“It’s not the same. Her spirit roams freely here and if I am gone, who will look after her?”
He believed her. Who was he to deny the existence of a loved one’s ghost? Norse believed in many things they couldn’t see or explain.
“And to hell with you, or whatever the equivalent is in your religion if you don’t like it!”
He looked at her.
“Please,” she begged. “Just leave me alone.”
Randvior shook his head.Impossible.By Odin, there were instances when a man could easily lose control. This might prove such a circumstance if he didn’t get her out of the cellar. The flickering light reflected hauntingly in her cloudy eyes. Tempted him… Made him burn insatiably for just a brief taste of those sweet lips.
“We’ve tarried long enough.”
He had fulfilled his obligations, spent enough time in this wasteland. The gods increased his wealth. The only thing left was to go home—back to the Trondelag before ice prevented him from crossing the North Sea.
As if reconciled to her fate, she offered her hands. He reached, but was rewarded with an unforeseen punch to the chest and a kick to the shin. She jumped back and grimaced. Shook her hand out in obvious pain, cursed the chain mail… He eyed the scrapes on her knuckles and drew her in, wrapped his arms around her little frame. Her body fit so nicely against his.
“Let go!” She tried to wiggle free.
No woman had ever resisted his charms before. He held her close, hoping she’d quit struggling. Randvior supported her body with one arm and let his other hand roam freely across her back. She made some funny noises at first, then exhaled, shifted on her feet, and surprisingly laid her head against his chest.
Breathe.
She gazed up at him. Those dark eyes warned him not to push her any further, but she felt so alive in his hands. Hetipped her chin and her eyes fluttered closed. He smiled and slowly touched his lips to hers, then dipped his tongue inside her mouth. He teased her at first, allowing her to make the next move. Then her tongue moved with his, swirling and exploring the depths of his mouth. A branding heat suffused his whole body until his ears burned. But as quickly as she started, she stopped, pushed him away, and stared up at him. Whatever thoughts played in that feminine mind he’d have to worry about later. Willing or not, she was accompanying him, andright now.
He pulled her hard against him again. His hand followed the curve of her spine and cupped her arse. She sputtered and slapped him. Randvior withdrew his hands. And for a brief moment, his rage surged dangerously close to the surface.
“If you were a man…” he growled.
“If I were a man,” she said. “Your hands would have never strayed to my arse, you rutting beast.” She clutched at her breast. “You’d use a woman’s grief as an opportunity to seduce her?”
He laughed. “Min lille dukke, enough nonsense, I’ve no time to play these childish games with you—after we are on my ship, we can play whatever you like.”
Much to his pleasure, she stomped a foot obstinately and made her own growling sound. “My brother told me you intended to make me yourthrallorconcubine.”
Randvior choked back another laugh.A slave—never. His concubine, close enough.“Do you even know what a concubine is?”
“No,” she answered stiffly. “But I know what a thrall is, and I won’t be anyone’s slave!”
Her eyes darted wildly around the room, possibly searching for an escape. He’d better say something to calm her down. “In my homeland there are laws that protect nobles from being enslaved. I would never expose you to such humiliation, even ifyou were a conquest of war. If it eases your conscience, you have my solemn oath. You will never become a slave.”
Her eyes shot daggers as he finished pledging his oath, his hand placed dramatically over his heart.
“And your word is to be trusted? I think not.” She whirled and sprinted for the door.
Before her foot touched the landing, he grabbed a handful of her cloak and pulled her toward him. He was delighted, always enthralled by the prospect of a good chase. But there was no time for that kind of sport right now. Of course, it deserved some consideration later. All patience lost, he spun her around like a child’s top and flung her over his shoulder. She yelled and kicked, cursed as well as any seaman he’d ever met.Light as a feather, he smiled,with lungs as powerful as a screeching banshee’s.
Randvior chose to take the longest route back to the great hall to give Noelle a chance to recover her dignity. As they exited the cellar, the bitter cold overpowered them. She shivered and squeaked hoarsely. If she persisted in screaming, she might lose her voice altogether. Not a bad thing. But if she sucked in too much cold air, she risked catching her death.
He spanked her bottom and gave her a firm shake. “Enough!”
In turn, she slapped at his arms.
“Didn’t you learn the first time that armor scars hands?”
“I’ll risk it again if it means you’ll put me down instead of carrying me around like a sack of turnips!”
He rewarded her with another deep-throated chuckle, which seemed to irritate her even more. Her flailing feet made contact with his chest. Like a fish on a hook, she flopped around until he stopped abruptly.
