by Tami Dee
They waded to the middle of the pool. Kat was unafraid with Leif by her side, and allowed herself to bask in the warm water that reached to her neck.
"Wet you hair," he told her in a low voice.
Obediently, Kat tilted her head back, relishing the feel of the hot water as it saturated her scalp. Reluctantly she lifted her water-heavy head up and met Leif's intense gaze.
"Allow me, elskaminn." Leif had brought an odd looking container from the bag he'd carried into the water with him, now he dipped his fingers into the sweet smelling substance and massaged it into her hair. Kat sighed in sheer bliss.
His large hands slipped from her hair to the nape of her neck, caressing her. Katla couldn't control the shudder of pleasure that rippled through her body as, pressing his cheek to her head he told her to hold out her arms.
Her arms were heavy, it was an effort to comply. A faintness come over her as his callused, soapy hands explored the soft lines of her waist and her hips. She sucked in a breath as his hands slipped up to caress the curve of her breasts, all the while his lips traced a sensuous path of ecstasy from the sensitive shell of her ear, nudging up the hated collar, to the wildly beating pulse in her throat.
Kat moaned as currents of desire raced through her, leaving her breathless as he turned her toward him. When she arched her back to press against him, he kissed her shoulders, his lips trailing a fiery path along her back.
Her heart in her eyes she turned into his embrace.
"Are you cold?" he asked.
Finding it difficult to speak she cleared her throat. "No, not at all."
She wrapped her arms around his neck and stretched against him, her skin tingled against the light layer of springy hair on his chest. She raised her lips and he did not hesitate before his crushed down upon hers.
Kat felt weightless as he scooped her willing body into the cradle of his arms and carried her to the mouth of the small cave where he lowered her onto a pile of fur. Where layers of fur had came from she didn't know, or care.
Kat's heart ached with love and happiness as she brushed her fingertips across the light sprinkling of hair that matted his chest. The flat disks of his nipples tightened under her touch and his chest muscles jumped in response. She felt empowered, amazed that her unskilled touch had the ability to make this giant warrior shudder with need. Need for her.
She was fully aware of the hardness of his thighs brushing against hers. A spurt of hungry desire spiraled through her. He moved to possess her and the heat of his body coursed down the entire length of hers, searing her. A sharp gasp escaped her as a stab of pain accompanied the loss of her innocence. Leif stilled instantly, his eye meeting hers for what seemed an eternity.
"You've never been with a man."
It wasn't a question, but rather a stunned statement
"What, did you think," she teased. "That I was easy?"
He blew out a surprised laugh. "Nay lady, never easy."
Later, much later, they lay together, limbs entangled, their skin glistening in the moonlight, a deep peace cloaked her as she smiled into Leif's adoring eyes.
Thank you Amma, for sending me here, to him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Leif awoke to the feel of Kat's lips upon his. He scooped her to him and caged her in the circle of his arms. Languidly she wound her arms about his neck, weaving her fingers through his damp hair. The action caused pinpricks of pleasure to skirt across the skin of his scalp.
"We must return home," Leif muttered as he kissed her, regret thickening his voice.
But he knew it was time to leave this haven of peace and passion behind and go back to their 'real' world.
"I don't want to go back," she said on a sleepy yawn. "I want to stay here, with you, forever." She gasped and bit her lip.
Leif pinned her with his gaze, weighing her words. Words he suspected she had not wished to utter out loud. What she had said, days before, on the deck of his brother's ship, rang in his ears. She would not have a child with any man she did not love. And now she was telling him, perhaps unintentionally, that she wanted to stay here, with him, forever.
Forever.
Could it be she loved him? Was it possible that, despite everything, she loved him as much as he loved her?
"Kat," he said, cupping her face in one hand, "Do not fear speaking your heart, for in truth, I have given you my heart, my body and my soul. I've loved you from the moment you held my knife to my throat. My feelings for you have grown each minute of each day we have been together."
Leif watched her intently as she sat up and pushed her hair back over her shoulder. The full moon's silver rays made her sea-blue eyes glow, shadowed the elegant curve of her neck, concealed the hated collar, blanketed her small breasts and emphasized her tiny waist. The expression on her face was one of amazement and wonder, as if she could not believe what she had just heard.
He refused to think of the unpleasant task ahead of him, only hours away in truth. He could not bear to think of its possible ramifications to Kat and her ancestors, men and women yet to be born.
Suddenly frightened and overwhelmed by what he knew he must do, he gathered her to him, stroking her silken hair and murmuring words of devotion.
He loved her more than life itself, and duty demanded that he slay her only living ancestor, an infant of only three full moons old, the child named Arild.
And, when he completed the unthinkable task, would the woman he now held cocooned in his arms cease to exist?
Leif held her so tightly that she gasped.
"I can't breathe."
Embarrassed, he loosened his hold and looked into her upturned face. He took a finger and brushed a tear from her cheek.
"You really love me." It was not really a question but rather a realization.
