“No soft sentiments,” she listed. “Do not spend the night. And I never let a man have power over me.”
The warrior’s thick brows drew together as he considered her words.
“If I’m on top,” Hekla explained, “I’m in control.”
That arrogant smirk was back. “I think we both know you werenotin control?—”
She covered his mouth with her left hand. “Quiet, Fox,” she muttered with amusement. But voicing her rules made a hot, panicky feeling rise within her. She had her rules for more than her personal safety. It was for the preservation of her heart as well. She’d shared too much with this man—had given him too many pieces of herself.
“I should go,” she said, sitting up suddenly.
“Stay,” urged the Fox, fingers circling her left elbow. “Please.”
Hekla closed her eyes. Tried to calm her racing heart. “Ineedto go.”
“What did I say?”
Every muscle in her body wanted to lay back down, to settle against the man’s heated skin. “It’s not you, it’s—” Hekla’s panic sharpened into deadly points, and she whirled on the Fox, lashing out in desperation. “Aren’t you going to ask me about my arm?”
The Fox’s mouth opened, then closed, and for the first time in hours, Hekla felt like she’d gained the upper hand.
“Don’t you want to know what happened to me? Don’t you want to hear how my husband hacked it off with an axe thenleft me to die?”
Hekla flung the words at him, a last frantic attempt to keep him away from her soft, vulnerable heart. She pushed to her feet, not daring to look behind her. Not wanting to see the moment the Fox recoiled like all the others. She snatched her tunic from the chair and scoured the room for her metal arm. She had to get out of here.
But the footfalls on the floorboards stilled her.
The Fox took her wet tunic gently from her and pulled her against his chest. Hekla’s restraint snapped, and she swayed into him, letting him wrap her in a tight embrace.
“Did you kill him?” he asked in a low and dangerous voice.
“Aye,” she barely managed in reply.
“Good.” His voice was rough, but his touch was so gentle, palms smoothing over her damp hair. Hekla reached for her rules, but they were nowhere to be found. The part of her she’d fought so hard to protect was now fully exposed, and she’d never felt so vulnerable in her life.
“I like you, Lynx,” the Fox whispered into her hair. “I like that you say what you think. I admire your spirit. And you might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
A long, shuddering breath fell from Hekla, and this time, she didn’t accuse him of mockery. This time, somehow, she felt it in the marrow of her bones.
“I will ask you one time, but you needn’t answer. You’re in charge.”
Hekla wanted to laugh at the very concept, but she didn’t have the energy.
“What color,” said the Fox, “did you see just now?’
Hekla drew back with an incredulous look. “What?”
“When you found your pleasure. What color did you see?” His eyes were bright, dancing with laughter.
She bit down on her lip, her discomfort giving away to a soft, sultry feeling. “Green,” she admitted, smiling as his grin widened. “With a spiced taste. Something like róa.”
Gods, but she didn’t want to feed this man’s ego, yet she wasgrateful he’d brought them back to common ground. He entwined their fingers and guided her toward the bed.
Hekla could pull her hand free at any time—could retrieve her clothing and return to her own chambers. Yet she found herself following the Fox. Climbing onto the bed. Curling up against his side.
Only for a minute, she told herself.
“Since you shared arealtruth with me, I ought to share mine with you.”
