Freyja trotted over and nuzzled her hand, giving Kadlin an excuse to break his stare as she looked down at the eager face staring up at her. She swallowed repeatedly, desperate to relieve the tightness in her throat, all the while despising the distraction for the cowardly act that it was.
‘Avalt was just showing me how Freyja likes her ears scratched.’ She glanced up to catch his adoring gaze settle on Avalt. ‘He’s a brave boy, Kadlin,’ Gunnar added in a reverent voice.
Clearing her throat before she could speak, she nodded in agreement. ‘He is. He’s a strong son.’
Avalt beamed at her with a smile so like his father’s rarely seen one that her breath hitched. Holding out her hand to him, she waited for him to come over and take it in his smaller one before returning her attention to Gunnar. This time she noticed that his leg was merely wrapped in linen. ‘Your splints are gone. Did Harald say you had healed?’
He shrugged, but his eyes were assessing and cautious as he looked her over. ‘Healed enough. The knee won’t bend still, but I suspect that it never will.’
He wouldn’t press the issue of their son. She didn’t know if she should be relieved or angry, so she tried not to be either one and let numbness settle over her. ‘I’ve put the fish in the ashes in the hearth outside to smoke. Could you tend it while we go to meet Ingrid at the river, if you feel up to it?’
‘I thought I might attempt a trip to the river myself, without the splints hindering me.’
He grabbed the sapling and was tensing to push himself to his feet, when the panic overwhelmed her. The need to escape him was foremost in her mind. It was too soon after finding such unspeakable pleasure in his arms last night, too soon after having him lay eyes on Avalt, for her to be around him. She needed time to understand what had happened, figure out their relationship now, and she couldn’t do that with him so near to her.
‘Not today, Gunnar.’ She couldn’t keep the panic from her voice.
He paused midway through rising, a flash of disappointment, maybe even pain, crossing his features before they smoothed out again and he let himself drop back down into his seat. He inclined his head once. ‘I’ll check the fish for you.’
‘There’s porridge and honey if you’re hungry.’ She nodded towards the earthenware pot near him on the table. The same table she’d been working at the night before when he’d touched her. The memory made her cheeks flame, so she turned towards the door to hide it.
‘Tonight, Kadlin.’ The words came out strong and deep. A command. Her heart must have stopped for a moment in her chest, because she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything. ‘You won’t avoid me then.’ A quick glance back over her shoulder confirmed that his gaze was every bit as hot and fierce as his tone. Butterflies swam in her belly and anticipation prickled up her spine. There was no doubting that he was right, so she fled. It was the only thing she could do.
Chapter Seventeen
Kadlin stepped to the door of her chamber and stopped with her hand pressing against the cool wood. Night had fallen long ago and yet she had lingered after putting Avalt to bed because she was so afraid of what would come next. If Gunnar had meant to keep her anxious and unfocused all day, he couldn’t have chosen better words for the task. She spent the day dropping everything she touched and even burning the honey cakes she’d hoped to serve with the fish for their supper. She’d served them anyway, reasoning that it was Gunnar’s fault that she had burnt them so he should have to eat them. Not that she’d actually had the enjoyment of watching him choke them down. She had left his food at his door without giving him a chance to join them for the meal, though even that act of defiance had left her guilt-ridden.
He had every right to confront her about Avalt. He’d been capable of discussing the truth about their son for weeks now, so she should have done the right thing. She should have swallowed her anger with his abandonment and told him...for Avalt. Yet the way he had summoned her... She couldn’t determine if his words had been meant as a warning or sensual promise. The man was a mystery to her now as much as he had ever been.
She was afraid of the power he held over her, even as she craved its effect. He could so easily make her turn to him again. Deep in her heart, she realised that she could never rid herself of the love that lurked there. Her only choice to shield herself from it was to run. He’d all but told her that they still couldn’t be together in any way except physical, but even knowing that she found herself walking out into the passageway and making her way to his door. Heart pounding in her throat, she raised a hand and knocked. It wasn’t latched closed and swung open with the rap of her knuckles.
Gunnar stood with his back to her. The light from a few candles illuminated the muscles in his shoulders and back, flexing under his golden skin with each turn of his sword as he swung it back and forth at shoulder level. The movement was meant to make him fall off balance, but he was doing a remarkable job of keeping his weight balanced on his right leg while his straightened left leg pushed him out at an awkward angle. The exertion must have been extraordinary if the harsh breath he took with each swing was any indication. The answering tug deep within her belly to each sound made her shift uncomfortably and she would have left had he not stopped and turned to face her. One side of his mouth tipped up in a knowing grin and his eyes pinned her in place, deep and mesmerising despite how tired he must be. Her pulse faltered for a beat before she could gather her wits.
‘I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back.’
‘You didn’t. I’ve been waiting for you to put Avalt to bed.’
Kadlin took a deep breath and stood firm under his scrutiny. She had lingered in bed with Avalt much longer than usual, almost to the point of thinking that he might come for her. Turning back, he placed his sword in the corner and leaned heavily against the wall as he limped to the crude table holding a basin of water. She dug her fingernails into her palms to keep herself from helping him. With his independent streak, he wouldn’t appreciate her assistance. Instead, she forced a lightness in to her tone and changed the subject. ‘You haven’t forgotten how to swing a sword, I see. I knew the warrior in you would overcome the challenge of your leg.’
