Love's Captive Heart (Author's Cut Edition)

by Phoebe Conn

  As the ceremony began Celiese found she could understand little, for she had not been tutored in the Viking religion. She had difficulty following along, but hoped none would think her nervousness unusual, for surely no bride was calm on her wedding day. As the chanting continued, the low voices repeating ageless prayers, her fears grew, her deception gaining a horrible momentum in her mind until she was certain she would faint before the ceremony ended.

  As she glanced up, she saw Raktor leering at her, his lust no different from the ugliness twisting his sons' features. She stepped closer to Mylan, clinging to his arm. When he looked down, she offered a hesitant smile, for the stranger who would soon be her husband offered more in the way of security than did the master of the house where she had lived as a slave.

  At the conclusion of the ceremony, Erik Vandahl, Mylan's youngest brother, offered a toast to the bride and groom. He was nearly as tall as Mylan, not yet so well built, but a charming youth with a ready grin who kept those around him laughing with his easy humor. Aldred apologized for the absence of his other two sons, but there were kinsmen aplenty to join in the festivities, and the wedding feast continued for hours.

  Although the mead was plentiful, Mylan drank little of the fermented honey beverage, and Celiese dared taste no more than a sip. He watched her closely, his amusement at her discomfort undisguised as he remained by her side, accepting the teasing as well as the kind wishes for their prosperity, until a moment's lull presented him with the opportunity to draw her away from the noisy gathering. He led her quickly up the side stairs to his room, a chamber far greater in size than the one in which she had found him that afternoon.

  "You do not wish to remain longer with your relatives, Mylan?"

  "I want only to be alone with you, to continue what my father interrupted so rudely this afternoon." He pulled her through the heavy wooden door, and bolted it securely before he went to the hearth. He bent down to add wood to the coals glowing softly upon the stones and soon had a blaze burning. He turned back to face his lovely young bride.

  Apprehensive still, Celiese backed away. He moved with ease, his limp slight despite his complaints about his health. He appeared to be fit, vigorous, and strong. His ready grin had charmed many young women, but deceit rather than love carried her into his world, and he did not deserve to be treated so badly.

  "Olgrethe? Why are you trembling? You were not so terrified of me this afternoon. Are you merely cold? Come closer to the fire." He reached out to take her hand and drew her nearer to the hearth. "This house is older than time, but once the stone walls draw in the heat of the fire they will remain warm all night. You will like my room, it is one of the warmest."

  She stood in his easy embrace and held her palms out toward the flames and took several deep breaths. Mylan showed her such tender kindness because he believed her to be his equal. She dared not consider how he might treat pretty slaves. What Raktor had called her was the true lie, however, and she felt not in the least bit inferior to the handsome man who stood so near.

  "I was not all that certain how you felt about me this afternoon, Mylan. I feared I had angered you."

  His warm breath caressed her cheek softly as he replied with a low chuckle. He combed her shining curls away from her face with his fingertips, and bent down to lightly kiss the silken skin of her throat. "How could I ever be angry with you, Olgrethe? You seem to see in me the man I once was."

  She turned in his arms, captivated anew by his gentle manner, and her smile was wistful and sweet as she replied, "I do not understand your sorrow, Mylan, but I am pleased not to be the cause of your anger." She thought again how handsome he was with the charming sparkle lightning his golden eyes. Had Raktor sent Olgrethe, the lively girl would have loved him instantly, even if she had been unable to fathom his moods.

  "You are far too lovely a young woman to inspire any emotion within me save desire." He drew her curls through his fingertips to pull her close. "Your hair is so very fair, like sunlight upon the snow. May I brush it for you? I do not want to send for a maid to attend you, not tonight."

  She forced back the guilt his tender tone evoked and nodded. "Yes, would you please? Do you have a hairbrush? I do not know where my belongings were taken after I bathed."

  "They are all here." He turned away briefly, and then returned with her brush and quickly removed the gold pins from her carefully coiled tresses, spilling the luminous curls about her shoulders in a glittering cascade. "I have never done this before, forgive me if I prove clumsy."

