With hearing only every third or fourth word, it was difficult to follow their conversation, so he strained forward. When two of them rose to take a spit off the fire and argue over who got to eat first, he took the opportunity to crawl forward, certain that any noise he made would go unheard. Once they’d divided up their meat and settled down to eat, they resumed their conversation. They spoke of women and battle, sights and travels. He heard one of them called Henrik. He was clearly their leader, because they all went silent when he spoke. It didn’t sound familiar, though, which relieved him a bit because he didn’t want to be one of them.
He wanted Aisly.
But the next name he heard chilled him to the bone. Magnus. Whether they were referring to him or not, he couldn’t tell and listened closer.
‘Magnus hasn’t returned home yet,’ Henrik stated.
‘Neither has Gautr,’ another one remarked.
‘Perhaps they’ve killed each other.’ A third one said this, eliciting a round of laughter from the group.
Then Henrik shook his head. ‘Nay, he killed Gautr. Gautr never was much of a swordsman, despite being quick on his feet. Magnus killed him and is hiding. He wants us to think he’s dead.’
The third one disagreed. ‘His skull was split with your sword. He’s dead. The animals have long since torn the flesh from his body.’
Henrik nodded, but he didn’t appear convinced. ‘If he’s not, he will be soon.’ He glanced up to the black sky—not a star could be seen and even the moon was covered. The clouds had been dark and flat all day, making Magnus fear rain or snow with how cold it was becoming. ‘After we get back from the north, we’ll root him out. Heir will send word if he returns to Thornby. I won’t rest this winter until I know he’s dead.’
One of the men who’d been silent finally spoke up. ‘Jarl Eirik will have received notice that Magnus is missing. If we come back south before winter is over, the Jarl could be looking for us.’
‘Let him look. He hasn’t found us yet.’ Henrik smirked. This prompted a bit of nervous laughter from the group. Throwing the bones of his meal on to the fire, Henrik grabbed his fur and pulled it around his shoulders. ‘Rest well tonight. We have long days ahead of us, but when we come back, we’ll find him.’
Magnus waited until they all slept before daring to creep backwards. He half-considered approaching them quietly and attempting to kill them all. But there were five of them and he wasn’t completely recovered. Aside from that, he still didn’t know who they were or why they were a threat to him. The name Jarl Eirik had pulled loose one memory from the tangle in his mind. A fair-haired man wearing a cape affixed with golden filigree broaches. He was clearly wealthy and important. It must be the Jarl. There were no other memories, though. Nothing that gave Magnus any idea of who he was to the Jarl or why he’d be missed.
Once he’d moved far enough away to keep watch without being seen, he settled down to rest. It was cold and the fur cape that had belonged to Aisly’s husband was all he had to keep warm. It wasn’t enough, but it kept the worst of the chill away. He didn’t sleep much, because he couldn’t stop his mind from churning through the tangled mess of his memories trying to figure them out.
* * *
By morning his head was pounding, but he followed the rebels long enough to determine they were moving further north away from the village. Once he made certain they were no immediate danger to the villagers, he turned and made his way back to Aisly.
Chapter Fourteen
When a few days turned into the better part of a sennight, Aisly became so worried she couldn’t sit still. Then the snow started falling and her concern became almost unbearable. She hadn’t realised how much the foreigner had come to mean to her until he wasn’t there any more. Their arrangement had become so much more than she’d dared to even think it could be. She missed everything about him. His teasing smiles, his deep voice, the way he’d look at her as if he was the only one who could truly see her. The way he’d hold her in the night.
It felt as if he was hers and she liked that. Even more, she liked feeling as if she was his. But those feelings frightened her as much as they comforted her. He didn’t belong here. No matter how often she’d lain awake imagining a future with him right here in this house, it could never come true. Being a warrior was in his blood. Godric had been a warrior, but also a farmer, and a husband, albeit a bad one. The foreigner was different. Instead of acting as village defender, he pursued the fight. Wherever his homeland was, he’d left it to be a warrior. He wouldn’t be content living here in her small village tending crops.