‘Perhaps,’ he said as he splashed water over his face, the droplets sluicing down his shoulders and back. ‘But it’s not nearly enough.’ He glanced at her before reaching for his wadded-up shirt on the bed and wiping the sweat and water from his face.
‘That’s only for now. You’ll get better.’
Straightening, his smile returned. It was surprising that the bitterness that so often coloured his eyes and voice when they spoke of his injury wasn’t present. This was the smile she loved and it moved through her, warming her in all the places that had gone dormant when he had left. ‘You truly think so, don’t you?’
She nodded and he grabbed the sapling to make his way towards her. ‘Of course I do.’ A delicious tingle snaked its way through her body with every laborious step that brought him closer to her. That feeling as much as anything had made her seek him out tonight. Her cheeks flamed at the silent admission.
‘You’re the only one who has ever believed in me. Thank you for that.’ He came to a stop before her, close, but not touching.
Her gaze caught on a droplet of water that worked its way from his broad shoulder to the hard muscle of his chest. ‘You don’t have to thank me. It’s the truth.’ She believed in him because she knew what he was capable of doing, not because she needed his acknowledgement.
Catching her under her chin, he tilted her chin up and waited for her to meet his gaze before he spoke. ‘I know that I don’t. I want to. There’s much I want to make up to you.’ Then he fell silent, leaving her to gaze up into the depths of his amber eyes.
Was that an apology for leaving her behind? Her bottom lip trembled, so she bit the inside to stop it. ‘Is that an apology?’
His
Her breath trembled in her chest, stuck there because she was too afraid to learn the answers to her questions. Last night had been wonderful. Last night had been a piece of what they might have had without everything coming between them. Was it horrible of her to want to have that again before it got taken away?
It was easier to change the subject. ‘How is your leg without the splints? Does it still pain you?’
He blinked at her abrupt change of subject, but that was the only indication that it might have thrown him off. After a moment, he nodded and followed her gaze down to the appendage. ‘Aye, there’s still an ache. I suppose there always will be.’
‘What does Harald say?’
Raising his hand again, he gently pulled her chin up so that she would look at him. ‘Kadlin...’ But whatever he saw in her face made him grimace in pain and press a light kiss to her forehead. Then he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Her hands went to his shoulders, naturally, as if they belonged there, as if her hands already knew just how broad they would be. As if he was hers.
He sighed into her hair. ‘Harald doesn’t know. There are no certainties.’
‘Go lie down.’ The words were a whisper, but she repeated them so they came out a bit stronger. ‘I’d like to take a look at that leg.’ When he paused as if to argue, she stepped back to gently break his hold before taking his hand and leading him to the bed, mindful of his slower progress. It gave her time to savour the warmth of his larger hand surrounding hers.
Once he’d settled with his left leg outstretched on the blanket and the wall at his back, he raised a brow at her. ‘Do as you will.’
Without a word, she took a seat on the bed and began unwrapping the bindings. They were tight enough to keep the bone and muscle confined while still giving him more mobility than the splints. When she finally pulled the last of them away, she ran her fingers over the red markings left from the cloth and then moved a finger across the shin. It was obvious that his left calf was a bit smaller than the right, probably from muscle loss, but it wouldn’t be long before at least some of that came back, if he had his way.
‘Harald mentioned that rubbing the muscle can sometimes ease the ache of healing.’ Without waiting for permission, she moved both hands to the flesh beneath his knee and moved them down with slight pressure on each side of his calf to end at his ankle. The dusting of dark red hair abraded her palms in a way that threatened to distract her, so she looked up to his face to make sure it was helping, but that was a mistake.
He wasn’t watching her rub his leg at all. His gaze was firmly fixed on her face, stroking as palpably as if he was using his fingertips. A pleasant warmth lit in her belly and spread outward, making her breasts tighten in awareness of him. Those amber eyes were a deep gold now, mesmerising, warm. They made her want to climb inside them until nothing hurt any more.
‘How does this feel?’ She couldn’t manage more than a whisper.
For a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer and his stare deepened somehow, darkening until only a thin sliver of gold remained. When he did speak, his voice was harsh, raspy with need and want all rolled into one. ‘Come here, Kadlin.’
Her hands faltered for a moment before resuming their stroke down his leg, but only after she managed to jerk her gaze from his. ‘I’m afraid,’ she answered truthfully. Afraid of losing herself to him again.
‘Aye, I know that you are.’ Leaning forward, he took her wrist and pulled it to him, placing a soft kiss on each finger. ‘But I won’t hurt you again. You have my vow.’
His lips were soft as they brushed each finger, making each one tingle in turn. His fingertips stroked up and down the tender inside of her wrist, spreading the tingle up her arm, weakening her.
‘Gunnar...there’s so much that’s happened...’
