And she wanted none. Boldly, she reached for his trousers and began unbuttoning them, helping to rid him of his own clothing. When she finally saw his naked body, a flush came over her.
This man was not a duke’s son. There was no trace of softness upon him—only ridged muscles that outlined his form. Numerous scars lined his ribs and she saw another that cut across his shoulder. Men in her time did not fight like this. They rode horses, gambled at White’s, and sat in Parliament. They did not bear the scars of a man who had fought for his life.
She lowered her mouth to his chest, kissing a path over his hardened stomach. He was so different from William that merely touching him brought her a sense of wonder. It made her feel good to run her hands over him and watch his expression transform.
Arik lifted her into his arms, carrying her toward his bed. When he lay her down upon it, he covered her body with his own. Skin to skin, he kissed her, and she parted her legs so that he could move even closer.
The hard length of his erection rubbed against her, and she guided him inside her, needing to be filled by him. The moment he thrust deeply inside, he groaned, balancing his weight on his arms.
“By the gods, Juliana.” He couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought as she wrapped her legs around him, urging him deeper.
Slowly, he found a rhythm, sinking and withdrawing while she watched his dark eyes. “You are a Viking,” she murmured. “And you are mine.”
He took her nipple in his mouth, suckling her as he continued to thrust against her. In answer to his delicious torment, she squeezed him within her depths. It only deepened her own pleasure as he penetrated over and over.
“No man will ever make you feel this way,” he said, holding her hips as he continued the swift rhythm. It made her imagine what it would be like if she were a Viking maiden and Arik had come for her.
God above, he knew how to seduce her. She indulged in a forbidden fantasy, letting her imagination tempt her with visions of this man. If he returned from a raid and if she was at home waiting for him, what would it be like? Would he tear her gown the way he’d torn her chemise? Would he kiss her senseless, touching her bare skin until she was desperate to have him inside her?
She clenched his length as he slid in and out, and her nipples tightened as she let the vision spin off wildly. He was lifting her hips now, and the new angle brought a new pressure within her, making it difficult to catch her breath.
“Take me,” she commanded, “the way you would have, if you had found me on one of your raids.” She didn’t want tenderness now—this was about forgetting the world and everything in it. She wanted raw, physical lovemaking that would drive out the pain and uncertainty of her future.
“I don’t rape women, kjære.” He withdrew from her body, and she suddenly wished she hadn’t spoken. That wasn’t what she had meant at all.
“Forget what I said. I was just... imagining what it would be to surrender to you.”
His expression turned curious, and he asked, “You want me to claim you, then.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
His warm hands turned her over on the bed, her backside facing him. He guided her to spread her legs apart, but he didn’t take her right away. Instead, he massaged her bottom, parting her intimately so that she was breathless with anticipation. With his fingers, he grazed her wet entrance, opening her and sliding the tip of his erection inside.
Without warning, he slammed inside her core, and she muffled her scream of pleasure against the coverlet. It sent her spiraling over the edge as he drove himself against her. The sensation of being made love to like this was savage, breaking apart her inhibitions. She lost sight of who she was, becoming a woman who backed against him, nearly sobbing as he thrust again and again. With both hands, he palmed her breasts, teasing the nipples.
She was broken apart, a mindless abyss of lust and frantic need. God help her, this was what she’d wanted when she’d asked him not to leave her. Arik continued his ruthless penetrations, forcing her to come apart again.
But there was no sense of violence in his lovemaking. Instead, it was a desperation, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. She trembled against him, her fists seizing the coverlet while he claimed her.
And at last, he buried himself deep inside, his rough breathing revealing that he’d found his own release. He shuddered, turning her to her side so that he had her body cradled against him. An aftershock claimed her, and she bucked against him, keeping his hands upon her breasts.
His warm body was against hers, their skin slick with sweat. She said nothing, but the shutters at the window were open, revealing the bright moon. There was only the faintest shadow upon it, and she realized that the full moon would come in another day or so.
She closed her eyes, praying that time would not separate them now.
Arik had barely slept at all last night. Having Juliana beside him had given him comfort in a way he’d never expected it to. It had felt right holding her near.
After the night they’d spent together, Juliana had asked him to escort her home. He had joined her in the carriage, and they’d spent a moment alone, driving through the London streets. His mind envisioned all the ways he wanted to touch her again, to drive her wild with abandon.
But today, he had lost sensation in his hands and fingers. There was no feeling in his legs anymore, and when he glanced at the morning sky, the moon was nearly full. He sensed that his last moments were slipping away.
Juliana was wearing the gown she’d had on the night before, and her hair was pinned up. Although outwardly she appeared composed, he could see the churn of emotions in her eyes.
“I don’t regret the choices I made last night,” she admitted, when they drew near to her grandmother’s house, “but I worry about the consequences.” Her hands rested upon her middle, and the sudden look in her eyes made him guess the reason.
“Are you with child?” he guessed. The thought warmed him with the promise of new life. A part of him would live on, and Juliana would not forget him.
