Eahlswith crossed her arms over her chest, half amused, half annoyed at his pretense at gratitude. As if she hadn’t realized it had been planned… “You didn’t leave me much choice, did you?”
“No. Can you blame me? After the night we shared back in the summer?”
And just like that the tension between them escalated again. They had enjoyed a respite outside, talking about his horse, but now that they were back behind closed doors, desire flared anew.
“I thank you for repairing Osbert’s roof. It was very kind of you,” she said instead of answering.
He shrugged, as if that were normal. “I already told you. It didn’t cost me much. A day’s work. Well, two, as it turns out.” He winked, confirming her suspicions.
“So you could have done it in one day?” She had thought he could have gone much faster.
“Of course. Mayhap even half a day.”
Should she remonstrate? What would be the point? The man would not be made to feel guilt.
“Now, let me wash the soup stain before it dries,” she said, reaching out for a piece of cloth.
“Do you want me to do that?”
She shook her head in disbelief. Was he really offering to wash her dress? “I’m not washing everything in this weather, as it would take forever to dry. I only mean to rub the stain away for now.”
“Yes. I had guessed as much. And I’m saying I can do that for you.” His eyes darkened as his gaze settled on her bodice. The stain, she now realized, was exactly where her left nipple was. Really, why did she have to be so unlucky? Her mouth went dry because now she was imagining Sven rubbing at her breast with sensual intent.
She’d done the first thing that had come to her mind to interrupt Osbert before he could mention Edwin, but she was now regretting it. Because it was giving Sven wicked ideas. Not that he’d not had them before, she imagined. Or that she had not spent the whole day trying to suppress the same wicked, licentious ideas herself.
To hide the effect his words and heated gaze were having on her, she tried sarcasm. “Carpenter, now washerwoman. Is there anything you can’t do?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
Oh, no. She wasn’t falling into that trap.
“I couldn’t possibly. I don’t know you well enough.”
With those words she turned around and dipped the piece of cloth into the basin on her table. Keeping her back turned to Sven, she started rubbing at the stain as unobtrusively as she could. To her relief, he didn’t snatch the cloth from her hand and take over. Her nipple, however, didn’t seem to have realized nothing wicked was going to happen. It seemed to be on fire, demanding attention. She ruthlessly ignored it.
“Here,” Sven said once she finally turned back to him. “I brought some nuts and dried beef with me, not knowing what the old man would have to offer. Do you want some? Perhaps you’re still hungry, considering we left his house rather precipitously?”
He produced a basket from his saddle bag, a very small, finely-made pot complete with lid. She stared at the object in amazement. It was like the cup he’d given her in his hut the other day, impossibly delicate. Even better, she was at no risk of breaking it.
“Did you make that?”
“No. He gave a wry smile, as if he wished he could say he had. “My brother-in-law, Moon, did. He’s even more talented than his father, who taught him. I, for one, could never master the skill.”
“No, me neither,” she said, helping herself to a piece of dried meat. It was delicious but she didn’t dare ask if he had prepared it himself, in case he had not.
They each finished their piece in silence, then Eahlswith knew she could not stall any longer, and in truth, she was tired. The last few nights, she had been too busy worrying about what she would do when Sven visited to sleep as well she could have. Now that he was actually here, it was as if her body were allowing itself the rest it needed.
“Time to go to bed.” She eyed the corner of the room pensively. What would be the best way to proceed? “Perhaps I could put some furs for you in the?—”
“Don’t even try to pretend we are not going to sleep together,” Sven growled, cutting the air with the flat of his hand.
“We are not,” she replied, ignoring the heat flaring between her legs at his comment—and the gruffness in his voice. My, but the man was temptation personified.
“I meant in the same pallet.” He nodded at the straw mattress she used. “’Tis big enough for two and the only comfortable place in the house.”
It was, especially in a cold house. After what he’d done today and what he would do tomorrow, he needed a comfortable place to rest.
“Very well. But you will keep your hands to yourself,” she warned. “Or else you will find yourself out in the snowy streets.”
