A Deal With Her Rebel Viking (HQR Historical)

by Michelle Styles

  She moaned in the back of her throat and looped her hands about his neck and the passion of the kiss increased.

  He loosened her hands and stepped back. ‘Your sister? When will she return?’

  ‘Elene has other plans tonight,’ she whispered against his mouth. ‘She is deliberately staying away, claiming that she needs to look after the injured men. A lie, of course. She is giving me an opportunity.’

  He stared into her eyes. ‘Does it bother you that she has guessed about us?’

  ‘I wasn’t sure whether she had or not,’ Ansithe admitted. ‘She insisted I make an effort and gave me a lecture about men and their ways. I think she is secretly hoping that you will come here. She has a romantic soul.’

  He loosened his hold and leant away from her. ‘And you? Is that what you want?’

  A lump formed in her throat. She knew that she loved him, but he had never made any pretence that their relationship was to last. It had been a summer’s romance for him and, for her, it was something she’d remember for the rest of her life. She knew heartache was coming, but she wanted one last night with him.

  ‘We are living in the present and it is a while yet until the next sunrise,’ she said and hoped he wouldn’t hear the lie. ‘I am not going to think about tomorrow until it arrives.’

  He rubbed her cheek with his knuckle, sending little shivers through her. ‘No tears when it does.’

  ‘I will treasure our time together in my memory.’ Ansithe choked back the words that would confess her love for him. It was far too dangerous a feeling. She had nearly lost him today and she was losing him tomorrow, but that would be a different type of loss—she’d know at least that he would be alive and one day might even think of her with a smile.

  ‘You are wearing your serious face.’

  She ran her hands down his arms and tangled his fingers with hers. She leant towards him and brushed her lips against his. ‘Am I? It is only because I am trying to decide what to do with you. One last night to enjoy.’

  His fingers tightened and pulled her towards him. ‘What to do with me?’

  ‘I don’t always want to take. I want to give as well.’

  He nuzzled her earlobe. ‘I would like that very much.’

  Her fingers quickly undid his tunic. He pulled off his trousers, so he was standing there naked in front of her.

  She drew in her breath, reached out her hand and encountered the warm muscle of his chest.

  ‘You are so beautiful.’

  He captured her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘You are a flatterer. I bear many scars and imperfections.’

  In response she trailed her mouth down his chest, exploring, tracing the outline of his nipples with her tongue. They tightened to hardened points under her ministrations. His swift intake of breath and the rapid hardening of his member against her thigh showed her his rampant arousal.

  Trailing her tongue down his stomach, she rejoiced in her power. She was doing this to him. Any remaining doubts about her lack of feminine charms vanished. For him, she was woman enough.

  She moved her mouth lower still, licking and stroking him, cupping him until he groaned and tugged at her shoulders.

  His face had a fiery intensity to it. ‘If you keep this up, I can’t make any guarantees about how long I’ll last and I want it to be good for you.’

  ‘With you, it is always good.’

  ‘You make it so easy.’

  She pushed his chest with her hand and he tumbled backwards on to the furs, taking her with him. They lay there, her body on top of his, his fingers cupping her buttocks.

  Then she straddled him, teasing him with her nest of curls, making little circles about his erection as the primitive fire deep within her flamed higher.

  His hands gripped her on either side of her hips, held her there, helping her call the rhythm. Faster and faster. Circles and figures of eight. His groan echoed through the tent and his groin arched upwards.

  When she could stand it no longer, she opened the apex of her thighs wider and sheathed him. He went deep and then even deeper until she felt he must have touched her inner core.

  She began to ride him. Slowly at first, but gaining momentum until the world became nothing but him.

  She poured everything into that moment, letting her body tell him secrets that she had only half-understood herself and was too frightened even to whisper.

  His body instantly responded. She teetered on the edge of the abyss, knowing what was coming and thought she must have been born for this.

  His mouth caught her cries of completion.