She repeated that to herself so often it should’ve been ingrained in her being. Perhaps partially it was. She hadn’t any trouble imagining him in his prior life leading a faction of warriors and she admired that about him. His ability to take control, to command respect. Though her admiration was foolhardy, because those were the exact reasons she needed to keep him at arm’s length. He wouldn’t ever be able to give her that family life she craved in her heart.
Regardless of what she suspected to be true, the more nights passed, the less she was able to sleep for thinking of him. So she was awake when the harsh knock sounded on her door in the middle of the night. Jumping in surprise, she rose from her bed and walked on silent feet to the door. The knock came again, only this time she heard his voice calling her name. She ran the rest of the way and threw open the latch to see him there. Snow clung to the fur of his cloak and stuck to his beard and lashes.
She was so happy to see him, she didn’t care about the cold or the possibility of someone seeing them as she flung herself into his arms. He opened the fur to wrap it around her and pull her tight against him, all the while pushing her back inside the house and closing the door behind them.
‘You said a few days and I was so worried because I thought something had happened.’ She didn’t let him go to look up at him. Instead, she nuzzled her face against his chest and listened to the soothing beat of his heart, relief making her legs weak. He was home.
‘I know, fair one. I’m here.’ His voice rumbled through her chest, filling in the hollows he’d left with his absence.
Only once her own heartbeat had begun to slow could she pull back. Even then her hands went to his face, his shoulders, his hands to unwrap the cloth that had kept them warm as she checked him for signs of injury.
He grinned. ‘I’m unharmed.’
Fingers clenched in his short hair, she pulled him down to her, her mouth seeking the reassurance of his. He answered her immediately. His lips were cold at first contact, but they warmed quickly as the kiss deepened and her tongue brushed his. One touch and she was lost. The anxiety of his absence turned to a gripping need in her that she couldn’t control, much less deny. Her hands shoved at the fur, pushing it back from his face and off his shoulders. He helped her by shrugging out of it, but his hands came up to cup her cheeks as he broke the kiss.
‘I missed you.’ A smile gently turned his lips, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes.
She had the awful suspicion that something was terribly wrong. Before he’d left, he’d met her gaze with nothing but tenderness. And now, though the tenderness was still there, it had been joined with apprehension. She didn’t like that he’d be worried with her. She didn’t like the fact that their relationship was so tenuous, but now something must have caused it to be even more so. She was a fool. Of course it was tenuous. It would be ending soon.
‘Are you all right? Did you fight someone?’ He’d said he was unharmed and he looked good. There were no new bruises on his face and the ones he had were faded. He’d lost his bandage, though he didn’t really need it any more as the wound had closed. He was so striking that her heart fluttered to look upon him, but it was the depth of his eyes that held her attention.
He shook his head without breaking eye contact. ‘Nay, I found a small grou
p of Danes. I believe they were the rebels plaguing your village and they knew me.’
‘Did you...?’ Suddenly she didn’t want to know what he’d found out. She didn’t want anything to intrude upon the tiny bit of happiness they’d found together, but she had to ask because the threat of the unknown was always lurking over them. ‘Did you know them?’
‘Nay.’
He took in a hesitant breath, as if he wanted to say more and was trying to figure out how to say it. She couldn’t hear it, though. Not now. Not when she was just so happy to have him back. Before he could ruin that with anything that might have happened, she brought his mouth back to hers and redoubled her efforts to get him undressed, starting with his tunic. Her fingers went to the hem.
‘Aisly,’ he groaned against her lips.
‘Please...I’ve missed you so much.’ She brought his hands to her waist, craving his touch.
That seemed to break down his hesitance. He gripped her gown, fisting it in his hands and bringing her fully against his front. ‘I’ve thought of nothing but getting back to you.’ He pulled back just enough to say the words in a hoarse whisper against her lips before crushing her mouth with his again.
