She decided on prudence, saying only, “My nature is skeptical.”
He was not appeased in the least. “Your nature had best include subservience. If ’tis not ingrained, it can and will be taught.”
Every instinct demanded she argue that. Self-preservation cautioned a retreat—halfway.
“The body can, of course, be forced to bend.”
“You think the mind cannot? How long will the mind remain detached when the body can do naught but crawl?”
A very good point, one that had her retreating the rest of the way. Crawl? She shivered with distaste.
Selig smiled to himself when she swung around to give him her back again. She was too easy to defeat. She had pride, but it wasn’t stubborn like what the women in his family possessed. He’d been wrong to think she had Kristen’s spirit. Too bad. He would have liked to see her on her hands and knees, with that glorious mane of hair falling all around her.
Her hair was utterly magnificent unbound, fire-topped gold, abundantly thick, covering every inch of her back just now, and pooling on the floor at her hips. He had been mesmerized by it yesterday, when she had combed it into such luxuriant waves—just as he had been mesmerized by her body when she had stood naked in that tub.
He stiffened with the memory of that. He had assumed, mistakenly, that his hate would make him indifferent to her charms. Mayhap it would have if she didn’t possess so much. Lush, plump breasts thrust high with coral nipples, a narrow, firm waist, slender arms and neck, hips perfect for grasping, and long, long legs.
She was so much taller than the Saxonwenches he had grown accustomed to. He had missed women who weren’t so fragile, women with whom a man didn’t have to be careful of his every caress. She had not Kristen’s large-boned, sturdy strength, yet was there a compact firmness to her body that made the word “delicate” inaccurate.
Even her face, cleaned of its smudges, was more lovely than he had remembered. Gently curved brows, high cheekbones, a short, straight nose, and lips full and inviting. The chin kept her face from being too beautiful, with its strong, arrogant thrust, but the soft azure eyes could make you forget that.
He had been prepared to withstand all temptation. He had not been prepared for sultry eyes, creamy skin glistening with water and soap, and hands moving so sensually over her own curves and hollows.
The vixen. She had stirred his blood apurpose. But even knowing that, he had burned with a need to have her that was stronger than any lust he could remember. Had he been himself, in full strength, he would have acted on that need, and it infuriated him to know that. He had told himselfandher that he would never touch her in that way, but he had counted on revulsion to see it so. Never would he have expected desire to come along instead.
Chapter 23
DAYS PASSED, ROLLINGone into another without incident. Erika’s nervousness and Selig’s constant presence made the time pass swiftly, at least for her. A routine quickly developed. Ivarr would come each morn and again each night to see to her chain. He would unlatch it from the wall, but not from her neck. During the day, it had been suggested she drape it around her throat like a necklace. This she did, since it kept her from tripping on it and, surprisingly, weighed no more than a necklace would.
Kristen seemed to hate those chains more than she did. Twice more she came to argue with Selig about getting rid of them, but he could not be budged.
They are never coming off.
He did not tell his sister that, but Erika could not forget those words and how dejected they made her feel. His mother had also made comment on the chains, not with Kristen’s passion, merely with curiosity. Selig had told her the same thing.
Erika could not accept his edict, not withoutmaking an effort to change it. Her fingertips were constantly sore in her attempt to at least get rid of the chain that locked her to the wall each night. No sooner would the tenderness leave than she would try again, but she never accomplished anything except more soreness.
Even the relief she had felt at being released from the wall during the day did not last long, for as freedom went, she still had none. Eda or Kristen would come by throughout the day to take her to the jakes if needed, but that was the only time she was ever allowed out of Selig’s chamber—and away from his presence. That he was given even less freedom than that by his mother was not the same thing. His confinement to his bed would end just as soon as his strength returned. Hers, if Selig had his way, would not.
She didn’t ask again what was going to be done with her once he had recovered. On the one hand, she welcomed the delay. On the other, she wanted it over so she would have time to recover from whatever tortures he had planned for her before her brother arrived. That was assuming, of course, that a specified amount of pain given her would be enough to satisfy Selig. There was always the possibility that he had infinite pain in mind instead.
She worried about that. She worried over Thurston and his broken arm, wondering who would coddle and love him with her not there to do it. She worried about Turgeis trying something drastic to rescue her and getting captured himself. And she worried that shecould be here for months before Ragnar even learned that she had been taken.
Men would have been sent out to find him, but he had not been going to only one particular place in his search for a wife for himself and a husband for Erika. Guthrum’s court would, of course, be visited. But there had also been mention of the Norwegians in the far north, and the Mercians who still retained some power in the east. Ragnar could indeed be away for several more months.
Conversing with Selig was not her idea of fun. She usually ended up angry, or more frightened. So she never started conversations with him. But at times he spoke to her out of sheer boredom, and a few of those times, he showed her that other side of him, the side all those women who adored him knew quite well.
The man could indeed be charming. He could be entertaining. He could make a woman feel special. And he could catch Erika off guard with a certain tone or look that made her heart beat faster. Fantasies are what a man like him inspired, and when she caught herself having one about him, she almost cried, but not before she imagined what it would feel like to have such powerful arms holding her with infinite care, to know the taste of that sensual mouth, to have those silver eyes tender and filled with desire for her and her alone.
Fortunately, he didn’t show her enough of that other side of him to make her forget the cruel side he seemed to reserve just for her.
After a full sennight had passed, Selig began leaving his bed without his mother’s knowledge. He didn’t go so far as to leave the chamber, but he moved about it to work his muscles. And he would pick up Erika’s chain and lead her around the room with him, using it like a leash.
“Get used to it,” was all he had said to her questioning look the first time he had done it.
“To what?”
He hadn’t answered, even when she had asked again. She supposed he had thought she needed the exercise as much as he. Which was in fact true. All she did was sit in her corner, hour after hour, afraid to make free use of his room without his permission, and loath to ask him for anything.