His kiss moved to her palm where he lightly scraped his unshaven face over the sensitised skin, causing her to shiver as she took a deep breath. ‘There is much to be said and we’ll talk all night if that’s what you want.’ He paused and gave her a meaningful look. ‘But I don’t think you want to talk tonight.’
Nay, she didn’t want to talk tonight. She wanted him. She wanted to make everything go away so that it was just them and the love that ached to bloom between them. A taste of what had been, after the years of drought. There was no future to worry about and no past to hurt them. Her body moved of its own accord, pulled to him and everything that he was offering. Slowly, as if he wanted to make her aware that the choice was fully hers to make, he dropped her hand to his chest and reached up to pull out the silver fastenings holding her hair up. Then he gently released her braids, running his fingers through the strands until her hair was flowing free down to her waist.
‘Does it make me a coward if I confess that you’re right?’ Her voice was barely a whisper.
‘We need each other just as we need the air to breathe. To deny that is to deny a part of ourselves. I can’t deny it any more, no matter what has happened.’
‘And what of tomorrow?’ She breathed the words, afraid to know.
‘There is no tomorrow where I am not yours.’
Delving her fingers into the damp hair resting at the nape of his neck, she pulled his mouth to hers, opening for his kiss and savouring the hot stroke of his tongue against her own. The allure of calling this man her own, even for just a little while, was heady and too powerful for her to resist. He had always been hers and claiming him was only natural. With a whimper of need, she moved to straddle his lap, as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against his chest. They kissed, his tongue moving against hers, stoking the heat inside her until her lungs burned and she had to break free to catch her breath.
He brought a length of her hair to his face, closing his eyes as he breathed in her scent. ‘Do you know I took a lock with me when I left you? So that I could stroke it every day and remember how it felt splayed across my chest.’
Biting back a smile, she nodded. ‘I suspected. Did you...did you really...?’ But the question fell away. Now was not the time to question him.
‘Think of you every day?’ he finished for her. ‘Aye, love, every moment of every day for as long as I can remember.’
For the first time she allowed herself to believe that perhaps that was true. Giving in to the allure of his warmth, she moved her palm over the dips and planes of his chest, savouring his heat and the beat of his heart beneath her hand. It was the first time she had touched him, explored him of her own volition, since that night so long ago. ‘One night with you wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough,’ she confessed, raising her eyes to meet his again. There was that look again, so heavy and deep that she could happily drown in it.
‘Kadlin.’ He paused, and her heart paused with him. ‘I want you to know that there hasn’t been another woman since that night.’
‘What do you mean?’ Her heart refused to allow her to believe what her mind insisted those words meant.
‘I haven’t had a woman in over two years, not since our night together.’ He cupped her face in his large palm. ‘You’ve always been the one I wanted. I’ve never imagined another wife in my future. Every woman I ever had in my bed left me imagining what it would be like to bed you, hold you, love you. After our night together there seemed to be little solace to be found in the arms of another. She would never be you. She would never compare to you.’ Leaning forward just slightly, he brushed his mouth over hers so his next words were spoken against her lips. ‘I couldn’t stomach the thought of her not being you.’
The urge to call him a liar was on the tip of her tongue, but when he pulled back and she met his eyes again, they were the earnest gold of the boy she had loved, though a man looked back at her now. They were the eyes that had gazed at her with trust and honesty all through the nights of their childhood; the eyes of longing that had occasionally met hers across his father’s fire; the eyes of the warrior who had battled for so long he didn’t know when or how to stop. All coalesced into the perfectly flawed man before her.
‘Gunnar...’ She blinked to fight back the ache of tears. ‘I didn’t know if you...if it had meant anything to you. I thought I knew, but then you spoke so harshly, and then you left... .’
‘It did, Kadlin. I vow to you that it did.’ He kissed a corner of her mouth, the tip of his tongue tracing her bottom lip and leaving a burning trail of temptation as he pressed a kiss to the other side. ‘I’ve always been yours.’ He moved his wrists, wrapping her hair around each of them until she was tightly secured to him. His stare never wavered. ‘Leaving you that night was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I could only do it because I knew I was doing what was best for you. But I’m taking you tonight, reclaiming what is mine.’
Her lips parted on a gasp, but instead of taking advantage, he dipped his head and took her bottom lip between his teeth. The light scrape was so quick and unexpected, that she gasped again, but it turned into a sound in the back of her throat that she didn’t recognise when his tongue stroked over it. Only then did his mouth claim hers in a hungry kiss that left her arching into him, parting her lips beneath his to take everything that he wanted to give her. But when she stroked her tongue over his lower lip, he retreated, his breath harsh as he looked down at her.
‘Kadlin,’ he whispered her name over and over as if he couldn’t get enough of saying it. His lips brushed her cheekbones, her chin, her ear, leaving a path of heat in their wake. He growled against her neck, making her smile as gooseflesh prickled her skin. Closing her eyes and moving her head to accommodate his hot, open-mouthed kisses, she groaned softly when his teeth scraped across her skin. Her hands went to the hem of her dress, tugging it up along with the wool of her overdress. His hands were there to help, pulling the garments roughly over her head so that they soon joined his discarded shirt on the floor.
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