  * * *

  Moir floated gently back down to earth. He remained buried deep within her and she was collapsed on top of him, barely breathing.

  He put his arms about her and knew that he would never again be as happy as he was in that moment.

  From a brief heartbeat, he allowed himself to dream about what life would be like with her always at his side and how their children would be. A girl with flaming red hair who could shoot straight like her mother and a boy with her eyes and maybe his hair. They would grow strong and free without the dark shadows he’d experienced as a child.

  He could almost reach out, touch them and gather them into his arms. He ached to hold them, the children that he hadn’t realised he desperately wanted until he’d met this woman.

  He blinked and the vison vanished as if it had never been. Wisps of dreams.

  He opened his mouth to say something about looking after any child of his that she bore, but at her half-awake, half-asleep expression he closed it again. She had claimed to be barren, but he wondered again if it had been her late husband’s age and infirmity that had been the problem. The last thing he wanted was to cause a quarrel. They would know soon enough if there were consequences to their passion. He allowed the words to be unsaid rather than disturb her.

  She murmured something indistinct. He chose to believe it was his name.

  He knew he had lied earlier. He didn’t want her for the moment or the next day. He wanted her for ever, but it had to be done honourably. He had to make an offer to her father, before he asked her to abandon her life for the uncertainty of his.

  ‘I love you,’ he whispered against her hair. ‘You have given my life meaning. I will not fail you. I want to return to you. Wait for me.’

  She muttered gently in her sleep and he tightened his arms about her.

  * * *

  The light shone a dull grey when Ansithe woke suddenly. The place next to her was vacant, but still just warm. She glanced up and saw Moir, fully dressed, watching her.

  ‘It is far too early.’

  ‘It is owl-light. Dawn will be coming soon. We should speak properly, while we are alone. There are things which need to be said. Things we didn’t say to one another last night.’

  She stood up and went over to him. Her entire being ached. Her throat was thick with unshed tears. Whatever happened she refused to disgrace herself. Weeping was for later when no one could see.

  ‘You are going to do it just like Elene suggested. You are going to save yourself and leave in the dead of night. You are going to escape. The outlaws will provide enough gold. They will believe the brooch story as it was me who captured you.’

  ‘No. I know what I need to do. I gave my word to you I wouldn’t try to escape.’

  Ansithe cupped both hands about his face, forcing him to look at her. ‘Run. I thought about it most of the night. The guards will not stop you or your men.’

  ‘Running away was my father’s trick. Not mine. I’d lose the little honour I have left.’ His mouth became a thin white line. ‘I’ll not deny that I didn’t think about escaping at the beginning, but I could not do it now. I would not endanger your family. I’m determined to protect you.’

  Ansithe’s breath caught. He was right. She could not ask
him to betray his code. ‘To protect me? From the outlaws? You think they will attack my family?’

  His mouth turned down. ‘I need to understand why they attacked Elene’s party. Go back to Baelle Heale where you will be safe.’

  He was dismissing her. Her heart had hoped for much more, but she refused to beg him.

  ‘I wanted to dream for another heartbeat that there was somewhere where we could be together.’ She closed her eyes briefly and then opened them. She forced a smile. ‘It is fine. I promised not to cry when we parted.’

  He gave one of his smiles which was intended to melt her heart, but his eyes remained shadowed. ‘Right now, our destinies lie along separate paths.’

  ‘Are you certain?’

  ‘Let me remember you like this, here in this tent, not out there surrounded by everyone else. It will sustain me.’ He placed something smooth and warm in her hand. ‘Keep this with you. It has kept me safe since my mother gave it to me just before she died. Look at it sometimes and remember me.’

  She opened her hand and saw a red-gold amber bead on a leather cord. His mother’s good luck charm, the one he’d said he wore to remind him of his promise. ‘You don’t need this any more?’

  ‘It is better with you.’

  ‘You expect something bad will happen to you.’ She held it out. ‘Take it back. I want you safe.’

  His face turned serious. ‘I’d rather you kept it until we meet again.’

