Vikings' Brides Box Set

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Vikings' Brides Box Set Page 81

by Jessica Knight


  “You know, you can act like the sweet innocent princess, but I know better. You and your family are a real piece of work. The nerve you have to blackmail my family and think there would be no consequences? Maybe you are the one without a brain.” I spew water out of my mouth as I keep swimming.

  “You’re a Karsten?” she sputters. As if she really had no clue.

  “I wager you knew when you saw me on the border. Was it your father who told you to ‘tend’ to me to gain my trust or something? I’m no fool. That was no coincidence.”

  She shakes her head, struggling to stay above water. “No, I swear. I had no idea, Trident. I was there….” she blushes, “I was there for another reason. I only found out tonight what my parents were doing. I swear, I didn’t know.”

  “Lies!” I roar. “It doesn’t matter. I have the upper hand now.” I finally get to the rope of the anchor and pull us in. The side of the boat is slick, but the ladder is sturdy. I haul her into my arms and start climbing. When we get to the top, I keep her in my arms and hop over the side until we land on the deck.

  “I’m a Karsten, and I’m here to avenge my family.”

  I try to ignore how good she feels in my arms as I carry her to the cabin below. My nose goes to the top of her head, and even with it saturated with seawater, it still smells light and fresh, like a field of cotton. Nothing, no one, has ever felt so good.

  When we get below, it’s a bit dusty and unused. There is a thick layer of grime everywhere, and when I plop her on the bed, a big cloud of dirt puffs into the air. She sneezes, and despite my rage, it is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.

  And then she opens her mouth.

  “You could have cleaned,” she grumbles.

  I unlock the shackle on my wrist and clasp it to beam to make sure she doesn’t try anything.

  “Oh, you have got to be kidding.” She pulls on the chain. “Where am I going to go? We are in the middle of the ocean. I’m exhausted.”

  “I don’t trust you. You’re an Aland, after all.” For all I know, she will kill me in my sleep.

  “And you’re a ruthless Karsten.”

  I lean forward until my nose is touching hers, and her breath ghosts over my lips. “And don’t you forget it.”

  With those parting words, I leave her alone in the dirty cabin, fighting my urge not to turn around and press my lips against hers.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sylvie

  I tug on the chain connecting me to the beam, and the iron cuff rubs against my wrist. Combined with the water and the constant friction, my skin is rubbed raw, and it itches. It’s driving me mad. I let out a breath as the boat dips with another wave.

  “Can’t believe this is happening,” I mutter to myself and hit my head against the side of the boat. I never thought this would be my life.

  When I dreamed of how I sailed across this ocean with a handsome man, I never took into consideration that I could be kidnapped and cuffed. I know now to take every detail into account.

  “Stupid, hot, insane, dangerous Viking. I knew I was right. Aya is delusional,” I say to myself, again. I might as well get acquainted with myself since no one else is here.

  “Talking to yourself?”

  I don’t bother looking to my left. I know who is in the doorway. The voice should terrify me, but instead, the low rasp makes my spine tingle and my belly flutter. “Better than talking to you,” I spit, not looking away from the lines in the wood. I bet this ship is antique. The wood seems aged. It’s pretty.

  “I don’t know about that. I’m pretty great company if I do say so myself.”

  “Aye? Then don’t say, because you’re not.” This time I do move my head, giving him a glare that I hope knocks him off his feet and into the ocean. Wishful thinking, I suppose. “Don’t you have a ship to steer?” The chain tugs again as I tuck my feet under my butt.

  “We are fine for a few minutes. I wanted to see how you were holding up.”

  “Like you care,” I say with a shake of my head.

  “I do care. More than you think. I’m not a bad man. This isn’t something I do.”

  I huff, “Oh. You mean, you don’t go around kidnapping people? You seem like a professional. I thought you did this for sport.”

  “For a lady, you have a wicked tongue,” he growls.

  “I’m no lady, and manners are something you shall not get from me.”

