Hagen said, “If she hasn’t awakened then this is a perfect time to go. She’ll never miss you. Many people with bumps on their head sleep for a few days. We’ll have you back in two days. Magni will tell her where you went.”
“I’m sorry, Hagen, but I’m not going.”
Hagen settled his hands on his hips. “You never intended to go, did you?”
“I might have, but surely not with Hildi still sickly.”
Jowell said, “We’ll wait for you in the boat, Hagen.” He and Paden disappeared toward shore.
“You lied to me.”
She didn’t like that comment, even if it were true, but she should be used to his overbearing nature at this point. It wasn’t intentional but a slight lie. “Nay, I just forgot to mention that I needed Hildi to be better before I could leave.”
“And if she were better right now, would you leave?”
Now he was just pissing her off, so she might as well tell the truth. If she did, perhaps he’d go home and never return. Her life would be much easier at the abbey if he disappeared. She tipped her head to the side and pursed her lips. “Nay, probably not.”
“Why? Do you have something against me? Or do I just frighten you?”
Hellfire, how had he guessed the truth? But she’d be damned before she’d ever admit the truth to him. He scared the hell out of her because he made her insides do strange things. “I’m not afraid of you.” Another lie.
“Then why won’t you come to Duart Castle?”
“I already told you.”
“Nay, you told me a lie. But the truth is you’ll never come. Why? You at least owe me that much.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
“We risked life and limb following you to Ulva. And then to Tiree. And you don’t appreciate any of it. You called me spoiled and a fool, but how are you acting now?”
She didn’t know how to argue that, so she resorted to what she did know. “May a venomous viper come through your walls this eve and bite your toes off.”
He snorted. “Norse cursing. I can’t believe you’re resorting to that instead of telling the truth.”
“May a pus-headed toad climb inside your breeches and die.”
He shook his head and moved two steps closer. “You are afraid of me, but not for a reason others would suspect. You’re afraid of how I make you feel.”
“May the shite of four score birds land on your head on your journey back.”
Brynja wished to step back because he was too close. His heat caused her warmth to increase. She could feel the sweat between her breasts, an odd tingling between her legs, feel theincrease of her pounding heart. It wasn’t just that she was afraid of him. Going to Tiree brought too many memories back. The murder of her mother, the stealing away of her and her friend, the situation of being at the mercy of evil men was fresh in her mind now.
He stepped close enough that if she reached out, she could take his hand in hers. But he changed tactics, and that bothered her more than anything. It was as if he could read her mind.
“Who hurt you?” he whispered.
She shook her head, fighting the tears—of exhaustion, of exhilaration, of fear of losing her friend. “May a dung-spattered cur seek out your mother.”
“Who? Give me a name and I’ll make sure you never have to fear him again.” His fingertips traced her jawline with a touch as soft as the fur of a red squirrel.
“My father, for one. I was there when he finally returned to Tiree and asked my mother if I was a lad or a lassie.”
“And?”
Her words came out in a yell that she hadn’t intended. “And he said he wanted no part of a lass.”
“And if you’d been a lad?”
