In Bed with the Viking Warrior

by Harper St. George

  He licked his lips, unwilling to bring up discussion of her husband, but at the same time yearning to know about her. It bothered him the way she’d been so unwilling to respond to him. It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to. There had been very real fear in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, he decided to just ask. ‘Why were you so unwilling to let me hear you?’

  She stiffened and he stroked his hand down her arm to her small hand, settling his own on top of it. To his relief, she didn’t try to pull away and relaxed into him again. ‘I didn’t think you’d want to.’

  He lay still for a moment as he contemplated what that meant. As far as he could tell, she’d only been with her husband. His arm clenched her to him a little bit tighter. ‘Did he tell you to be quiet?’

  It wasn’t necessary to say his name. They both knew. She nodded, her hair sliding against his chest, and her hand turned over underneath his so they were palm to palm. When she spoke, her voice was so soft he had to strain to hear it. ‘He said that only whores make sounds. Only whores move during it. Only whores enjoy it. I suppose that’s what I am now.’

  ‘Nay!’ He shifted so that he was on his side facing her, but he kept his arm around her and their legs tangled together. It was impossible to get closer and still see her face. ‘Your body was made to enjoy the touch of mine. Did he never touch you to ease his way?’

  She shook her head and her wide green eyes were almost his undoing. ‘He wasn’t gentle...not like you. It was a duty to him.’

  The thought of her at that man’s mercy was a knife to his heart. ‘Did he hurt you?’

  She leaned forward and dropped her forehead to his shoulder. His chest tightened in gratification that she was seeking comfort from him, while at the same time he suspected she hid in needless embarrassment. He ran his hand up and down her back while still keeping her close.

  ‘Sometimes. Not intentionally, perhaps, but...’

  But how could it be avoided if she wasn’t ready when he took her? He closed his eyes and fought the rage that clawed within him. ‘You’re perfect, fair one. I’m sorry that happened to you.’ It was all he could think to say to adequately express the depth of his feelings.

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t think I was a very good wife.’

  ‘He wasn’t a very good husband.’ She was so small against him, and when he’d pushed inside her, she’d been so tight he would’ve injured her if he’d gone too fast. Only a coward would’ve been anything but gentle with her.

  Surprising him, she met his gaze and agreed with him. ‘You’re right, he wasn’t.’ The way she looked at him then, eyes soft and full of something better left unexamined, made him think she was imagining him as her husband. He liked it.

  Then she sat back a little, resting on her elbow. ‘I...I don’t expect you to stay...if you want to leave.’

  ‘What if I don’t want to leave yet?’

  The way her eyes lit up, despite the way she tried to hide it, made him harden instantly. She must see it, but he was reluctant to push her if she didn’t want more. Instead, he took her hand and put it on his stomach. He grinned when her fingertips moved lower of their own volition. She stopped just short of touching him, but she was right there. ‘Thought I might stay awhile. I’m uncertain how these things work, but it seems reasonable to expect better results if we try often.’

  Her eyes widened.

  ‘Unless you don’t want to... Did I hurt you?’

  Her shy gaze flitted away just to come right back to him. ‘Nay. It was...better than I’d imagined. I just...I don’t know what happens now. Where do we go from here?’

  His heart shuddered to a stop, before resuming its already frantic pace. ‘I’ll come to you when it’s safe.’

  Anticipation brightened her eyes for a moment before she tamped it down. ‘I know that Edyth believes that making a child is a task that should be undertaken daily. We don’t have much time.’ She glanced away and her cheeks turned pink again. ‘Your seed will have to take root this month or the next at the latest.’

  His shaft jerked in response to the very idea of being inside her every one of those nights. ‘Every night, then.’ Grabbing her hips to drag her astride him, he pulled her forward so that his throbbing shaft was nestled against her centre. ‘Can you do it again tonight?’

  When her eyes widened, they’d darkened so the light green was a mere sliver. Her breathing changed to shallow gasps. ‘Aye.’

