Their eyes locked and the world stopped. For one long heartbeat all he could see was her. Euphoria unlike anything he’d ever known washed over him. He felt suspended, as if he’d come out of himself and been lifted to the highest peak of happiness. Then he flew over the edge, and the world exploded in a burst of sensation and light.
They shattered together, their bodies shuddering in a flush of rolling waves.
He held her close, feeling the frantic race of her heart beating against his, burying his face in the warm silk of her hair, inhaling her soft, feminine scent.
He stayed like that long after it was over, not wanting to break the connection. Not wanting to leave. Not wanting to think.
Only when his breathing had calmed and his legs started to shake did he pull away. The warm places where they’d been joined chilled with the sudden blast of cold night air.
She made a gasp of protest and reached for him. Instinctively. With trust that humbled him. With a fierce swell of protectiveness, he gathered her in his arms, lifted her onto the bed and snuggled in beside her.Just for a moment, he told himself. Giving her the warmth of his body. But instead it was she who warmed him, giving him a sense of contentment he’d never thought possible for a man like him. The responsibilities of his clan and the bleakness of the battlefield seemed very far away.
Smoothing her hair from her face, he caressed her soft cheek with the back of his finger until she fell into a peaceful sleep.
This was different.Shewas different. He’d thought himself not capable of emotion, but she made himfeelsomething. She touched a part of him that had been buried for a very long time, and the realization jarred him.
He felt like a man waging a losing war against an invisible enemy and not sure how to defend himself. But he knew one thing. He was getting too close. Closeness wasn’t for men like him. Emotion was a weakness he could not afford. Too many people were counting on him.
Get it under control. This had to stop.
Christina drifted off to a contended sleep, secure in her husband’s arms, certain that something significant had just occurred. A breakthrough, at last!
No man could look at a woman while making love like that and not feel something for her.
But it seemed as if she’d only just closed her eyes when she was pulled from her sated slumber by her husband’s shifting off the bed. Momentarily disoriented, she rolled over, opening her eyes to candlelight. Not morning.
Tor sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her. A wall of muscle and flesh, but as effective a barrier as stone. He’d already put on hisleineand appeared to be tying the rawhide strings of his soft leather brogues. He was leaving. Again.
She told herself not to overreact, but disappointment curdled in her chest. “You’re leaving,” she said tonelessly.
He turned, giving her a sharp glance over his shoulder. “Go back to sleep, Christina.”
Christina. Not Tina. They were back to polite strangers. A flash of anger bubbled up from the hurt. Apparently, that was how he wanted it except for when they were in bed. But not wanting to appear the demanding bride, she buried the anger and swallowed her pride. “I hoped that you might stay.”
He went completely still for a moment, and then resumed what he was doing without a response. Her heart throbbed in the darkness. Was he that unfeeling, or merely obtuse? Did he not understand that she might wish for more than bedplay?
She wanted to bring a little softness and warmth into his life. It had been so long since he’d had someone to care for him. But he was making it impossible.
When he was done, he stood and turned around to look at her. Nothing in his ice-blue gaze hinted at the closeness they’d just shared. He was all business. Every inch the fearsome, daunting warlord and proud chief.
“I won’t be back for a few days.”
The bottom fell out of her stomach. The coldness of his tone bit into her.Don’t, she told herself, but hot, choking tears sprang to her eyes. Why did he have to act like this? Would it be too hard to give her one little tender look? One nice word to hold on to? Why must he always hold himself apart? The great chief, the great warrior, but what of the man? “Where are you going?”
His jaw clamped down and his mouth tightened. “I do not like being questioned, Christina. As I’ve told you before, I’m attending to clan business. It’s nothing to concern you.”
That was it? That was all the explanation he intended to give her? She knew he didn’t like to be pushed, but she was tired of his secretiveness. She sat up, dragging the sheet up to cover her nakedness. His eyes dipped anyway, lingering for a moment on the round rise of flesh visible above the sheet. But right now the flare of lust only angered her. She wanted more. Her fists balled in the sheets. “You won’t even tell me where you are going? Does a wife not have a right to know where her husband goes when he leaves her for days on end without explanation?”
“Nay, she does not,” he said harshly.
Her eyes widened in shock, getting her first personal glimpse of the cold ruthlessness that made him a vaunted chief and feared warrior.
“You are making something out of nothing,” he assuaged, as if he were speaking to a child. “There is nothing to tell.”
The condescension in his tone stung. She was a plaything, not worthy of his confidences. Apparently, deciding he was done with her, he turned to leave, his back hard and unyielding. Hurt, angry, and confused, she couldn’t stop herself from blurting shrilly, “Is Lady Janet going?”
He stopped in his tracks and then turned toward her slowly, his eyes pinning her. “Why would you ask that?”
Cheeks burning, feeling like muck under his heel, she fought to hold his stare and not to crumple into a ball. “I know who she is,” she said boldly, lifting her chin and daring him to deny it. “I couldn’t help but notice how she is often gone as well.”
