottom lip. The fire in his eyes deepened to a brilliant blue.
‘We will part when the time comes because that is what the fates decree. But this will be a private time for us and us alone.’
He took each finger into his mouth and suckled. Warmth shot through her, making her gasp and melting her bones. Her back arched. A great well of heat opened in her middle, searing her with its intensity.
‘Do we wait for darkness?’ he asked, pulling her to him so that her body had support from his. She clung to him like a drowning man clings to a spar. And the evidence of his arousal pushed into the apex of her thighs. Not soft or hesitant, but hard and firm. ‘Or will you reveal your body to me in the sunshine? I have dreamt about how it must look—your long legs and firm breasts. The body of a Valkyrie, a goddess.’
‘My late husband insisted on darkness. He doused the torches and threw himself on me,’ she answered, straightening her spine. ‘I want this to be different. I want there to be no secrets between us. If you don’t like what you see, you must tell me.’
His husky laugh sent a warm pulse racing up and down her spine. ‘Soon you will see what I see, what I can touch and then you will know that you could never disappoint me.’
His hand slipped down her back, cupping her buttocks and pulled her more firmly against his growing arousal.
His mouth tugged at her earlobe, making lazy circles on her neck before moving to her face. He rained small kisses on her temple before goin
g back to administer to her ear. His hot breath teased her. The liquid fire built up within her. She had never expected such a simple touch would make a great well of longing open within her.
He fumbled at her cloak’s fastening so he could lay it on the ground. She moved his hand and with a practised move undid the hidden clasp and shrugged it off. Then he eased her back against the sweet grasses. As she lay back, several small blue butterflies rose and circled up into the air. The air tasted of flowers and him.
He loosened her gown and pushed the material so that her neck and the gentle swell of her breasts were exposed. He pressed his lips against the hollow at the base of her throat, biting down gently.
Her body bucked upwards and her nipples hardened to points which rubbed against the fine linen of her under-gown. His fingers slipped down, capturing first one nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, then doing the same to its begging twin.
Her fingers pushed his tunic up and explored the contours of his bare torso. She felt the knots of old scarring and the hard sinew. Moir was a warrior who had fought in many battles, but he was also in the prime of life. She’d never touched a warrior this intimately before. Her hands revelled in how his muscles shifted and twisted as he moved.
He took off the tunic, naked except for the pendant about his neck. The summer sun blazed down on his golden-shot skin. He was all hard planes and delicious muscle. Her mouth went dry. This man, this beautiful shining male, desired her?
She reached out and touched the pendant. ‘What is that for?’
‘All I have left from my mother,’ he said.
Before she could say anything more, he lowered his mouth and sucked her nipple in. Round and round went his tongue, wetting the cloth until all thoughts and doubts vanished from her mind.
He lifted her skirts so that they were gathered about her waist, revealing her long, slender legs.
‘How could you think I would not like these perfect limbs? These round mounds? This inviting belly?’
A Deal with Her Rebel Viking Page 13