  He loved the way she wanted this as much as he did and couldn’t resist grinding up against her to watch her mouth fall open in a groan. She wasn’t trying to hide it any more.

  ‘We can try two or three times a night, just to be safe,’ she said, rising up to get her balance with her knees on either side of him.

  As he watched himself disappear inside her, he realised that a few weeks would never be enough. Regardless if his seed took root, he wanted more time.

  * * *

  It turned out every night wasn’t enough. Magnus craved her during the day as well. He was mad. It was the only explanation for why he’d attacked her the moment they were far enough away from her village that no one would see them. It was the only explanation for why he’d thought it might be a good idea to allow her to sit astride him and milk him of his seed in the broad light of day. Neither of them had attempted to keep themselves quiet. His throat was still raw from calling out his release.

  Clutching her to his chest, he managed to drag his eyes open to scan the area. Aside from the trees that bore silent witness to their mating, there were no signs of life. No one had seen them. By the gods, he hoped no one had heard them. His gaze dropped to the empty basket that had been tossed to the side and he was assailed by a wave of guilt. She’d asked him to come with her so that she’d be safe gathering plants for Edyth. It’d be the last she’d get before the frost set in, which would happen any day now.

  ‘I’m sorry, fair one.’ His lips pressed into her hair, making him remember how he’d torn her headrail away to get to the silky mass of reddish-brown tresses. Somewhere off to the right, it fluttered in the cool breeze. ‘I can’t control myself with you.’

  She laughed and looked up at him from where she straddled his lap, placing a kiss on his bearded chin. ‘Why do you think I asked you to come with me? Edyth has all the herbs she’ll need to last through winter.’

  He groaned at the further confirmation that she was as lost as he was. ‘That explains yesterday.’ It’d been less than a week and they were already becoming reckless. He’d taken her the previous morning after they’d finished their meal. They’d only just finished moments before Cuthbert had knocked on the door, requesting a new tapestry for his hall, and this was followed soon by the arrival of her apprentices. It could’ve been disastrous.

  She giggled and cuddled against him. He’d noticed she did that more lately. Laughed. She touched him and found comfort in those touches. Every night she’d fallen asleep in his arms, seeking him out as she slept, and he’d bemoaned having to leave her alone to go back to his temporary home. He wanted to know what it was like to wake up with her. But the same instinct that told him how to touch her and how to fight was telling him now that they weren’t meant to last.

  He didn’t belong here. There was an unknown life out there waiting for him, looming over them.

  Drawing her face up to his, he kissed her gently. She kissed him back before moving away to arrange her skirts and he fastened his trousers. But instead of letting her get away, he pulled her back on to his lap and buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair.

  ‘When will you know about a babe?’

  ‘I’m due for my—’ She broke off, embarrassed. ‘Any day now, but Edyth says sometimes that can happen even with a babe in the womb. It’ll take months to know for certain.’

  He nodded and took a deep breath, hating what he had to say. He’d put it off
for days now and couldn’t put it off any longer. He probably should’ve left as soon as his sword had been returned to him. ‘I’m leaving tonight.’

  ‘Why?’ From the way her face paled, he knew she thought the worst.

  ‘Only for a few days.’ He ran a hand over her hair, tucking a strand back behind her ear. ‘I need to find out who I am. The only clue I have is how I woke up and the rebel Dane who followed me. I need to go back and see if I can find them.’

  ‘Go back! Why would you go back to the men who tried to kill you?’

  ‘Because they knew me.’ He’d yet to tell her his name and how he’d figured it out. The guilt still grated at him, but he absolutely could not tell anyone until he knew for sure what he’d be revealing. What if they knew the name Magnus as belonging to an enemy? ‘They’re the only clue I have to my identity.’