Why she would be so stunned was beyond him. What was there not to love about her? Did she not know her value?
And she had given him the gift of her virginity. She had lain with him as she had no other man. Oh yes, he loved her. He loved her to the point that from this night on, life as they were living it now would be pure torture. How could he continue to allow her to be used as a slave?
His family feared her. The other slaves hated her. His own slave master gave her the worst duties to perform. Yet she performed them. And she did so with a resilient spirit that made him proud.
Humming her future songs, she comforted herself with memories of her past life and friends. He had no doubt that those were the thoughts that keep her going, for she confided as much each night as he held her close. They were both trapped, both helpless to change the decree that he himself set upon her.
What was he going to do?
"Aye, elskaminn, you are my sole mate," he told her now. "I believe that you have always been. And Kat, regardless of what happens in the future, there will be no other woman in my heart. Ever."
Her eyes were bottomless pools of uncertainty. "You say that like you expect things to go wrong somewhere down the line, Leif. What is it you fear? What do you anticipate might separate us?"
How could he tell her of his mission, especially knowing as he did, that her own purpose for being in his time was in direct opposition to his? She was to save the very infant he had no choice but to kill.
Not that Leif was under any illusion that she would ever be able to accomplish her goal. For she was a slave, in an unfamiliar land and Leif was certain that the infant was still in Iceland, likely in the care of the midwife to whom Katla must have entrusted him to before she took her own life.
It was just a matter of going to Iceland, conquering Scipio, and finding the infant.
For the hundredth time Leif wondered if Scipio knew of the child he had fathered. Did he have him and the midwife hidden within his fortress? How many warriors would he have guarding the boy?
Leif heaved an inner sigh and rolled his shoulders in a vain attempt to relieve the tension building within him.
Nay, it would not be easy for Leif to acc
omplish his mission, but it would be all but impossible for Kat to accomplish hers.
The knowledge of his sure success gave him no comfort.
He found it hard to meet her eyes, his betrayal of her trust weighing so heavily upon his conscience. But he did.
"Kat," he said with a calmness he was far from feeling, "Our feelings for one another are not something we can display at this time. I don't know what the immediate future holds, but it is imperative that my people believe that the only reason I hold you is to secure an heir. If any suspect our true feelings for one another--" his voice dropped to an anguished whisper. "--you would be in grave danger and there could be a revolt against my family and my right to rule."
He placed a quieting finger to her lips as she began to speak.
"Katla was responsible for many deaths the morning of our wedding," he continued. "My people do not forget their loved ones easily, nor do they forgive the one responsible. If my feelings for you became known, they would believe that my loyalty no longer rested with them, but with their enemy and that is something that I cannot allow to happen. Not even for my own happiness."
"What if I conceived your child?" she asked, stiffing her spine and squaring her shoulders. "What will become of me then?"
"If you conceived this night, I will find a way for you to remain in my household," he assured her. "Somehow I will see to it that you see your child. I don't know the way of it, or how often I could arrange it, but I will work out something."
Her eyes shot daggers into him, but he could still see her hurt behind the anger. "You mean to tell me that I wouldn't be allowed to raise my own child?"
"My mother would raise him. You are a slave, Kat," he reminded her as gently as he could. "And as far as almost all are concerned, you are the enemy as well. The only reason that I myself could claim a son from your womb is because you are also my legal wife, if not for that, he, like you, would always be considered a slave. This entire situation is very complicated, Kat. There are no easy answers."
"I will not abandon my child to you and your family, then slink off and live the rest of my life as a slave," she said very slowly and precisely. "I will run away first. I swear I will."
He had no doubt she would do exactly as she threatened. He could not fault her feelings, yet nether could he condone them.
"I will never allow you to run away, Kat. You are mine. You will always be mine. Tonight, my taking of your virginity assured it."
Leif did not dodge the blow he saw coming. The sound of the slap she gave him ricocheted off the stones and echoed in the following silence. He understood her outrage. He had been with her in her time long enough to know that then such things would not be tolerated. But she was not in her time, she was in his.
Leif struggled for patience, hating the fact that he was hurting her. "Kat," he began. "You must understand--"
"I must understand nothing!" she cried angrily. "You're a barbarian! Do you hear me? Only a barbarian would believe that I could accept what you have told me. If this night results in a child, you can rest assured that no one in this entire world, yours or mine, will keep me from it. No one. I'll kill anyone who tries. Or die trying!"
He reached out to comfort her, but she pushed him away. With shaking hands she reached for her clothing, wincing as she saw the filthy condition of the garment.
"I brought this for you," he said softly as he handed her a bundle. "You should have been given a second set of garments."
She eyed the clean clothing before reaching for it. The look on her face told him clearly that she did not want to accept anything from him, but the desire for clean clothing was more than she could turn down.
She glared at him through narrowed eyes. Her beautiful face etched in bitterness as she fingered the fine material of the shift. "This is so soft," she said. "Are you sure your people will not turn against you if my skin is not rubbed raw by the wool skirts I'm forced to wear?"