  She stood patiently while he brushed her hair slowly with long, even strokes, but finally she had to speak. "It is not like grooming a horse, Mylan, here let me show you." She took the brush from him and pulled it through her hair from underneath. "Do you see, if you hold your hand at my scalp you may use more force."

  "Yes, I understand, but when have you ever brushed a horse?" He scoffed at the ridiculousness of such a beauty working in her father's stables.

  "From time to time I have groomed my pets. They are gentle animals who welcomed my touch." Indeed, she had answered with the truth, the mares may have belonged to Olgrethe, but they had both groomed them upon occasion.

  He took her thick curls in his hand to brush out the ends, and then let his fingertips stray along the graceful line of her shoulder. "Horses are not the only creatures who would welcome your attentions."

  His sensuous touch brought a shiver she could not suppress. She pulled away, and then crossed hurriedly to the row of narrow windows on the far side of the room. "Is the sea visible from here?"

  "What?" He turned, startled by her sudden flight. "Oh yes, at night it is difficult to distinguish the sparkle of the water from that of the stars, but it is there." He walked up behind her, but left his hands at his sides and followed her gaze as she studied the darkness with an intensity he could not understand. "Are you fond of the sea?"

  "Yes, I have lived all my life within sight of the water." Yet she found little comfort that night in the scent of the salty spray on the air. It was all she could do to stand calmly when she wanted so desperately to flee, but there was nowhere to run, and such foolishness would only make her plight all the worse. She stood trying to appear interested in the view, but she could not ignore the presence of the virile young man who stood so near. She could feel his warmth and his charm as almost a tangible force, and she wished she could return his attentions as honestly as he gave them.

  "In the morning you will be able to see the coast clearly, but tonight you must trust my word it is there."

  She smiled demurely as she turned to look up at him. "I am certain you know the view from your own room, Mylan, but I fear we will be unable to sleep here tonight with the noise our guests are making. Should we not return to the party and join them?"

  He laughed as though she had told the most amusing of jokes. "Olgrethe, surely you did not plan to waste our wedding night in sleep." He began to tug at the intricately carved gold bracelets encircling her upper arms, and she helped him to remove them. "Good, I see you do know what it is I wish to do. Now, give me your earrings as well."

  Again Celiese obediently complied with his request, but each time she tried to step clear of his embrace he moved closer, until the backs of her legs brushed the furs covering his bed. She stopped abruptly, blocked from a further retreat.

  Mylan grinned broadly at her predicament. "You may have escaped me this afternoon, but you won't elude me tonight, nor any other night I want you. There is no need for you to fear me. I will be very gentle with you until you have learned all there is to know."

  She seized upon his words in hopes of delaying his promised lessons. "I was disappointed we had so little time to talk this afternoon. I have so many questions, will you not permit me to ask them?" She sat down primly on the foot of his bed and folded her hands in her lap, her wide, rapt gaze utterly beguiling.

  He frowned impatiently, annoyed by her unexpected request. "Let us talk on the morrow."

  Celiese
reached out to take his hand and drew him down beside her. "Please, we are strangers still, neither of us prepared to begin a marriage. Will you not grant me this one small request?"

  "If it is only one, I will indulge you, but then I will insist you repay me in kind." His glance was a mischievous one, but when he realized she did not understand his teasing remark, he put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her warmly. "I am sorry, Olgrethe, ask me whatever you wish, and I will satisfy your curiosity about me as best I can."

  Now that he had agreed so readily Celiese realized she had no query in mind, then, remembering Olgrethe's complaints, she struggled to be coherent. "You are a grown man, Mylan, doubtless a veteran of many exciting voyages. Will you not tell me of some of your adventures?"

