Married To The Cowboy (Love In Collin's Ranch 3)

by Veronica Wilson

  “Oh, Aila,” Dagmar grinned. “Do you have any idea how lovely you are?”

  “Show me,” she begged, her body already starting to hum. The first kiss rocked her to her core as her body revved up. Dagmar answered her hunger with his own need, lying back and bringing her with him. She straddled him, surprised by the immense power it gave her. His hands were everywhere, stoking the desire that whipped through her. Garment after garment was stripped away until Aila felt her skin warm against Dagmar’s. She leaned down and kissed him fully, her warm tongue tangling with his as his large hands kneaded her breasts. Then those lovely, callous-roughened hands took hold of her hips and lifted, angling her warm pussy over him. Penetration came quickly this time and Aila winced in anticipation of pain that did not come.

  Dagmar was still a considerable man to deal with, but Aila gloried in the painless act of making love. Mesmerized by him, Aila gave herself up to the intense rhythm that fed her want even as it seemed to fulfill an even hotter need in Dagmar. He pumped into her, using her hips to lift her and using his hands to bring her down again. Each thrust spoke of a need she had to fill, within both of them. Strange that outside of ruling their people, Aila could picture no man who suited her quite the way Dagmar did. So why did she resist the idea of marriage so strongly?

  Feeling the incredible force of Dagmar’s thrusts, Aila closed her mind to everything except the way he made her feel. She moved in time with him, pushing them both to peak. On a cry of pure ecstasy, Aila came hard as Dagmar thrust deep into her wet pussy.

  That night neither of them spoke of the impending decisions that hung over their heads. They spoke of their early days and how their friendship had meant the world to them, for different reasons. Dagmar told Aila about the moment he learned his parents had died on the trip over.

  “I’ll never forget the gut-wrenching pain of it. They were here in my memories and, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t bring them here. I couldn’t give them life through those memories.”

  “I remember feeling numb for the longest time. I ate and I dressed and I worked, but I wasn’t living. I just wasn’t dying, except on the inside. It was you who saved me.”

  “How?” Dagmar asked.

  “By being my friend. By never asking me to be okay or to get over it. You gave me unconditional love and space; two things I needed desperately. I remember that afternoon, after we learned your parents had died. I bawled and bawled. I cried until my whole body hurt. It wasn’t fair that we should both lose our parents in such senseless ways.”

  “I remember hearing about your parents. I was still reeling from losing mine, and I can’t tell you how hard it was not to go out and beat someone to death. I wanted someone to feel the emptiness I felt inside. I had no idea that it would be you.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Aila said, running her finger through the sparse red hair on Dagmar’s chest. “You saved me, and I think in a way we saved each other.”

  “I know we did,” Dagmar said, caressing her long, dark hair. “If I hadn’t had you I would have gone insane. I probably would have tried to kill myself. You were the one who showed me that we could still go on. We could still live despite the tremendous loss of our parents.”

  “You showed me that I was still needed,” Aila smiled, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “I like being needed by you.”

  “I do need you, Aila,” Dagmar smiled. “More than I would have admitted to, even six days ago. Whatever we decide, I’m always with you, okay? I’ll always support you.”

  “But not enough to step aside and let me lead?”

  “No,” Dagmar sighed. “How could I live with myself if someone or something hurt you? I wouldn’t survive losing you. You were there to help me with losing my parents. No one would be there to console me to the degree I’d need if you got hurt because you were leading our people.”

  “Oh, I get it. It’s okay for me to do anything else that puts my life in danger, like hunt or go to war. But leading, that sort of thing is for real men to do, right?”

  “Would you quit putting words in my mouth?” Dagmar said. “All I’m saying is that being the ruler of a people comes with a known danger that others might not like you. If they don’t like you and they see you as a threat, they would easily try to snuff you out. I couldn’t live with myself if you died because I gave in and let you become the official ruler of our people.”