  ‘You haven’t remembered anything?’ She took his hand and brought it to her lips. She did it so absently as she pondered his declaration that he wondered if she was even aware of it. His thumb traced over her kiss-swollen bottom lip and then the pink skin beneath where his beard had rubbed against her. By the gods, it should be obvious to everyone what they were doing.

  ‘Not much. I have visions of battle. There are faces, but I don’t know who they are.’ He’d yet to have another like that strange dream of his childhood.

  ‘Faces?’

  Her face fell, and he couldn’t help but smile at her misplaced jealousy. ‘Men, fair one. Friends...enemies... I don’t know which.’

  His words didn’t seem to help as she brought her hands up to her face. ‘What if there is a woman? You may have children with her. What have I done? I’ve stolen from her and you—’

  ‘Nay. Aisly, look at me.’ He took her hands and pulled them down to see her face. ‘Your village felt wrong. I know that I don’t belong there. Your food, your ale, your language, it all feels wrong. But you...you feel right. This...’ he pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers ‘...this is right.’

  ‘You say that as if this is more than getting me with child.’

  His heart pounded so hard he was certain she must feel it beating against her breast. He knew he shouldn’t say more because it was so out of reach, but he couldn’t hold back any more. ‘It could easily become more than that for me.’ It already had.

  She sucked in a breath as her gaze flew to his.

  ‘I don’t want to go away after winter and never see you again.’

  ‘You could stay.’ Her eyes widened with cautious hope.

  He took in a deep breath. ‘I belong somewhere, Aisly. Somewhere out there I have responsibilities, people waiting for me.’

  She paused and took a breath before gently posing the question. ‘What if you don’t? What if those men with you were all you had?’

  Magnus had tried to match up the faces of the men who’d died next to him with those in his dreams, but with no success. He’d been barely coherent when he awoke on the pile of bodies to commit any of their faces to memory. He was almost certain that he’d lost some friends to that battle, but it wasn’t likely that was everyone. ‘I don’t think there’s a woman, but I must have family, people somewhere. Besides that, I’m a warrior. You deserve more stability than I could offer you.’

  She nodded, acceptance and understanding in her eyes. She’d thought about that. She wanted a family and he could give her a child, but he couldn’t give her that promise of a home that she wanted.

  As the days had passed and he’d learned more about her people, he’d realised that he was not one of them. Wulfric, like her brother, had taken to referring to him as ‘the Dane’, not ‘foreigner’ as the others called him. Magnus was hard pressed to refute him. The phrase ‘by the gods’ came with more frequency to his lips. It wasn’t the phrase of a Saxon. Aye, there were other people who were bound to believe in other gods, but they were in faraway places. The Danes were here, he was here. It made sense.

  ‘Have you considered the fact that your brother is right? That I’m a Dane?’ He’d never voiced the thought to her, but he couldn’t hold back.

  She stiffened immediately and shook her head. ‘It’s not true. Alstan was merely being bitter.’

  Magnus had refrained from speaking in the tongue that came natural to him—the one he used in his dreams—because he hadn’t been sure he wouldn’t be signing his death sentence. But now that he saw her looking at him with such trust, such tenderness, it seemed almost deceitful. What if he’d spoken it and Alstan had recognised it? What if he’d offered up his name and Alstan had known him? What if Magnus had stolen her heart only to foster her hatred if it was revealed that he was the enemy?

  He had to figure out his identity as soon as possible. She deserved that.

  ‘It could be true.’

  ‘It’s not true.’ Her eyes widened in desperation. ‘I care about you too much for that to be true. They are horrible men and you’re not one of them.’

  He moved a hand up and down her arm to calm her.

  She took a deep breath and continued, ‘I understand your need to figure out your past, but you’re not well.’

  He smiled and tightened his arms around her, whispering against her temple, ‘I think we both know I’m healthy enough.’

  Her eyes softened, but she didn’t smile. ‘For that, aye, but you’ll be gone for days.’