She shook her head and shrugged. “It’s too soon to know. But... yes, it is possible, since we spent that first night together.” Her face flushed, and she asked, “Can you not stay with me?”
Though a child might indeed bind him to her, the loss of feeling in his body suggested that he could not. “I do not know,” was all he could answer.
“Grandmama has spoken of me marrying again, perhaps a foreign nobleman,” she confessed. “If there is a child, then I will have no choice.”
A fierce jealousy caught him in the gut at the thought of another man claiming her. Juliana had given herself to him. He wanted no other man to have her. At least, not while I am still breathing, he thought.
“You need not marry again,” he told her. “I will find a way to provide for you. You deserve compensation, and that you will have.”
“Or Harry and I could return to my father’s house,” she said. “It might be cold in the winter, but at least we have a home there. And no one will talk about the scandals I always seem to be entangled within.” Her cheeks were red, as if she was embarrassed about all that had happened.
He reached out to take her hand. “Do not fear what others might say. Their words mean nothing.”
That made her smile, though he suspected she believed he was teasing. The truth was, he would gladly cut down any man or woman who dared to insult her.
“I am glad you are here, Arik Thorgrim,” she told him, reaching for his hand. “And if there is a child, I will take care of it. You needn’t worry.”
He closed his fingers around hers, but it bothered him that he could no longer feel the heat of her palm. He thought of telling her about it, but it would only cause her greater worry. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her hard. At least he could feel the softness of her lips, drinking in the taste of her. And it was enough for now.
“I have to go back inside and face my grandmother,” she said. “Lady Traveston will not like what
I’ve done.”
“You will not face her alone.” Though he suspected the older woman would disapprove, perhaps he could find a means of appeasing her. Particularly if she believed he was the duke’s son.
The footman opened their carriage door, and Arik stepped out first, reaching up to help her down. He took a moment to memorize her features, suspecting that this was the last day he would ever see her.
“Miss Nelson,” the footman interrupted, “I am glad that you’ve arrived. Lord Hawthorne is here.”
“For what reason?” Juliana wondered aloud.
Arik didn’t mind at all. He wanted to confront William of Arthur again, especially now. He touched her spine, guiding her inside. But she stopped at the steps. “Do not go with me. No good can come of this.”
“You are wrong. It was for this reason that I was sent here. He must make amends for the way he wronged you.”
“And he will,” she said. “But I will not bring violence around my grandmother and my son. Harry adores you. What will he think if he sees you attack his father?”
Arik ignored her words. “How do you know William is not here to claim his son and take him away?”
She went utterly pale. “H-he wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t even know the boy. And he said last night that he doesn’t care about him.”
“Then why is he here this early in the morning?” Arik was uncertain of the man’s purpose, but he was not about to leave them undefended.
“I don’t know. But I do know that I want him nowhere near Harry.” She was already hurrying forward, no longer seeming to care if he accompanied her or not. Arik kept a short distance behind her, allowing Juliana to take the lead. She paid no heed to the butler, who was trying to speak to her, but instead took the steps two at a time. It was clear that she was trying to ensure her son’s safety, above all else.
He didn’t follow her. Instead, he held back, waiting to catch a glimpse of William of Arthur. Something had caused the man to return here. And whether it was for Juliana or for her son, Arik intended to guard them both.
No matter what the cost.
Harry was still in his room, while the dog was asleep by the hearth.
Juliana breathed a sigh of relief, resisting the urge to snatch her son into her arms. “Good morning,” she said, kissing his tousled blond hair. He hugged her and then said, “Mrs. Haverford said that my papa is here, but he doesn’t want to see me. Why not?”
She took her son’s hand, wishing the housekeeper had said nothing to Harry. “I don’t know why, Harry. But you are a good boy, and you mustn’t worry about him. Tomorrow we will leave London and go home.”
He shrugged. “Will Mr. Thorgrim be there? I want him to teach me how to use my knife.” It was then that Juliana realized that he’d put a sock around the blade like a sheath, and he’d tied it to his waist with a bit of string.
Her heart bled to think that his own father was downstairs, pretending as if the boy didn’t exist... and Harry didn’t seem to mind at all. He was more interested in Arik Thorgrim, a man he’d known hardly a fortnight.
“I don’t know,” she hedged. “He might come with us. He’s downstairs right now.” Arik had said that he would be gone when the moon was full again. She refused to let herself believe that he would go, though he’d said it. After a night in his arms, she wanted to start her life over again, spending time with a man who cared for her. He was strong and bold, a man who would stand up to anyone and damn the consequences.
“I want to see Mr. Thorgrim.” Harry brightened and gripped the hilt of his dagger. “I have to show him my knife.”
Juliana cursed herself for telling her son that he was downstairs. She shouldn’t have told him that. “Not yet. I must speak with your father first.”
“But why?” He started toward the door, but she blocked his path.
“Wait here, and perhaps I’ll send Mr. Thorgrim upstairs. You can show him your knife then.” She didn’t want Harry anywhere near William. Though she didn’t know why her former husband was here, she wouldn’t put it past him to use Harry to his own advantage.
“Do you promise?” Harry took a step back, and she nodded.
