How could she share such an intimate moment with a man and not have it change anything? How could she forget what he had confided in her? What they had done under the cover of darkness? She knew how his most intimate part tasted, he knew how her body felt when she spasmed in pleasure, they’d heard each other’s lewdest moans. She wasn’t sure anything would ever be the same between them again, or even that she wanted it.
Aife cleared her throat. Lost in shameful musings for a moment, she had forgotten that Sven was waiting for an answer.
“I’ll be fine, thank you. You’re probably busy anyway,” she answered, barely believing what she was saying. Was she really turning him down? Yes, apparently. “Weren’t you and Freydis?—”
“Freydis is gone.” Sven’s jaw clenched, his displeasure evident. “She’s gone back to her village to prepare.”
“Prepare?” For what? Not her wedding to another man, surely? Was that why he looked so angry? Had he found out that the woman he’d been bedding was set to marry another?
“She intends to leave this country, go and live in Denmark, in the village where her parents were born,” he told her in a burst of anger. “Just like Hedda, her decision was made years ago and yet, unlike your sister, she kept it a secret, allowing everyone to believe she intended to settle here. She is leaving in less than a week’s time on a ship of Danish merchants who agreed to take her, and she didn’t ever think to tell me as much when I started seeing her.”
In an uncharacteristic gesture of powerlessness, he ran a hand through his unbraided hair and grimaced. In that moment he didn’t look half as self-assured as usual, or arrogant in the least but almost vulnerable. It was rather odd, a side of him she was certain not many people had seen. She certainly had not. He had always been all about confidence.
“I see,” she said, feeling rather at a loss. Had he been playing a role all this time?
Sven gave a scoff. “I really liked her. I thought we would have the opportunity to…you know, get to know one another better.”
This was turning into the strangest conversation. Aife wasn’t sure what to say or think. She had always assumed that Sven would be the one to put an end to his dalliances when it suited him, not the other way around. She had also assumed that he had little or no interest in getting to know the women he bedded. Now she was finding out that he was not immune to doubt, that he, too, could feel the pain of rejection and wish for more than afiery night or two in a woman’s arms. Apparently, he would have liked to see where things could go with Freydis, he had taken their relationship more seriously than she had. From someone who wasn’t supposed to want to settle, it was unexpected to say the least.
“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “She should have been more honest with you.”
What was happening? A few weeks ago, she would never have believed she would feel sorry the woman was gone or that she wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to make the most of this turn of events. But here she was, feeling sorry that his lover had abandoned him, and refusing his offer of an escort. If that didn’t prove that what she had felt for Sven had been nothing more than a shallow infatuation, then nothing did. Arms still crossed over his chest, he was looking at her intently. The position emphasised his impressive strength. His body was decidedly more muscular than his brother’s but she found that she actually preferred the leaner?—
Stop! She chided herself. She had to stop comparing him to Torsten at every turn. She was not comparing him to Steinar, was she, though everyone would agree he was the brother who looked like him the most? So why was she looking at Sven and thinking only of Torsten?
Her heart sank. Because if she were honest, she would admit that she had thought about Torsten a lot these last three days. In many ways, none of them suitable.
“You know,” Sven told her suddenly, “You look different. Have you bought a new gown? Started to braid your hair differently?”
“No.”
He cocked his head to one side—the gesture reminiscent of his brother. Aife mentally kicked herself. Here she was again, comparing the two men.
“Well, whatever it is you’ve done, it suits you. You’re glowing.”
Glowing? Oh, wonderful. He was finally taking an interest in her, right when she had accepted that nothing would happen between them and didn’t even mind.
She gave him a swift smile, not knowing how to deal with this new development. “I’d better go. I don’t want to miss the low tide.”
Aife headed toward the horses, shaking her head in disbelief. Would she not come to regret refusing this chance to see if she could woo Sven after all? Perhaps. But it would have felt too odd to try.
It had taken time, but she had at last accepted that Sven would only ever be a friend.
She placed her forehead against Imp’s shoulder, in search of comfort. The family horse was getting old and for that reason she usually chose another mount, but today she needed his reassuring presence. After one last hug, she headed to the shed at the edge of the field to get the saddle. It was time to go.
“Going anywhere?”
Oh dear. The same question, asked in a rich, deep voice, just as before. Only this time her insides did ripple, her loins did definitely heat up. Everything that should have happened with Sven but hadn’t, happened with Torsten. To hide her turmoil, she started to walk faster.
“Yes, if you must know, I woke up this morning in the mood for cock—” Just then she tripped on a root.
Torsten caught her by the elbow before she could fall flat on her face and kept her steady, his gaze planted into her. Then he lowered his head to speak in her ear.
“Could you say that again?” His voice had gone impossibly gravelly. “I think I might have misunderstood.”
“—les,” she finished the word in a panic, realizing what her sentence would have sounded like. “Cockles. The shellfish. To eat, you know. I mean…”
“Yes. I know perfectly well what you mean. Cock—les,” Torsten repeated, stopping half-way through the word like she had. “I see. That makes more sense. They’re your favorite, are they not?