  He’d already planned it out, so he was ready to put her fears to rest. ‘I’m much better thanks to you and Edyth. I don’t need her poultices any more. My dizziness is gone and the headaches are less frequent. I’ll take plenty of food to see me through. It’ll only be a few days.’

  ‘I’ll worry,’ she whispered, lowering her face.

  He pulled her tight against his chest and brushed kisses along the gentle curve of her cheekbone. ‘I’ll come back to you, fair one. I promise.’ Her small hand ran over his chest and settled on his heartbeat. This strange connection had been between them from the very beginning. The past few days had only fanned that flame into a full-blown fire. ‘I need you to promise me something.’

  She looked up at him again with a question in her eyes.

  ‘I’ll come say goodbye first, but I’m going to leave tonight. I need you to not say anything.’

  ‘Why would you leave without telling anyone?’

  ‘Cuthbert has made vague references to sending men with me to backtrack my path. It’s a solid idea, but I can’t do it with his men. They mean well, but I’ve never fought with them and I can’t trust their instincts.’

  ‘That means it’ll be more dangerous for you.’

  He gave one firm shake of his head. ‘Nay, it’s safer. Alone I can travel faster, quieter. If I do find the rebel Danes, I can watch them and try to learn without confrontation.’

  She nodded. ‘I won’t mention you leaving, but won’t Cuthbert be upset when you come back?’

  ‘Perhaps, but I’d rather face his wrath than go with warriors I don’t trust.’ Besides, Cuthbert had proven to be an honest man. He’d listen to whatever Magnus had to say before giving way to anger and Magnus was certain that he could make the man understand his reasons for leaving.

  She nodded again but was clearly uncertain as she nibbled her bottom lip. He hoped he’d done the right thing for her. His hand moved over her hip to rest against her belly, where their child could even now be growing. A wave of tenderness for her washed over him. No matter what happened or who he turned out to be, he’d make sure she was taken care of.

  * * *

  It took Magnus the better part of three days to find the rebel Danes.

  Any trail he had left behind as he’d run for his life those weeks ago had long since vanished. It’d come as no surprise that many of the landmarks he’d thought that he’d remember had disappeared with it. The ancient tree with gnarled roots half in the stream—a
marker he was certain he’d recognised—could have been any one of several. The sharp bend in the stream that made it nearly turn back on itself had been found, but then he’d found another just like it.

  He’d almost turned around and headed back to Aisly when the tinge of woodsmoke tickled his nose. Following the smell, he made his way through the forest, until he saw the flickering of a fire through the trees. It was well ahead of him and he probably wouldn’t have seen it if not for the gathering twilight. Now that he was closer, he smelled roasting meat and his belly grumbled. It reminded him he had only the coarse bread he’d brought with him and that his supply was dwindling. A sword and knife weren’t adequate tools for getting food, unless he planned to use them to take it from someone.

  Getting as close as he dared, he settled belly down on the ground and waited. It wasn’t long until he counted five men in the camp. It looked to be temporary with no permanent structures. They didn’t seem particularly guarded or anxious about anyone finding them. They simply sat around the fire, talking and passing around a jug of what he assumed to be ale, while watching the rabbits roast over the fire.

  These men were Danes. Arte and Cuthbert had described to him the group that plagued the village. They were big like Magnus himself and with various shades of light-coloured hair, some tinged with red. The way they wore their hair got his attention more than its colour. Three of them wore it long on top but short on the sides and back. His own hair had been like that before he’d cut it off. He’d seen none of the Saxon men grooming their hair that way.

  At first it was difficult to hear them, but as night settled in and the wind shifted, he was able to make out bits and pieces of their conversation. The first thing he noticed was that he understood them perfectly. There was no waiting for his mind to translate their words and stumble over them. They just came to him and he found himself mumbling the phrases he heard just to test them out on his tongue. He’d been too afraid of being overheard by someone back at the village that he hadn’t dared to speak the language of his thoughts.