  “Then I guess there’s nothing else for us to say to each other,” Aila said. She stood and dressed, all the while ignoring Dagmar’s pleas to stay inside where it was warm. When she was finally dressed, Aila opened his tent and walked over to her own. She looked up one last time, seeing Dagmar watching her, before she stepped into her own tent and closed the flap behind her.

  THE END

  Highlander's Desire

  Chapter One: Preparations

  Aila Forsberg stepped out of her tent and scowled. Two weeks before Solstice and her people were no closer to a ruler, no closer to celebrating their time-honored traditions. With so little time left, it was odd to see holly just being strung up around the food tent. Holly wreaths should be seen on every tent from here to the river, but nothing was the way it should be.

  Walking briskly to Dagmar Stalson’s tent, Aila pulled the flap back and stepped inside. “We need to put up a tree, Dagmar,” she said as her eyes adjusted to the dark interior. She recognized most of the furnishings and other accoutrements and to her humiliation, she also recognized Asgurda Dansberg. The blonde-haired beauty had a rack the size of Big Bertha, their people’s sole ship.

  “Aila,” Dagmar said. “So nice of you to drop in, again.”

  “I’ll apologize for interrupting you so early this morning, but we need to find a solution to this. Our people aren’t even holding to tradition.”

  “How can they, when they don’t have a ruler?” Dagmar asked, his look challenging her.

  “You know how I feel about it, Dagmar. I am the rightful ruler. I, alone, have the birth right.”

  “So I should throw away my right to rule, just to save face?”

  “You should throw it away because you know I’m the rightful ruler.”

  “Nice try,” Dagmar said. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ll have a ruler soon enough. One way or another, we’ll settle this between us.”

  “In time for our people to celebrate our traditions?” Aila challenged.

  “In time.” Dagmar stepped toward her and grabbed hold of her arm, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have company.”

  “This isn’t over,” Aila seethed. She wouldn’t let it hurt that Dagmar had brought another woman to his bed scarcely three days after she’d left it. But had their time together, her first time, meant so little?

  Holding her fury close to her chest, Aila knew that if she didn’t start pulling her people together, Dagmar would simply let them fall apart. Searching out Svenbreck, Aila decided that starting her offense might just undo Dagmar’s defense. Even so, she knew she’d have to lay the framework early, before the whole village sided with him. If he wanted to fight and tear their people apart, she’d make sure she took as many with her as she could.

  ***

  Dagmar said farewell to his morning delight, promising to see her later at supper. Then he focused on meeting Aila’s challenge. He’d never expected the sorry state his love life would be in after the loss of Aila. Asgurda had been beyond willing, but he hadn’t been able to impress her, let alone satisfy her. His mind and, he feared, his heart as well were consumed by the dark-haired beauty who’d shared her innocence with him when he’d shared his bed. The little girl who’d crossed the North Sea with him had grown into a sensually beautiful woman, and she tempted him like no other.

  Cursing, Dagmar went in search of Dragna. If Aila wanted to split their camps up so they could both rule that was fine by him, but he’d have Dragna on his side. He feared that if he couldn’t win the old cook over he just might starve to death.

  “Dragna?”

  �
�In here, young Dagmar,” came the older woman’s voice. “What can I do for you?”

  “I have a hypothetical question for you.”

  “Alright,” she said, standing to her full height and still barely reaching Dagmar’s stomach.

  “Aila and I, as you well know, aren’t any closer to figuring out which one of us should rule. If we can’t decide it between us, we’ll have to split the camp into two; those who are supportive of her rule and those who wish that I would rule.”

  “Why don’t you just rule together?”

  “It’s an idea, for sure,” Dagmar agreed. “We just haven’t figured out how to do it so both of us feel satisfied with the outcome.”

  “Why not just marry Aila? You’d get to rule by her side, and you certainly can’t complain about her bedroom activities.”

  “Dragna!” Dagmar chuckled.

  “You don’t get to be as old as I am, sonny, without learning a thing or two about people.”