“I promise, when I have finished speaking with Lord Hawthorne, I will bring Mr. Thorgrim upstairs. Just stay here and wait for him.”
Her son sighed and returned to playing with his tin soldiers. Thank goodness.
Juliana bid him farewell and closed the door to the nursery. She walked down the hall and spied one of Lady Traveston’s maids. “Is my grandmother abed?” she asked the young woman in a low whisper.
“Yes, miss. She is suffering from one of her headaches and has asked not to be disturbed until the afternoon.”
That was good. At least Juliana wouldn’t have to face further questioning from her grandmother. She thanked the maid and continued down the stairs, only to find William waiting for her outside the parlor. The butler sent her a questioning look, but she dismissed him with a hand. Undoubtedly Lord Hawthorne was here to stir up trouble, and she preferred that the servants should not overhear their conversation.
There was no sign of Arik, which made her wonder if he’d left. It wasn’t like him at all. But then she spied him at the far end of the hall, watching over her. Her shoulders lowered with relief, knowing that he was here to ensure that nothing happened to them.
It didn’t seem that William was aware of the Viking’s presence, and she approached the parlor, feeling relieved by it.
“William.” She greeted him as if he were an acquaintance instead of her lost husband. “I am surprised to see you.”
“I spoke with my brother last night,” he said, walking toward the stairs. “And I learned that you spent several years at Hawthorne House.”
“I did, yes.” Because I believed we were married and that I was your viscountess, she thought. “Marcus allowed us to stay when we didn’t know where you were.”
He eyed her, his gaze narrowed. “I also heard that Lord Thorgraham gave his father half a treasure in gold and silver. Gold that was buried upon my land.”
Though he spoke in a calm voice, she didn’t miss the note of greed in his tone. She didn’t know whether to be upset or relieved. He wasn’t here about Harry—he was here about money.
She should have expected that they were worth nothing at all to him.
“It was a Viking hoard that we found on the Duke of Somerford’s land, not yours,” she corrected. “Thorgrim—that is, Lord Thorgraham—found it and gave it over to his... father.” It was somewhat a lie, but she didn’t know what else to say.
“I don’t believe you.” His expression hardened and he added, “And you were trespassing on my estate, long after you should have left.” His tone grew silken. “Perhaps you stole other things that belonged to me.”
Anger flared up inside her at his insinuation. How did he dare accuse her of theft? “You were the one who stole from me,” she countered. “You stole my dignity, and you stole my innocence.”
“Oh come now, Juliana. What other titled gentleman would have had you? You should count yourself fortunate that I gave you my attentions for a time. I certainly gave you a better life than you would have had as a fisherman’s daughter.” He looked down at her with disdain. It was clear that he believed himself better than her.
He crossed his arms and said, “I know you kept back some of the gold for yourself. And I want my portion.”
Of course he did. Because men like William believed that they deserved more than they had. “First of all, you are mistaken. I have no gold. And even if I did, the last person I would give it to is you.” No longer would she obey him meekly, like a frightened eighteen-year-old girl. She had a son to protect and a life of her own—one that was better without him.
A thin smile spread over his face, and he lowered his voice. “And what if I decided to claim your boy as my bastard? I could easily arrange it so you’d never see him again.”
Fury ripped through her at his threat. If he dared to
threaten Harry, she would eviscerate him. “You will never threaten my son,” she said. “Leave my grandmother’s house this instant.”
He reached out to seize her arm. “I don’t take orders from a woman, Juliana. Especially you.”
Juliana tried to wrench herself free of the man’s grasp. “I asked you to leave.”
At that, Arik strode closer. His arms were crossed and his mouth was tight with anger. Though he was still wearing a nobleman’s clothes, she saw him reaching for a hidden weapon. The look in his eyes held violence, as if he intended to kill William for touching her.
But before he reached him, she saw Harry hurrying down the stairs. “Let go of my mother.” He glared at William and rested his hand upon the blade Arik had given him, still sheathed in the sock.
She sent a pleading look toward Arik, who closed the distance and used his height to intimidate Lord Hawthorne. “The boy is right. Let go of her, before I break your arms.” His voice was quiet but held the confident air of a man who kept his promises.
“Lord Thorgraham,” William greeted him. “I see that you’ve been enjoying Juliana’s charms while I was away. Like many gentlemen, I’d wager.”
He made it sound as if she’d sold herself on the streets. How could she have ever been charmed by this man? It made her physically ill to think of the nights he’d shared her bed. He had reveled in dominating her, believing that he was a lover of great skill. The truth was, he’d only used and discarded her.
Hatred slid over Juliana, and she finally wrenched herself free of his grasp. William barely spared her any notice at all. The smug expression on his face made her long to strike him down. All the years of frustration and helplessness flooded through her. He’d always looked down on her, never believing that she was worth anything at all.
“And I presume this is your bastard?” Her former husband nodded toward Harry, as he released her arm. “The one you claim is mine.”
A Most Peculiar Season Series Boxed Set: Five Full-length Connected Novels by Award-winning and Bestselling Authors Page 17