  Trident uncrosses his arms and steps out of the shadows. Half his face is illuminated by the glow of the moon, and I hate that I notice it is a really handsome half. His hair is unkempt, and he has something in his eyes, something that tells me he isn’t completely heartless. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s there. Shining at me like the sun at high noon.

  “We will get along just fine then because I am no gentleman.”

  I hit my hand to my chest and gasp. “You don’t say? Why, you could have had me fooled. You know, with the entire kidnapping and handcuffing thing.” I make sure every word is dripping in sarcasm and disdain. I have a tough vibrato, and I can put on a brave face, but that doesn’t mean a part of me isn’t scared. He is a Viking, after all.

  He steps forward, so softly I can’t even hear his boots hit the floor, and his entire body comes into view. He has his shirt off, and his pants ride low on his hips, showing the carved paths of muscle on either side that disappear into the fabric. He may not be my favorite person in the world, but I’m still a woman, and I’m not dead. Of course I’m going to notice how good looking he is.

  Really, really, heart-throbbingly good looking. He has golden skin, marred with a few scars like any good warrior. His abs, goddess, his abs are chiselled and ripped. Every time he takes a step they stretch and flex. I swallow, my throat dry. Probably from the saltwater I inhaled when we were swimming.

  Obviously. That must be it.

  His pecs have the perfect curve, and he has a light dusting of brown hair over the muscular swells. His nipples are darker than I thought they would be, teasing me like a tasty treat. I swallow again when my face begins to heat.

  “My eyes are up here, darling,” he purrs, motioning with his fingers.

  I trail my eyes to his face, his very handsome face that is just as good looking as the rest of his body, and part my lips to intake a much-needed breath. Quickly, I let the mask fall over my face again and shake myself out of the lusty stupor I find myself in around him.

  “Well, I’ve realized the only thing worth looking at when I have to be around you is your body. Other than that, you’re a complete waste of my time.” The lie tastes rancid on my tongue, but it is something that needs to be said. I have to make sure I keep him at arm’s length. He is the kind of man I can drop my guard for, and I can’t allow that to happen.

  His hand reaches for my face, and I flinch, pulling away from his touch, but I can only go so far until my head hits the side of the boat. He tilts his head to the side, his thick brows folding together as his hand hovers in the air. His rough, calloused fingers brush against my chin, pulling it slowly to face him.

  I get lost in the soft touch. My nerves zing through my body. Every part of me is awake and alive, yet relaxed. His hands are different than the men my parents want me with. Trident’s hands are experienced with work. His pads of his fingers are rough, scratching against my sensitive flesh.

  He has the hands of a real man.

  Damn it; I want to hate him even more now.

  “I might be the man that kidnapped you for my own selfish reason, but you don’t need to be afraid of me. I won’t harm you. I would never harm a woman.”

  “You already have,” I whisper, pulling on the shackle again.

  His eyes drift to the shackle binding me, and his hand drops to my wrist, running his fingers around the red, cracking skin.

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea it was hurting you,” he says, pulling a large key from his pocket. He inserts it in the small hole in the shackle and turns it. Metal clicks and the brac
elet opens. Gently, he slips my hand free of the constraint and lays it on the bed.

  I fall a little bit for him in that moment. I see something soft within him. Some caring kindness that makes my heart weep for more. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll do something? Like jump off the boat and swim away, or hit you over the head with something and shackle you to the cot?”

  He rubs his finger over my bruised wrist and lifts a brow at me with a small tilt of his lips. “Thought that through, have you?”

  “A girl has a lot of time to think down here by herself.”

  “Well, it’s a chance I’ll have to take because my mother would skin me if she knew I hurt a woman.”

  “How shall she feel about you kidnapping one?” I ask, jerking my hand away from his touch. I cradle the aching arm against my chest, trying not to miss his touch. Something about it brings me comfort. And that is no good. That… that is bad. Very bad.

