Aife’s heart fell to the bottom of her stomach when Sven strode away in the direction of the well without waiting for their answer. A word. Was that what he wanted them to believe, that he meant totalkto Freydis? She exchanged a quick glance with Torsten, who appeared just as dubious as she was. Indeed fora moment it appeared as if he would call his brother back, but Sven had already forgotten about them; his attention was wholly on the blonde woman sitting on the bench in the shade of the massive oak.
The woman he wanted to seduce.
This was hopeless. She might well make him laugh with her stories, but he was not interested in making her his, like he was with Freydis. Why? She couldn’t understand. It was not as if he only liked buxom or tall women, Over the years she had seen him with lovers of all shapes, sizes, and even ages. Freydis herself was on the slender side, and her bosom was no bigger than hers was. So why was he not looking at her in the same heated way? What was wrong with her?
“If you’ll excuse me as well, I have nails to retrieve from Magnus,” Torsten mumbled, clearly aware her thoughts had scattered now that Sven was no longer with them.
Guilt sliced through her. She hadn’t meant to make him feel inadequate or boring. Just because she felt transparent and unimportant didn’t mean she should make him feel the same way. He was a good friend, one of the best men she knew and…well, he looked different that morning.
“Are you all right?” she asked, her attention wholly back on him.
Sven had been right, he looked preoccupied, for want of a better word, and she wondered if something had upset him. Had he heard whispers about his supposed lack of virility? Was that what the matter was? Had Gudrun started to repeat what Sigrid had told her? Her heart went out to him. It would be awful if that were the case. She still had no idea if she should believe the story of him being unable to bed the woman from the other village, but she hated that it could hurt him.
“I’ll be all right,” he said, sounding rather dejected.
“Can I help in any way?”
He stared at her but didn’t answer. Just then in the corner of her eye she saw Sven and Freydis stand up from the bench. In a moment they would be gone, and she had no illusion as to where they were going, or rather what they would be doing once they got there.
She threw herself into Torsten’s arms before she could think.
“Kiss me,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He didn’t move, only blinked, his disbelief obvious. No wonder. Barely a moment ago she’d asked how she could help him overcome his dejection. It would look as if she thought she could simply kiss it away, a ridiculous proposition, admittedly. But it was too late to back down now. In the distance, Freydis laughed.
Aife acted on instinct.
Lifting herself onto her tiptoes, she placed her lips on Torsten’s mouth. He froze and for a few heartbeats they remained glued to one another, eyes open wide in disbelief. Then something totally unexpected happened. What had been meant to be a mere touching of lips, a way to show Sven that she, too, could be kissed, turned into something wild and utterly out of her control. All it took to spark the change was for Torsten’s hands to close around her waist.
Instantly, Aife melted.
Her eyes closed, her lower body pressed itself against his, her fingers wove themselves into his hair and her tongue darted out of her mouth, coming to tease the corner of his. As if he’d been expecting her to do that, he opened for her, and his taste, spicy and masculine, hit her with the force of a wave crashing ashore. A groan escaped her throat. She hadn’t imagined for a moment that he would taste so irresistible, smell so alluring, or feel so perfect against her. Kissing an old friend should feel weird, not familiar, and kissing someone by surprise should be awkward, not arousing. And yet… And yet being in Torsten’s arms felt asnatural as breathing, and the feel of his lips on hers stirred a dark desire in an unsuspected part of her, one buried deep in her soul.
Why was that?
She’d only meant for the kiss to last long enough for Sven to see them before leaving, but she ended up forgetting everything and making the most of the incredible moment. Because it was incredible. This kiss was unlike any she had ever shared, and the feelings it provoked inside her were completely new. Though Aife was not as experienced as she would have liked, she was not completely innocent either. As a young girl, she had kissed a handful of village boys. Recently, as she’d grown more selective, such opportunities had become rarer. She just hadn’t seen the point.
What was certain was that none of the kisses she’d received had felt half as decadent or as…meant to be.
The ground under her feet became unstable, so much so that Torsten had to lean her again the back of the forge to steady her. He did so effortlessly, without breaking the contact of their lips. Aife moaned her appreciation, savoring his confidence as well as his honeyed taste. Who would have thought Torsten would be so manly? So delicious?
Eventually, she forced herself to draw away. When she finally dared to look at Torsten, his deep brown eyes were swirling in a mixture of emotions amongst which she recognized desire, confusion, and anger. Oh, what had she done? She had kissed someone she was not interested in wooing and who felt nothing for her other than friendship.
She had kissed one brother when she wanted another one.
It had been a stupid thing to do, but for a moment she had been blinded by jealousy and resentment, unable to think. Sven had been talking to her, enjoying her story and laughing, looking at her with his amazing blue eyes. It had been perfect. And yet assoon as Freydis had arrived, he’d forgotten about her and rushed to the wretched woman’s side. This was clear proof that she was a friend to him, nothing more, someone he didn’t have to worry about pleasing, someone whose feelings he didn’t need to spare. Well perhaps he would take an interest in her as a woman if he saw that others did. Weren’t men competitive and inclined to jealousy? He had dismissed her to go to Freydis, and she had wanted to make him see that she didn’t mind, because she had her own man. For weeks she had tried to make Sven see her differently and it hadn’t worked.
It was time to try something new.
“What was that?” Torsten’s voice was hoarse, and no wonder. If she, who had initiated what looked like a seduction, didn’t quite understand the desire flooding her as soon as their lips had touched or couldn’t make sense of the sensations the kiss had provoked in her, he would be utterly baffled.
“I don’t know. Forgive me, I just…wanted to kiss you.” That wasn’t a lie even if, admittedly, she hadn’t wanted to kiss him for the reason women usually kissed men.
They were still pressed close to one another, his hands were still about her waist, keeping her upright against the wall of the forge, for which she was grateful, for her legs didn’t yet feel able to support her. Really, she had been utterly taken by surprise by the intensity of the moment. But how could she not, considering what happened?
Aife swallowed, not having expected that being pressed against Torsten would feel so right. It was as if, physically, they were a perfect fit. Hulking men were all very well and good to look at from a distance, but Aife was only a short woman, and rather slender. It didn’t take a lot to make her feel uncomfortable. In fact, when she stood next to Sven, she often thought that they would appear ridiculous to onlookers. Torsten, by contrast, was masculine without being overpowering, strongenough to make her feel feminine, but not overwhelmed. He also looked…well, impossibly handsome, she now realized.
Had his jaw always been so strong? His lips so full? His eyes so fascinating? From close-up she could see that they were not just brown, as she’d always thought. There was a whole range of emotions swirling underneath the surface, like clouds gathering before a storm. The blue eyes she was used to gazing into, living as she did in a Norse community, seemed flatter somehow, less mysterious.