  He groaned in frustration. "Yes, I am a grown man; I am twenty-eight, and you expect me to relate so many years of my life in amusing tales on our wedding night? We will have our entire lives to discuss our pasts, but tonight I prefer to enjoy the present. I will say no more than that I will return to the sea as soon as I am able to command my own vessel with my former strength and skill."

  His expression darkened as he admitted slowly, "Although I am afraid that day may never come."

  Puzzled, she continued to probe. "Why has no one seen you these last two years? You look very strong and fit to me, and your appearance could not be more pleasing." She had observed him closely all evening, for it was a fascinating pastime, but now she hoped to keep him talking until dawn.

  He rose to his feet and pulled her up with a forceful lift. "I have no need for pity, especially not from you. Would you rather I did not disrobe fully?"

  She chewed her lower lip nervously as she considered how best to answer; she was now his wife, and he had asked for nothing that was not his right as her husband. If he had avoided his friends to escape their pity he was doubtless lonely too, and it was a feeling she could readily appreciate. She pulled her hands from his, then knelt at his feet to loosen the laces of his soft suede boots.

  "I have lived in a house filled with brothers, Mylan. The sight of an unclothed male will not shock me."

  The tall man had to bend slightly to stroke Celiese's fair curls. "Even if you are not frightened by my manhood. I am certain my scars must revolt you."

  "You did not believe me this afternoon? I will never mention your scars: the worst disfigure the soul, not the body."

  He pulled her swiftly to her feet and held her before him, his grasp upon her shoulders firm, as if he meant to shake her.

  "I am no coward, Olgrethe, is that what you mean? You think I have hidden like some quaking coward to avoid my family's anguish when they look at me?" His voice held a hoarse snarl, the bitterness of his mood shifting his even features into a cruel mask.

  Celiese's thick lashes nearly swept her brows as she wondered how he could have misunderstood her so completely. She spoke softly, "I am delighted to have a man as fine as you for my husband. I most assuredly do not believe you are a coward and did not mean for you to think I had called you one. I was referring to others' faults, not accusing you of having any."

  He sighed dejectedly and dropped his hands to his sides. "I am a great fool, but the confinement I have been forced to endure has not been an easy one. I am angry only with myself, not with you. Please forgive me."

  Amazed he would make such a shocking admission, she stood on her tiptoes to brush his cheek softly in a light kiss. "There is nothing to forgive, but please remember we do not know each other well as yet, and misunderstandings will be unavoidable. We must each be patient with the other."

  Encouraged by the sweetness of her gestures as well as her words, her drew her into his arms and held her tightly. He did no more than hold her, but she stiffened in his embrace, her anxiety increasing tenfold when he did not let go. She could not bear to be held so closely, for it reminded her far too vividly of the brute force with which she had been taken captive.

  When he at last relaxed she stepped back quickly, her smile slight, for she had no control over her emotions, and they tore away at her heart with the fury of vultures picking clean the carcass of a fallen beast.

  "I did not think you would find my embrace so distasteful." His gaze raked over her slowly, but he did not seem displeased, only amused by her reticence to accept his attentions.

  "No, it is only that I am not used to a man's affection. I know you do not mean to frighten me with your strength, but it is considerable." She looked down shyly, wishing she could fill her mind only with thoughts of him. He was kind and dear, and she wanted so badly to please him.

  His expression softened instantly, her beauty enchanting him anew. "I have let you become chilled again. The furs of my bed are thick and warm; and that is where we both belong tonight." He reached for the clasp on the gold brooch holding her gown at the shoulder, undid it deftly, then laid it aside with her other gold jewelry.

  Celiese stood quietly as he undressed her, but she jabbed her fingernails into her palms until she was certain they were bleeding to silence a hysterical scream. When he bent to her feet his soft curls brushed the inside of her thigh and she gasped sharply, shocked by the sensation that brightened her pale cheeks with a deep blush. As he looked up she could only stare into his amber eyes, too surprised to speak, for the pleasure his presence brought astonished her.