  “She will see that I did it for our family, and she will understand. She won’t be happy about it, but she’d do anything for my father and our family. Our name is everything, and we don’t need your family ruining it.”

  I want to tell him what I heard my father say before I ran up to my room during the party, but I don’t. I keep my mouth shut. I’m not sure why. He deserves to know what my father has planned. I suppose I don’t want to give the only leverage I have left to get out of this situation.

  If I want to get out of this situation.

  “Yeah, my father has gone on and on about that stupid feud,” I nod.

  He scoffs. “Ah, so you have heard the story.”

  “More times than you can count. Nearly every day.”

  Our eyes meet. A sudden mutual understanding passes between us. He leans forward, and my eyes drop to his lips. I flick my eyes to his and see him staring at mine, too. But then he stands back up.

  “I must get back upstairs. To make sure we are still on course.”

  “Right,” I say, the moment between us broken. No, wait. Not a moment. That type of thing can’t happen here. I’m being blinded by his good looks. Other than that, there is nothing good about him.

  Trident stands, giving me one last look before he turns, giving me his back. It’s a strong, defined back. One that makes heat pool between my legs, betraying me. He stoops low, picking up a shirt from the ground and slips it over him. Part of me is upset to miss the view of his shirtless body. He stops at the doorway, peeking over the large curve of his shoulder to give me one last look before disappearing upstairs.

  His boots beat against the floor above me and cobwebs, dust, and a little salt fall from above. I take in a much-needed breath and close my eyes, wondering if when I wake up again if this will be a dream.

  But if I wake up and I find myself back in the castle, I’m going to wish this kidnapping with a gorgeous, infuriating man was real. How pathetic is that? Being kidnapped may be better than the reality I was living.

  “Goddess, I’ve gone mad. He has made me a madwoman. Oh!” The ship suddenly rocks, and I have to reach my hand to steady myself against the wall. That’s rough. A little rougher than it was before. The boat settles again, and I take a deep breath, trying to get my stomach to stop turning. I don’t get the chance.

  The boat catapults me to the other side, and I smack my head against the hard wood. The entire cabin violently rocks with the lividity of the waves. I hear the crashing sound of thunder outside and try to stand back up before I slip again.

  “Ouch,” I grimace, touching the back of my throbbing head. I bring my hand in front of my face. Red.

  I rub my fingers together. “That’s blood. That’s my blood.”

  My head spins, and my stomach gets queasy. It’s a struggle, but I finally get to my hands and knees and inhale through my mouth. It’s cut short when the boat flips to the other side. I lose my balance and roll until I’m under the cot and smack my body against the wood again. “Goddess,” I whimper. An ache spreads throughout my entire body. I grip onto the iron cot that’s bolted to the floor and hold on for dear life as a wave aggressively smacks into the side again, lifting up one side of the boat so high that I am now leaning against the wall instead of on the floor.

  “Oh my goddess!” I scream. The boat is nearly tipped over, and I am almost ready to fall down from my position on the floor. “Don’t let go. Don’t let go,” I chant to myself, gripping the iron legs of the cot with every ounce of strength I have, my knuckles white. Another loud crack of thunder booms through the air, and the bullets of rain hit against the side, plummeting the boat along with the raging sea.

  Saltwater is getting in my eyes and mouth. My head throbs, and my wrist is on fire. Just when I think it’s over, another wave slams into the side, and I lose grip on the cot. I’m falling.

  “I got you, darling.” Trident catches me just in time before I hit against the side again.

  “Wha—where did you come from?” I yell, rubbing my hand down my face to get the excess water off. There’s a slight metallic flavor lingering on my tongue, and that’s when I remember my head is bleeding all over my face.

  “Are you hurt? I’m glad I caught you. You’re bleeding,” he touches the wound on my head. “I came as quick as I could. It’s hard walking on the deck in this.”

  I hiss. “Ouch, that hurts.”

  “Sorry. I think it looks worse than it is.” His arms tighten around me when another wave batters us.

