He took her hand and, seeing that she didn’t seem brave enough to take it, placed the comb into her palm. She turned it this way and that, examining it.
“Is that a woman?” she asked, awe in her voice.
“Yes. Or rather, it’s a female elf. Alva means elf in Norse, so I thought it—” He stopped, remembering how she always insisted that it was not her name, that he should call her something else. “I know you don’t want me to call you Alva, so perhaps I shouldhave asked Torsten to carve something else. I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
Eahlswith cleared her throat. Her chest had gone too tight for comfort but she forced herself to talk, and reassure Sven because he looked like someone who thought he had made a terrible mistake.I didn’t think, he’d said. But she knew that the opposite was actually true. He’d thought long and hard about how a comb destined to her should be decorated to make it meaningful and he’d found the perfect answer.
“Thank you. I love it as it is, with the elf.” Closing her fist around it, she brought it to her heart. It was perfect. Perfect for them.
How much she had hurt him, she realized, by asking him why he had come. It was as if the light in his eyes had been snuffed out. It was time to stop being silly and give herself another chance at happiness. She was only five-and-twenty, she could not realistically spend the rest of her life alone.
In her house right now was a man who wanted her, who wanted to see where things could go between them, a man she wanted as well. Edwin had once been the man she wanted, the man she should have married, the man she loved but he was dead. She was not. Wasn’t it time she started to live again?
Yes. If living meant being with Sven.
He wanted commitment, he loved children, he gave her thoughtful gifts, he made her laugh, he lived in a place where she would be happy, he was ready to love and protect her, he knew how to give her body and her soul what they needed. The list went on and on. Why was she even hesitating?
Eahlswith went to the window and took in a deep inhale. It was time to let go. Edwin had been a good man, she knew he would have wanted her to be with someone who was so determined to be with her, someone who bestowed beautifulgifts on her, someone who listened to her without judging, someone who wrenched indescribable pleasure out of her.
Someone who wanted to give her a special name.
Someone like Sven.
“It’s snowing again,” she observed quietly. Would he understand what she was hinting at? He could not ride back to the village in this weather. “It will not be pleasant to be outside.”
She had barely finished her sentence than two hands closed around her waist and two arms drew her against a strong chest.
“No. Let’s get to bed, then, shall we?”
Eahlswith could not repress a smile. Not only had he understood the hint, but he had jumped on the opportunity she was offering. This was her fierce warrior, unashamed of his desire and refusing to be denied the opportunity to give her what she needed. What they both needed.
“Yes. Let’s go to bed.”
No sooner had she given her agreement than he swept her feet from under her and started to carry her to the pallet in the corner of the room.
“Put me down!” she protested. “I’m not really an elf, despite what you say.”
“We’ve already had that discussion once, I believe. I refuse to have it a second time. especially now, when I’m barely hanging on to my control. I’m carrying you to the bed, and that’s all there is to it.” He gave her a truly wicked smile. “Or would you like me to pin you against the wall again and make you forget your ridiculous notions of being too heavy?”
It did sound tempting but no, not today.
For now she had other ideas.
Sven almost lost his seed when Eahlswith bit her bottom lip and shot him a lethal look from under her sooty lashes. That look told him she had an idea in mind, an idea he already knew hewould love. Good, for he had never been that hard. Or rather, it had never hurt that much. Or…something.
All he knew was that from the moment the light in Eahlswith’s eyes had changed and he’d understood she would welcome him back into her bed, if not into her life just yet, he’d not been able to think. Tonight would be like none of the other nights they had shared. He would not just take her body, he would make sure to take possession of her soul in the same way as she had taken possession of his.
He made to deposit her on the pallet of furs, like a precious gem in its nest of furs but a hand on his chest stopped him
“No. Not here,” she surprised him by saying.
“Where then?”
Surely she didn’t want to go outside, in the street and in the snow? He would not have her body exposed to people’s curiosity or her skin to the cold for the world. Or perhaps she wanted to be seated on the table so he could lick her like he had done that first night? If that were the case, he would be only too happy to comply.
“There is a little storeroom there, through this door,” she said, nodding to the other end of the room.
A storeroom? Well, why not? As long as he could have her.