  Until they met again. So he was planning on seeing her again. Her heart rose...then immediately sank. ‘When you retrieve Palni, you mean.’

  Moir gave a crooked smile and closed her fingers about the pendant. ‘Something like that. Look at that and know I expect to see you again. Soon.’

  ‘Bjartr has found his courage now. He will be an able leader in time,’ she said around the lump in her throat.

  A horn sounded. Moir placed a cool kiss on her forehead. ‘I have to go. Stay in this tent. Don’t come out. Not if you care anything for me.’

  Ansithe knew she’d stay in the tent and let him go. He had to do his duty. And he was right—his honour was something she loved about him. Without it, he would not be the man she loved. She put her hand against her stomach and hated that she was barren and would not even have a child to remember him by. She slipped the pendant over her head.

  ‘I will wear it by my heart always.’

  ‘Thank you for understanding.’ He walked out without a backward glance.

  She stood there for a long breath, wondering if she should chase after him and demand she go with him. Except he’d asked her not to. She had to respect his decision because she loved him with her whole heart.

  She gave a low moan and sank to the ground, rocking back and forth. She wanted to lie down and never get up. Her entire being ached. If this was what love was like, she wanted no part of it.

  * * *

  ‘Ansithe?’ Elene’s worried voice sounded from outside some time later when the sun shone directly on the tent. ‘They have gone and you didn’t even say goodbye to them.’

  ‘Because it wasn’t goodbye. It could never be goodbye,’ Ansithe whispered to the ground. Then she stood, wiped her eyes and arranged the folds of her gown. She’d face the world because he’d want her to. She’d honour him in that way. Each evening, she’d look at the sunset, hold his pendant and think about him until he returned.

  She walked out with her head held high. Even the air felt empty and bereft. ‘We ride to Baelle Heale to warn Cynehild and prepare for Father’s return.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘I was correct in my decision to send you away, Moir,’ the jaarl Andvarr declared, handing Moir a ring from his finger. ‘You have made my son into a man. I can tell by the way he stands. I owe you a life debt.’

  To Moir’s astonishment, Andvarr had the gold ready when Moir returned with Nerian and the rest to the camp. He had also immediately taken charge of the prisoners. Nerian had collected the gold which now belonged to Ansithe, part of which would be used to pay her family’s ransom. In a short while Moir would make everything right.

  ‘That was not my doing,’ Moir said.

  ‘You are far too modest, Moir.’ Andvarr cleared his throat. ‘And as I suspected the other matter has blown over like a storm on a summer’s day.’

  ‘Other matter? You mean my quarrel with Guthmann. We did not encounter him.’ Moir’s hand instinctively went for the amber bead and encountered air. A prickle of unease passed through him.

  ‘Guthmann pledged his loyalty to me before we last parted. He no longer holds you and your mistake against me or anyone who is in this felag.’ Andvarr made an irritated noise. ‘He no longer wishes to insist on you being made a wolf’s head for scarring his face. So it is a start.’

  ‘Guthmann is a treacherous snake and not to be trusted.’ Moir gritted his teeth. ‘I make no apology for saving that woman’s life. I warned him I would not allow him to harm her and he would not listen.’

  ‘She was his captive. It was not your or my son’s place to interfere.’

  Moir clenched his fists and struggled to control his temper. It was not like that at all as Andvarr well knew. He’d been the one to request that Moir investigate the woman’s whereabouts as she was the wife of an important Mercian lord. ‘Andvarr, you know what happened. Why I acted. We agreed...’

  ‘Things have changed. I require Guthmann’s men. There is trouble brewing with the Saxons to the south-east. I intend to hold the lands we have conquered. Guthmann was within his rights to do what he did. The woman had strayed.’

  Moir rolled his eyes. Andvarr was always looking for what would give him the most power. ‘There will always be trouble brewing. Guthmann is a particularly faithless ally.’

  ‘He is prepared to forgive you. Remember that when you next encounter each other.’

