He closed his sultry eyes, and she thought the conversation must be over, until he murmured lazily, ‘Unless you want me to...?’
Embla bit her lip, unsure of what to say. ‘I am not sure.’
His eyes cracked open and his predatory gaze slid towards her. ‘Why? Do you not want me anymore? Did I not please you last night?’
‘You know you did!’ she gasped, but then the truth of her confession made her want to curl up in horrified embarrassment. A hot flush burned her cheeks, and she shook her head. ‘But there could be...consequences.’ She had stumbled over the last word, and frustrated with herself she sat up and added firmly, ‘There could be a baby, and I do not want that.’
‘I thought you liked children?’ he asked with a teasing smile, raising up onto one elbow to see her better. The sight of him moving bare chested only heightened the clawing need and trepidation fighting within her for dominance.
Think clearly!
How many times had she advised women to think of the consequences, whether it be to protect their reputation or to regain their strength between children?
‘I could not stand it...the shame.’ Taking a deep breath she explained, ‘I watched my mother live through years of it. No matter how well we behaved, no matter how hard we worked, or how much time passed, people still judged her harshly. It was why she wanted me to live in Gudvangen, so I would have a fresh start in life.’
To her surprise, he nodded sympathetically. When he spoke next, there was both compassion and a heartfelt promise in his voice. ‘I would marry you. Even if you decided to live with the babe in Gudvangen. There would be no shame for you—I swear it. I may have been banished, but no one would dare to treat you badly—the laws of kinship would not allow it. I would even marry you now, if you wished it. You could be like the summer maiden, living half the year with your people, and spending the autumn and winter months with me.’
Embla blinked in surprise at his offer.
He would marry her?
That alone was astounding, but then he had followed up with the suggestion of her becoming the summer maiden.
It was an old story, and she had heard many different versions of it recounted in Jarl Thorin’s Hall over the years. It was a favourite tale this far north, where winter felt like death and spring offered rebirth and hope. The maiden had fallen in love with a giant who lived beneath the mountain. She was so beautiful that when she left to live with him the plants and flowers died. Fearing the people would starve, she returned and the plants rejoiced. But as she was married, the giant insisted she return to him at least once every year, and so began the cycle of the seasons.
The warmth died in her heart as she realised he might have heard the story from Gertrud.
‘Or not...’ Runar said quietly, staring up at the ceiling, a muscle jumping in his clenched jaw.
‘We said we wouldn’t talk about the future,’ she begged, knowing that she had hurt his feelings by rejecting his offer. But she did not want to split her life in two; she had done that already, and still missed her mother terribly. The truth was no one could truly split their life in half, because one side always won.
He forced a smile, turning to face her with a renewed warmth. ‘You are right. Do not worry about the consequences. I swear I will take steps to ensure a babe will be unlikely.’
Oddly, she felt reassured by his words. There were no herbs in his supplies that warded against pregnancy. But she knew another method a man could use, and she presumed he meant not spilling his seed inside of her. It was one of the ways she and her mother recommended women used to avoid pregnancy so soon after having a babe.
Silence filled the space between them. But it was languid, easy and quiet. She had almost forgotten the point of their conversation until he asked, ‘What would you like me to do to you?’
Embla stared at him in horror. ‘What do you mean? You are the one who came intomybed.’
‘It is my bed, and you have had it long enough.’
‘You said you did not mind the floor!’ she accused, embarrassed that he might think her selfish. She had been a little; she had been waiting for him to tire of sleeping there, and suggest swapping, but he never had.
‘True. Do you want me to sleep on the floor again tonight?’ He sat up, and his hand went to the furs that covered his lower body.
‘No!’ she cried. And then with slightly less panic, she added, ‘Don’t do that. It would be silly, especially after last night.’
Male satisfaction spread across his face as he eased back. ‘If you do want me in your bed...then tell me what you want me to do.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, suddenly breathless.
He curved towards her, his body blocking out the light from the fire, and she sank down into the straw mattress suddenly nervous, but also excited. The pleasure she had felt last night seemed like a small taste of what was to come.
As he stared down at her, his mouth was so close she could feel his breath against her nose.
‘Tell me what you want me to do to you,’ he repeated in a whisper, his voice deliciously husky, reigniting her earlier anticipation. The memory of his hard body rubbing and pressing down against hers filled her mind, and her heart quickened with excitement.
‘But...women don’t...’ She stumbled over her words, unsure of what she was saying or what he was asking of her. He was so close that she could feel the warmth of his skin seeping into her body like a heady ale stealing her good sense.