As she responded to his urgency, heat flooded her middle, settling to an insistent ache between her thighs. She’d missed him so much, she wanted him there again. She wanted to be as close to him as it was possible to get. Tugging at his tunic, she brought it up between them until he pulled it off over his head. He didn’t hesitate to grip her gown and pull it up and over her head in one move. Her body tightened from the cold and the way his gaze heated her skin as he looked her over.
But he was just as hungry as she was by now and he tugged his shirt off before picking her up and walking towards the bed. Her legs found their way around his hips. He was so large it felt a bit awkward, but it didn’t matter if it got her closer to him. She loved the scrape of his light furring of chest hair against her nipples, so she found herself rubbing against him. His hands moved down from her waist to her bottom and squeezed her against him, bringing the full swell of his erection to rub against her centre through the fabric of his trousers. She cried out at the familiar sensation as her body clenched, aching for him to fill her.
He laid her on the bed, coming down with her. ‘I need you now.’
She murmured her agreement against his mouth, but it came out as incoherent babble. He seemed to know she felt the same, as his hand moved to touch her between her legs. She was so ready he was able to easily push a finger inside her. She gasped at the sensation, breaking their kiss.
He buried his face against her neck, biting and teasing the tender skin he found there. His hands fumbled with his fastenings, making her start with excitement every time his knuckles brushed against her smooth inner thigh. She needed him so badly, her entire body ached with it. Then he was there. The hard flesh of his manhood nudging against her sensitive flesh, finding her opening and notching there. Crying out at the exquisite torture, she reached down and met his fingers as he took himself in hand to guide his shaft into her. Their eyes met as their fingers lined him up.
When he flexed his hips and pushed the head inside, he took her hand in his and brought her fingers to his lips. Placing a gentle kiss to them, he placed her hand on the mattress above her head and laced his fingers with hers. Then he pushed forward a bit more, before pulling back and repeating the motion, slowly making a way for himself. Finally he sank as deep as he could go, pulling a groan from each of them, before he paused, resting on top of her.
Her entire body throbbed and her channel clenched around him, begging for more, but she closed her eyes and savoured the consolation of having his weight above her and inside her at the same time. He felt so right. This felt so right. He exhaled sharply as he pressed his forehead to hers and thrust once, hard. Darts of pleasure wove through her body from where they were joined. But it was more than physical pleasure. It was solace and passion all rolled into one. She’d never known such a feeling of well-being. Her entire body glowed with the warmth.
‘Tell me you’re ready, fair one.’ His ragged voice made her tremble.
‘Aye,’ she reassured him and arched beneath him, trying to get closer. It was all the encouragement he needed, because he thrust again, setting a rhythm that quickly turned frantic, which she had no trouble keeping up with.
Very soon her body clenched and contracted around his length. His grunts of pleasure against her neck coupled with the uncoordinated jerks of his hips told her he’d found his release within her.
Afterwards she held him against her, unwilling to let go. Kissing her brow, he pulled away just enough to work off his boots and push his trousers down. She wrapped an arm around his waist from behind, placing kisses along his shoulder, because she couldn’t seem to stop touching him. He only smiled and managed to not stand up before ridding himself of the clothes and lying down with her. She curled against his chest, her legs tangled with his, and his arms went around her. She wanted to stay that way for ever, with his heart beating beneath her ear.
* * *
Magnus pulled the blanket up over them and held her tucked beneath his chin, wondering how he’d managed to feel this way about a stranger in such a short amount of time. The more he thought of a life without her, the more he wanted to fight against that sort of life. He wanted her. Even the idea of returning to his own hut before morning was distasteful. She belonged with him. The idea had taken root in his bones and he couldn’t dislodge it no matter how often he reminded himself that he didn’t belong with her. He wasn’t one of them.
‘Didn’t Cuthbert want to see you?’ she asked after both their heartbeats had slowed to normal.