  ‘When should I next encounter him? When I deliver the ransom gold?’

  If there was an alliance between Guthmann and Andvarr, Moir knew he would be departing for Iceland sooner rather than later. After he had freed Ansithe’s father and made his formal offer for her hand, then he would see if Ansithe would accompany him to Iceland.

  ‘Guthmann has left to get married. Some Mercian lady. I can’t remember her name, but he said that he was obsessed with her.’

  Moir cursed. So much for trying to arrive with Ansithe’s family at Baelle Heale within a few days of her return. ‘Did he take his hostages with him? Or did he leave them to be exchanged?’

  ‘Exchanged? What are in the name of Odin are you talking about?’

  ‘Part of the gold is to go to Guthmann to release the ealdorman Wulfgar and his son-in-law.’ Moir named the sum which was considerably less than the amount of gold Andvarr had given Nerian as the ransom for his son, Moir and the others. ‘I am determined that this will happen without delay.’

  ‘The ealdorman Wulfgar?’ Andvarr’s brow furled. ‘But he is no longer a hostage.’

  ‘Is he dead?’

  Andvarr laughed. ‘He is the father of Guthmann’s bride-to-be. I believe it is his middle daughter.’

  Moir froze. Guthmann was planning on marrying Ansithe? He had to have heard wrong. ‘When did this come about?’

  ‘He departed about a week ago, just after the rumours started spreading about your capture by a woman.’

  ‘Did he know who captured me?’ Moir’s stomach twisted into knots. Guthmann was doing this for one reason and one reason only. He wanted to taunt Moir.

  ‘He knew it was a woman, but that is all. I believe he was extremely amused by it. You, the great saviour of Ashdown, the strength in our shield wall, beaten by a mere woman.’ Andvarr laughed. ‘Come, why the serious face, Moir? You must see the amusing side of it.’

  ‘You would do well not to underestimate Lady Ansithe.’

  ‘We have much to discuss. You have lands
to choose. Leave Guthmann to his bride. That is all I ask.’

  Moir’s heart knocked. He had thought to ensure Ansithe’s safety by sending her back to Baelle Heale while he dealt with any threat that Guthmann might pose. He’d badly miscalculated. Rather than keeping her safe, he had sent her into danger. It now made perfect sense why those so-called outlaws had harried Nerian and the Lady Elene to prevent them returning to collect the Northmen. They had been trying to keep him stuck in Baelle Heale until Guthmann could arrive.

  So, far from his anger at Moir vanishing, Guthmann was about to try to exact his revenge on the woman Moir loved.

  However, there remained the faintest of hopes that Ansithe and her sister had not yet returned to Baelle Heale. If he left now, he might reach them before they arrived. He could keep them safe until they worked out what to do about her father and Guthmann. ‘We have nothing to discuss. I have done my duty to you. Now I must do my duty towards the woman who saved my life. Give me leave to find her and take her to safety. She cannot be left to Guthmann’s mercies. I—We all owe her our lives.’

  ‘It is out of my hands, Moir. I forgave you and your temper once, I will not do so a second time. You will leave Guthmann alone. That is an order.’

  ‘I cannot do that.’

  Andvarr gave a pitying smile. ‘There will be other women, Moir. Stay with me or leave this felag’s protection. How long do you think you can stand alone against Guthmann and his warriors? I am prepared to overlook this unfortunate episode, but you disappoint me greatly.’

  Moir took off the ring Andvarr had given him and threw it at his former jaarl’s feet. His fist connected with Andvarr’s jaw and sent him flying backwards. ‘You cannot order me to do anything. You are no longer my jaarl.’

  * * *

  ‘Why is Father’s banner fluttering from the roof?’ Elene asked, making her horse stop.

  Ansithe shielded her eyes against the sun and looked at where Elene was pointing. Their journey back to Baelle Heale had taken slightly longer than she’d anticipated as Ecgbert’s horse had pulled up lame. And the horses refused to move faster than a slow walk in the heat.