  After he had removed her suede slippers he did not rise but lifted his hand to her knee, then higher, and she had no desire to push him away. She stood trying simply to breathe calmly as the warmth of his touch flooded her cool skin with a delicious rush, leaving her whole body as flushed as her cheeks. He caressed the length of her thigh lightly, then let his fingertips trace the line of her leg to the tip of her toes before he again stood to face her, his smile a mischievous one.

  "You are supposed to enjoy my touch, and you need not be ashamed that you do," he offered sympathetically.

  She could not respond, for the beat of her heart roared like thunder in her ears, drowning any effort to compose a lucid response. She was captivated by the brightness of his ready smile, enchanted by his eyes fiery brilliance, and she made no protest as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to his comfortable bed.

  After swiftly casting off his own clothing, he joined her upon the soft furs, but when he pulled her into his arms the shyness of her hesitant kiss amused him once again. "How can any creature be so astonishingly beautiful, so sweet and bright, and yet so cold?" He brushed her flushed cheeks with light, playful kisses before he leaned back to look down at her, his golden glance caressing her delicate features softly.

  "Cold?" She could scarcely breathe with her husband so near, but his sly grin inspired trust rather than feed her fears. "Yes, the room is still a bit chilly."

  He chuckled at the innocence of her reply. "Olgrethe, when I kiss you, I expect you to kiss me, to accept my affection even if you cannot yet return it with any feeling for me. Until today I have had no desire to take a bride, but I want you most desperately now."

  He surprised her at every turn. "Although we have known each other for no more than a few hours, I do have tender feelings for you," she whispered. As he leaned down to kiss her lips lightly she lifted her hands to his shoulders, caressing his warm skin slowly before she wound her fingers in his bright curls to pull his mouth to hers. She opened her lips slightly, kissing him as he had kissed her that afternoon, her tongue teasing his playfully until at last he drew away.

  "That is much better. Forgive me for teasing you when I promised to be a patient teacher." He could not recall ever being with so shy a young woman and reminded himself to be more considerate lest he frighten her needlessly. "Now, please kiss me again." He found her mouth warm and sweet beneath his own, her lips trembling only slightly this time, and he moved closer still, lengthening his kiss until he felt her acceptance along the entire length of her youthful body, for as she relaxed, the contours of her slender figure fit perfectly against his lean physique, as if she had been born to be his wife.
The pleasure flooding his powerful body was one he had not forgotten but had despaired of ever sharing again with a woman as beautiful as the elegant creature who was now his bride.

  "You see, is this not a far better way to kiss?" But he gave her no time to reply before his lips again caressed hers softly, for he truly did want to teach her well, to create within her breast the desire that already pounded with such insistence within his own. He made his voice a reassuring whisper as he began to pay her pretty compliments, wanting her to feel the delight her loveliness gave him as he covered her delectable body with soft kisses. Her skin was smooth, creamy to the touch and as fragrant as the gardens of wildflowers surrounding his home each spring. She had the gentle perfection of a clear spring day, all its beauty and sweetness, and he was lost in his own romantic dreams as he savored the swells and curves of her splendid figure.

  Celiese smiled contentedly as Mylan trailed kisses along her throat. She traced the ripple of muscles across his broad shoulders with a slow, sensuous touch, for the skin of his back had been unmarked by the bear's claws and it felt smooth and alive beneath her fingertips. She held him in a tender embrace as he slid kisses across her breast, lost in his tender affection. She had never dreamed a man could be so gentle. The longings he aroused within her were exquisite, and as unexpected as his handsomeness had been, a surprise too marvelous to contain. With his slow caresses, her feelings continued to grow and her desire to deepened.

  His knowing touch grew more intimate, and his bed had the softness of a cloud at her back. She floated in his embrace, adrift on the tide of his passion, and she drew him close to her heart, hoping to return the pleasure his warm, sleek body gave to hers. His honey-flavored kiss led her further into the madness, teasing her senses as deftly as his slow, sensuous touch drew forth the deepest of pleasures until she shuddered with joy, her surrender to him now complete.