‘He doesn’t know I’m here.’ He ran his palms over the silken skin of her back, savouring her softness. She fit against him as if she’d been made for him.
‘But the men at the gate must have told him.’ She pushed up a little, her eyes wide in surprise.
He couldn’t help but smile as he pushed her dark hair back from her face. It seemed to reflect the firelight with pieces of it shimmering red. ‘Don’t worry. No one knows I’m back. They won’t come looking for me here.’
‘How did you get in if not through the gate?’ Some of her alarm had faded, so the tension went out of her arms, leaving her resting on his chest as she looked at him.
‘I told you the walls here are not good. They’re too rough and short. It wasn’t difficult to find notches to climb it. I needed to see you first, so I waited until the village was quiet before coming in.’
‘Oh, I suppose I didn’t believe you when you said the gate wouldn’t stop you.’ She frowned and a crease appeared between her brows. ‘Perhaps we need you here.’
His smile faded. There was no question that he could be useful here. The only question was: where did he belong? He wanted a life with her, but no matter how right she felt, it didn’t feel right to turn his back on who he really was. It didn’t feel right to turn his back on her, either. It just seemed that having her and having himself were mutually exclusive.
‘I want to tell you my name.’ He hadn’t planned to tell her, but he couldn’t hold back any more. Though it was unlikely she’d recognise it, since no one in her village had known him, but it was possible.
She tried to stifle it, but a smile teased the corners of her mouth. She drew in her plump bottom lip and held it between her teeth. ‘I want to know your name,’ she finally said, her words a little breathless.
He pushed back her hair and allowed the pad of his thumb to trace over her cheekbone.
‘Did the rebels say your name? Do you know it?’
Why had he said anything? He couldn’t tell her, not when he wasn’t sure what his name meant. Now he had to lie to her and he despised that. ‘They said a name. I’m uncertain if it’s mine.’ He dipped his head down and closed his eyes, hating that he c
ouldn’t tell her.
‘Will you tell Cuthbert?’
He shook his head.
‘Why?’
‘Because I still don’t know who I am... What if I’m an enemy?’
‘That’s not true.’ She gave an emphatic shake of her head. ‘You’re not our enemy. I won’t believe that’s possible.’
‘I might be, Aisly. We have to acknowledge that.’
‘It’s impossible. You’re too kind, too good.’ Pulling out of his arms, she rolled on to her side away from him.
For one very brief moment, he considered that it might be kinder to leave her now and pretend that it wouldn’t break him. Just as quickly, he pushed that aside and pulled her back into his arms, fitting her back along his front. As his hand ran over her belly, he remembered how this had all started. They were supposed to be creating a child, not simply indulging themselves in pleasure. But not once tonight had he even considered that he was touching her for that reason. It had all been about her and their need for each other.
He wondered if that was why she was so sensitive to the issue of him being an enemy. Would she regret allowing him to father her baby? ‘Are you with child?’
She hesitated only a moment before shaking her head. ‘I’m not sure. I bled while you were away, so perhaps not.’
Relief and disappointment warred for dominance. In the end, disappointment won out, because he was selfish and wanted to bind her to him in any way he could. He moved his hand up to cup her breast and her nipple beaded in response beneath his palm. She didn’t stiffen or pull away and he couldn’t convince himself to not touch her.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered against her ear.
Slowly her hand came up to cover his on her breast. ‘We can keep trying.’
‘Are you certain that’s what you want? We have to consider the fact that I could be—’
‘Aye, you’re right. I know.’ She turned in his arms to look at him. ‘But it’s unlikely. Besides...’ Her bottom lip trembled as she took in a shaky breath, but her gaze held his. ‘I tell myself that I should keep you at a distance because I know that you’ll leave. I know that you have a life somewhere and there’s no room for me in it. I understand that. But I just want to hold on to what we have right now...even knowing how it’ll end.’
In Bed with the Viking Warrior Page 16