  “Just don’t say anything to her. I have a feeling she’d like to keep that private.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Dragna smiled. “Just so you know where I stand… I have a love for both of you, and would much rather see you rule together than tear our village apart. If that were to happen, however, you should know that I’d not follow either of you. My tent would stay right here, and any who wanted to eat my cooking would be welcome, no matter who they followed.”

  “Fair enough,” Dagmar agreed. “You should know that whether or not Aila and I agree to anything, I’ll still be eating here.”

  “Does my heart good to know it,” Dragna said.

  Dagmar figured with that over he’d start talking to their people. He needed to know what they really thought about him and Aila, whether they were more for splitting apart or working it out. Searching out Breslin and Bregnan, twins who were known as much for their merriment as their fist-in-the-face fighting style, he started his impromptu survey.

  “Well look what the mangy cat drug in,” Breslin said, a smile spreading easily across his features.

  “Well I'll be damned, I think I’m seeing things.” This came from Bregnan as he slapped his brother on the back.

  “Funny. You two should start a humorous duo,” Dagmar chuckled. Hugging them in the way men do, Dagmar continued, “I’ve missed you two brutes around here.”

  “Ah, don’t be starting no sentimental bullshit,” Bregnan said, slapping him hard enough to make him cough.

  “If you two have a minute I’d like to discuss something with you.”

  “Shoot,” Breslin said, pouring Dagmar a cup of wine.

  “As you and everyone in the village knows, Aila and I have been at odds for a while over who should rule Hail.”

  “You and Aila have been at odds as long as we can remember,” Breslin chuckled. “I figured when we all grew up maybe you’d shag her and you could both move on.”

  Dagmar couldn’t explain the urge that rose up in him to punch Breslin in the face. He wasn’t a careless lover, but neither was he overly protective. The fact that he wanted to protect Aila from sneering remarks worried him. Clamping down on his temper, Dagmar let his two friends jest about the rumors of his love life.

  “Rumor has it you’re apparently not as good between the skins as everyone assumes.”

  “Asgurda caught me on a rare, and unfortunately unexplainably bad, night.”

  “Is that it?” Bregnan said, prompting his brother to laugh. “Rumor also has it that Aila wasn’t too pleased to find another woman in your bed.”

  “Whether or not Aila was pleased isn’t my concern.” Dagmar tried to steer the conversation back to what he needed to know.

  “The way I heard it,” Bregnan smirked. “Aila looked hurt when she noticed Asgurda in your bed. Hurt like a woman who’d seen herself taking up permanent residence there.”

  Frustrated, Dagmar pulled a hand through his hair. “Aila and I had one night together. If she read anything further into it, it’s her fault and not a bit of mine.”

  “Bad form, Dagmar,” Breslin smiled. “A woman who pictures herself with a man long term is worth looking twice at.”

  “And I suppose you two, who have yet to marry, are the pictures of wisdom on women?”

  “And who says that marrying has anything at all to do with knowing how women think, or what they want?”

  “And who says we aren’t about to get married?”

  “You two? Please,” Dagmar laughed. But when the two brothers exchanged a glance, Dagmar had to ask. “When?”

  “Just after Solstice. Our women are headed here from across the sea.”

  “Will you marry as soon as they arrive?”

  “It is our custom to marry once a woman has been chosen, but we may wait a few days and let them get settled first.”

  “Congratulations,” Dagmar said, trying to swallow his shocked surprise. “I hope that if Aila and I do split the village up that you’ll both consider coming with me.”

  “We’ll give it some thought,” they both agreed. “Although it’d be a much finer arrangement to give Aila a good shag and have her singing your praises until eternity, wouldn’t it?”

  “You’d be surprised how fast those praises run out.”

  Both men were laughing heartily when Dagmar walked away.

  ***

  “So you really think Dagmar will push it to the point of breaking the village up, just to manipulate you into ruling with him or letting him rule alone?”

