Not content with scaring her witless, he hauled her towards him, the covers bunching up between them, as his big body arched over her. He thrust her wrist above her head, his stomach pressing against her belly, as her breasts brushed lightly against his chest. The thin fabric of her shift was not enough to stop the sensation from causing her nipples to tighten with sensitivity. Her heart began to pound and she was ashamed to admit it, but wanton liquid heat pooled between her legs.
‘No. You sleep beside me,always,’ he commanded, the words snarled into her face, and she shrank away from the possessive fury in his eyes. ‘Do not be mistaken,’ he continued, with a hard expression. ‘Iwillbed you. You are my wife and my Queen… Just not tonight. It has been a long day.’
She tried to twist her wrist out of his hold, but unlike before it didn’t budge, and the heat and closeness of his body made her dizzy.
‘And…’ he growled, looking almost feral in the dwindling light of the brazier, ‘I will take you in a bed made for us…thoroughly.’ The final word was spoken like a promise and then, finally, he released her.
Trying to appear unbothered by the easy way in which he had overpowered her with both action and word, she flapped the covers and huffed, doing anything to distract herself from the burning heat and excitement of his touch, until she’d finally settled herself under the bedding.
‘I hope you do not snore. I cannot bear snoring!’ she grumbled before turning away from him.
‘Go to sleep, Skadi.’
She shifted further away, trying to make herself more comfortable without falling off the bed. But she suspected it would take her many hours to relax enough to fall asleep in the company of her enemy. She only hoped her fidgeting disturbed Agnar and he thought better of his command toalwaysshare a bed.
Chapter Twelve
Agnar rose early the next day, as was his habit. He’d slept surprisingly well, a short but deep sleep, despite the murderous woman beside him and the fact he lay in Heimdall’s bed. He supposed the strain of the last few weeks was finally catching up with him.
That it was Heimdall’s bed had not bothered him until Skadi had mentioned it. Which was odd, but he supposed he had not liked to think of her sharing anything with Heimdall, especially in the bedchamber.
Agnar held little value or sentimentality to objects—with the exception of his mother’s wedding ring and his axe. Possessions could easily be lost or broken, attaching meaning to them was ridiculous. But it had obviously bothered Skadi and that had disturbed him far more than the dead man’s bed.
Had she loved Heimdall?
It enraged him to think of her loving Heimdall, of calling out his name in those sheets, or gripping the headboard as she orgasmed beneath his enemy’s touch.
Why would such affection matter to him? The old man was dead. Agnar did not mind that he’d had to agree to Astra as his heir. If bloodlines truly mattered, Sven would never have turned away from him.
Besides, Agnar had made a promise to Skadi’s father when he’d accepted their betrothal,to continue the unbroken line of Thrudheim rulers. Skadi’s family was the beating heart of the kingdom and his duty as Skadi’s husband would be to ensure the next generation to rule Thrudheim was from her bloodline.
Oddly, he remained loyal to that vow, just as he had expected Skadi to remain loyal to their betrothal. Instead, her head had been turned by Heimdall.Was he jealous of a dead man?
Had she loved him? At first, he’d not been sure. Certainly, she had been infatuated with him as a young woman, but he’d hoped things would have changed since, that she would have realised the truth.
Skadi had not shed any tears in his presence over the man and had spoken pragmatically of his demise. But he knew her pride meant a lot to her, so she would be reluctant to show any distress in front of him, or anyone for that matter, he imagined, but did he really know her? He had thought so, but last night’s trick with the poison had made him question his assumptions about her.
Regardless of whether she had loved Heimdall or not, she needed to forget about that serpent-tongued deceiver and look to the future for the good of the kingdom and themselves. Admittedly, his threatening her daughter’s life had not been the most auspicious start to their relationship… But that had been necessary.
In time, Skadi would realise his threats had been nothing more than a pretence.
Today he planned to scrub out every last trace of the man who had stolen his future. Rising from the bed, he dressed quietly. Skadi was snoring lightly, curled up in a ball on the very edge of the bed. It had taken her a long time to fall asleep and for some reason he didn’t like the idea of disturbing her.
Maybe it was because he didn’t wish to fight with her so early in the morning? He snorted with amusement as he tightened the buckle of his belt.
Skadi frowned in her sleep and grumbled before settling down again with a sigh.
She snored…only very lightly, but it still made him chuckle. He was certain she would not thank him for mentioning it. So, of course, at some point he would.
He went over to her table with its lotions, salves, kohl pots and brushes. Feeling like a thief, he quietly opened the jewellery chest and hissed with disapproval at the excess within. Then he reached for her comb and began to run it through his hair. His mother had loved his hair because it had matched her own colouring and, to honour her, he left it long most of the time—at least until it became unbearable.
He dragged her comb through the tangles and then tied up half of it. His hair had mingled with a few strands of hers in the teeth of the comb. Black and white entwined like lovers. He pulled them out and tossed them on the floor, embarrassed that she might realise he had used her things. But his own comb had more missing teeth than an old warrior and he hadn’t had a chance to get another.
* * *
Once he was dressed and ready for the day, he made his way out into the hall. Vali was eating porridge at a nearby bench with the rest of the men. Nobody appeared tired or sick, which meant there’d been little celebration last night after he’d left with Skadi.
He couldn’t blame them—the fact their commander had almost been poisoned to death at his own wedding feast would not fill them with confidence about their victory.