  I hate to admit it, but I’ve never felt safer.

  “All we can do is ride out the storm,” he shouts over the plundering sea and rolling thunder.

  “Ride it out?” I scream as another wave hits. Pure fear spreads through me. I’d really like to wake up now. Safe and in my bed.

  “You are safe with me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I got you,” he whispers in my ear, and a sense of peace washes over me.

  It’s a foolish thing to let happen because he doesn’t actually care about me. He only cares to keep me alive as the damn bargaining chip. I don’t want to hope for more, because this is not my dream. This is not how I want my life to change, but being here, tossing and turning in this damned ship, being wrapped up in his strength… I hope.

  Like a damn fool.

  The ship takes a beating, but it barely makes us move, since Trident has such a good grip on me and the beam. I clutch onto him, my blunt nails digging into his skin. They are probably drawing blood, but I can’t look. My eyes are shut tight. If I open them, I’ll see just how much we are rocking and swaying, and I’ll want to throw up more than I already do.

  It gets rougher. The storm howls outside. The gusts of rain and wind combine with the force of the waves crashing against the boat so much that I can’t tell what is what.

  “Hold on,” Trident yells as we turn, and turn, and suddenly, we are upside down, and the cabin is filling full of water.

  I scream and cry, fearing for my life until we are right side up again by some miracle. “Did that just happen? That just happened. We are going to die. Oh my goddess,” I start hyperventilating, gasping for much-needed air little by little.

  “Aye, look at me. Look at me!” he shouts, taking a firm grip of my face. “We are not going to die. Nothing shall happen to us. I won’t let anything happen to you. I got you.”

  “You got me?” I repeat.

  “I got you, darling,” he whispers at the same time something snaps on the upper deck. The beam holding the sail spears through the floor from the top, puncturing the boat all the way through. Wood splinters fly in the air, hitting us in the arms and face.

  Water starts bubbling out of the hole, filling the cabin quickly.

  I’m scared. I’m so afraid of dying like this. My worst fear is drowning. I don’t want to die. I haven’t lived yet. I don’t want to die.

  “Sylvie.”

  I lock eyes with Trident and place my hand against him. “Trident.”

  And the ship smacks against something hard and unforgiving, causing my hand to slip from the
Viking’s wide chest, the ship nearly falling apart at the seams. Somehow, Trident and I become separated, and the ocean steals me from his grasp. The ocean gets darker the further I sink, and the last thing I see is the bottom half of the boat sinking to the bottom.

  Just like me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Trident

  “Sylvie?” I yell and tread water at the same time

  “Sylvie!” I scream, trying to breathe at the same time, but the waves beat me, filling my mouth every time I open it.

  “Damn it. Damn it!” I roar, hitting my fist against the surface, adding to the swirling force of the ocean. I don’t know what happened. One minute, she was driving me mad, and I had to go back upstairs before I did something stupid, like kiss her into silence, but then the storm was far worse than I thought it would be. When I was nearly thrown off the boat from the rocking waves, I knew I had to go downstairs and help her.

  When I saw her hanging on for dear life and blood running down her neck, it scared the hell out of me. I no longer cared about the trade, her life for the family name. I only cared about making sure she was safe, and now she is out floating in the ocean, maybe dead, and now… it’s all my fault.

  I take a deep breath and dive underwater before another wave sucks me under its tendrils. My eyes burn when I open them, the salt stinging, but I have to try. I have to try and find her. Putting my arms in front of me, I spread them to the side and kick my legs at the same time, getting deeper. The water is colder the further I go, wrapping around me, and it only slows me down. My skin freezes. Everything is heavier, but I can’t stop.

  I must find her. I must. I cannot stop.

  My lungs burn, and my head pounds. My brain is telling me that it’s about to explode, but I can’t… damn it! I kick my way up to the surface and take a massive breath in right as a monstrous wave takes me under, flipping and turning me every which way until I’m looking down at the ocean floor.

 

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