  “I don’t know,” Aila told Svenbreck. “I’d like to think that our friendship means more to him than that, but he’s proving incredibly stubborn on this.”

  “It seems like it,” Sven agreed. “Well, if you’re asking me, you’ve got to know that I’m coming with you. I like your style of leadership. It suits our community well and provides a stable environment where everyone’s needs are met in a timely and adequate manner. I’m afraid Dagmar’s ability to keep us safe and provided for is less than exemplary.”

  “Oh, if I could be a fly on the wall if you told him that to his face,” Aila laughed. “Dagmar would make a suitable leader, if he’d only listen to reason.”

  “What reason?”

  “We had, as you know, a solution-based meeting of the townspeople a few days ago. Tonight we read the solutions to see if any of them will work between us.”

  “What if they don’t?”

  “Then we’ll have to decide how and when to split the village. We’ll need to decide who goes with him, which would largely be up to our people. Then I’d have to find a place to build my people a home.”

  “That’s a lot to take on if no solution is found, Aila.”

  “Don’t I know it,” she agreed. As they made their way back into camp, Aila stopped. “Thanks Sven, for listening and for not offering your two cents, even when you easily could have.”

  “It’s not a problem Aila. Like I said, I’m always here for you.” Before Aila could move away, Sven cupped her cheek, sliding a firm forefinger under her chin. His lips claimed hers in a heated, not-so-subtle kiss. When he pulled back she saw the dark desire in his eyes before he smiled and turned to walk away.

  Stirred more than she was willing to admit, Aila headed for the infirmary. Stepping into the dark building, Aila smelled liniment and the nearly overpowering smell of iron, mainly from blood.

  “Ah, Aila. What brings you here?”

  “It’s good to see you, Ragnick,” Aila smiled. Hugging the man warmly she stepped back. “I hear business is slow right now.”

  “Of that I’m thankful,” Ragnick sighed. “In my line of work if I have a slow day it means no one died.”

  “That is always a good day.”

  “So, what really brought you by?”

  Aila had never been able to hide anything from Ragnick, not even as a child when she’d wanted desperately to keep her boo-boos from being treated. “I came by to talk to you about the predicament we’re all in.”

  “You mean about who should
rule our people?”

  “Yes,” Aila said. She talked to Ragnick for another fifteen minutes before she left. She pretended not to see Dagmar headed her way and ducked behind the chicken pens to hide. When he ducked into the infirmary she grinned. Ragnick would certainly put him in his place.

  Chapter Two: Love and War

  “Dagmar, how nice to see you.”

  Dagmar hugged his longtime friend, thumping the older man on the back with gusto. “Good to see you too my friend.”

  “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “I came by to talk to you about this disagreement I’ve been having with Aila.”

  “Go on.”

  “As I’m sure you know, we’ve been at odds for quite some time now about which of us should rule over Hail.”

  “Yes.”

  “It appears that if we cannot settle this argument between us, we will likely split Hail in two, her taking her people and me taking mine.”

  “Does that seem prudent, with the Winter Solstice coming and winter already sprinkling the ground with snow?”

  “No, it’s not prudent, but I'll be damned if I can get Aila to bend on this. She’s always been stubborn, but on this she’s like a mountain, totally immoveable.”

  “She has her father’s spirit.” Ragnick smiled when Dagmar only grunted. “I will support you both Dagmar. Both of your peoples will be treated here, I don’t care who’s ruling.”

  “I figured as much, old man,” Dagmar laughed. “Can you at least tell me which way Aila was headed?”

  “I suggested she take some quiet time and relax at the bathing spring.”

  Dagmar hugged Ragnick again and headed toward the spring. He couldn’t explain the excitement that raced through him as he drew closer to the spring. It was common for the people of Hail to take advantage of the warm springs, even during the winter. But the idea of seeing Aila there sent a rush through Dagmar that he hadn’t felt since the last time he’d touched her.