“Mmm, ye taste even better than I remember.” Olaf tenderly pushed her hair from her face, his eyes taking in all of her. “And what of yer other charms? I am anxious to taste them as well.”
Watching the intimate scene right before his eyes had every fiber of Lachlann’s body taut and ready. But she wasn’t protesting. Or moving out of Olaf’s reach. Or voicing any objection. If anything, she was submitting to his touch, much as she had Lachlann’s. It became difficult to breathe.
Olaf glanced toward them, his scarred face healed well enough that both of his eyes were open now. “Ye have friends, I see.”
“Pilgrims.” She kept her eyes trained on Olaf. “They were just leaving.”
He raised his brow, a skeptical look. “Are ye certain they wouldna care to remain? One of them seems eager to defend ye.”
The man had not missed Lachlann’s ridiculous show of chivalry after all. He took a deep breath to calm his racing thoughts. Ethne obviously had expected Olaf, mayhap even wanted him here. Remaining rigid, it took every ounce of Lachlann’s control and training to give no indication of his inner turmoil while the man held his gaze. Olaf was assessing him. Lachlann had done the same thing many times. Studying a possible opponent, weighing if they were worth the effort, if they required immediate confrontation, or if they were harmless and could be let free as she was suggesting.
When Olaf’s glance moved to Niall, Lachlann saw the spark of recognition, and his gut clenched. A slow smile lit up Olaf’s scarred face, but he called to his friend. “Ciaran!”
His squire, now properly dressed as one, came to stand beside him. “We have met this man before, have we not?”
Ciaran nodded. “We have.”
“I’m having trouble placing him.”
Ciaran crossed his arms about his chest and shook his head. “A minor misunderstanding. Ye handled it well as I recall.”
In a flash of anger, Olaf confronted the young man. “I dinna seek yer council. I want only to remember the incident.”
Clearing his throat, Ciaran kept his ready stance and his eyes on Olaf. “It involved a horse, m’lord. At the fair.”
“Ah, I’m remembering now. He called me a thief?”
“He did not, m’lord. If he had”—Ciaran turned back to Niall and Lachlann—“verily he would be dead now.”
Olaf laughed. A hearty laugh. The laugh of a man without a concern in the world. “Ye have the right of it. Well, no grudge then.” He turned back to Ethne. “I think I’ll have my desserts first. Is there a soft pallet nearby for yer tender arse?”
When he grabbed her bottom and crushed her lower body against him, his men laughed, enjoying the performance. Lachlann did not feel so inclined, his hands fisting so tightly his fingers ached.
“Ye’ve not dallied with another now, have ye?” Olaf tipped his head toward Lachlann. “The pilgrim there? He’d have enjoyed taking ye. Did he try?”
“They canna offer me what ye can.” Ethne shook her head, her nostrils flaring. “Ye have promised to take me away.”
Lachlann’s chest tightened with actual pain as sharp as the piercing of a warrior’s blade.
“Good!” Olaf turned toward his men. “Keep yer weapons on these men. Tie them up if ye’ve a mind to, but take them outside. I’ll decide how to proceed as soon as I’m finished here. The rest of ye can stay or leave. It matters not at all to me.” He turned back to Ethne. “But she may mind. What say ye?”
“I thought… I—”
“Ach, ye thought a gentle taking would be unobserved?” He kissed her soundly on the mouth before continuing. “But that would be up to ye. Give them the silver, and they’ll be too busy counting it.”
When she turned her eyes to Lachlann, he was certain it had not been intended, but he read her as clear as the dark clouds before a storm. Regret. She was sorry for lying about the silver. But Olaf saw it, too, and Lachlann wished she’d not revealed herself.
“What is this?” He shoved her away, and she fell to the ground. “Are ye no longer chaste, ye little whore?”
“I…I am,” she said, brushing off her hands as she stood. “They are men of God. I dinna wish to corrupt them.” She threw herself at Olaf. “Do as ye like with me.”
Olaf’s eyes widened in delight. “Have ye found the silver as ye promised?”
“I have. I have found it.”
“Take them outside.” Olaf tossed the order over his shoulder as Ethne led the way toward the back of the cave.
* * *