Sneering did not become her, but he let it pass. She had had many shocks this night, a night where their love for one another was admitted, her virginity taken, and learning that she would not be allowed to be a mother to any children they may create.
Aye, he imagined that he, too, would be bitter under like circumstances.
"Lady, put it on," he said. "We must return home before the day takes hold of the skies again and my people see us returning together."
Her hand came flying out again but this time he caught it easily, squeezing her wrist harder than necessary.
"I will not allow you to abuse me, lady," he told her firmly. "I understand your discontent, but at this time there is nothing that I can do about it. Do not attempt to strike me again for rest assured and be forewarned that if you do, I will strike you back."
He released her arm and ignored the hurt that crumpled up her face. She had to learn her boundaries, her position. It was for her own protection.
Standing by the edge of the spring to allow her time to compose herself and dress, Leif took deep breaths as he tried to calm the erratic beating of his heart, a heart that was twisted with grief and confusion. How could he love her so and plot against her at the same time?
Whereas before he could understand the dilemma she had described when she found the pendant that would take him back in time, now he could actually taste the bitterness of it.
Aye, she had not wished to come to his time, and he did not wish to slay an infant. Yet neither seemed to have any choice in the matter. In the end, each had to do what they must do, no matter what the consequences.
Chapter Thirty
Kat and Leif made their way along the twisting path and up the hill in silence. Kat, her mind numb with hurt and disappointment, stopped as they crested the hill, and gazed to the east where Leif's village nestled in the fading darkness. Behind the village lay a forest and to the North were miles of fields. The neat rows of whatever crop was growing looked like an endless series of shadows and crevasses spread out over the earth as far as her eye could see.
Kat heard the ocean in the distance, the crashing of wave against rock seemed to be coming from beyond the hot springs they had just left and there was the unmistakable scent of salt in the dawn breeze.
"You are never to journey to the village," Leif told her. "The villagers will not to come to my fortress and confront me regarding you, but if they should see you in their midst you life would be forfeit."
Kat's patience snapped and she turned on him in a fury. "You know, I'm getting sick and tired of being told how many people hate me and doubly sick of being told where I can and can't go, what I can or can't wear and what I can or can't say. And besides--" she shoved up her loose sleeve and pointed to the arm band. "Isn't this supposed to ward off the evil citizens of this barbaric Viking world you like to call home?"
Her tirade was cut short when he clutched her to him and captured her lips with his, effectively cutting off her angry words.
This was not the gentle kiss of an hour ago. Kat had no allusions about the meaning of this kiss. Leif sought to dominate her with his strength. This was raw act of possession. His hands entrapped her back, one hand slid to her neck and fastened itself in her hair. His hold sure, tight, painful. His tongue slid into her mouth and crashed against hers. She tasted anger, disappointment and passion. Was it possible that he was as devastated and confused by the impossible situation they found themselves in as she was?
Kat's mind screamed against the angry assault, while her body flared to life with his ministrations. She felt the heat from his body course down the entire length of hers and her breath came in long, surrendering moans. Shivers of delight followed his touch. Her whole being flooded with desire. She could not disguise her body's reaction, her heart was near to bursting with love and anguish.
Oh, how had this happened? When had she lost control of her life? How was she ever going to be able to rely on herself again, knowing that one kiss, one brush of his hand across her skin was enough to reduce her to a quivering mass of need
.
Need of him.
Abruptly, he broke away. If he were as affected by the kiss as she, it did not show. Suddenly she felt chilled, bereft, and oh-so-alone. When she impulsively caught his face in her hands, his golden whiskers were stiff against her skin.
"Let's leave," she said. "My pendant is at the bottom of the ocean but it doesn't matter because it brought us here. Yours is the one that will take us back to my time. We could be together there. We could be happy."
She slid her palms down his chest, resting them on the slight bulge under his shirt. She felt the uncanny heat of the pendant work its way through his clothing and into her palm. A green glow escaped his collar, lighting the taut cords of his neck and his chin.
He grabbed her hands and thrust them away from him. His face darkened with anger as he glared down at her.
She felt open and exposed, vulnerable and at his mercy.
"Never touch my pendant again," he told her. "And you are not to indulge in another outburst like this again. You will not for any reason, ever, go into the village. Cavan knows this and will not require it of you. My family also has my instructions in this regard. You must obey me, or the consequences, should you live long enough to walk out of the village and return to me, will be dire. Do I make myself clear?"
The silence between them was pregnant. The pendant's glow had dissipated, leaving his face once again in the shadow of darkness. Dawn was breaking and Kat knew that they needed to get back before his family or men awoke. Still, she could not force the words of compliance from her lips. She had always been stubborn, but at this moment, the trait had taken on a life of its own.
She was tired of this. Sick and tired of it. And she was not afraid to show it.
Setting her jaw at a mutinous angle, she glared back at him until he placed his thumb and forefinger at either side of her jaw and squeezed until tears sprang to her eyes.