Perhaps if she confessed, explained why she chose to wear the dress and flirt with another man, it would put an end to this misunderstanding. Surely, he couldn’t blame her. Self-preservation demanded action, nothing more. Rage uncoiled inside her, too. Lauga acted the cold-blooded bitch at every turn and Randvior continuously isolated her. The indomitable Viking never provided her a means to keep her mind or hands occupied. She felt useless. Bravely, she stepped out and went his way. Randvior’s eyes swelled from silvery half-moons to spitting flames.
The truth must be revealed, and now.
“Before you punish me,” she said, attempting to take control of the situation. “Answer one question. What do you want from me?”
His body shook convulsively as he laughed. Rage and bitterness distorted his face. He glanced over his shoulder at his rival, who remained unconscious on the floor.
“Answer me!” she demanded.
He fanned his fingers and cracked his knuckles. His usually bright eyes were lackluster and red. Her fascination with him deepened because of his fierce possessiveness of her. But she deserved to hear himexpresshis feelings; at least hear what he wanted.
“Tell me or I’ll be forced to take matters into my own hands. The good Lord doesn’t cease his labors above to give a man time to catch his breath to muster the courage to speak plainly with a lady. Much time has been wasted—on both of us.”
Randvior resumed his preoccupation with his hands.
“Tell me!” She jabbed a finger in his chest.
He trapped her arms.“Tell you?”he repeated incredulously. His voice fell to a whisper. “Perplexing wench.” He looked at his hands, then straight back at her. “Making demands of me when it isIwho should make them. See the damage you’ve reaped by taking matters into your own hands—attracting the attention of a man who risked his life by following you into the shadows.” He dug his fingernails into her tender flesh. “I’ll answer, but I warn that you may not like what I have to say.”
“Tell me.”
He shook his head, burdened by something she didn’t understand. “First, you’re confined to your rooms after the feast. Your quick departure has sparked a new round of damaging gossip. Do you know how many throats I’d have to cut to stop wagging tongues from weaving wicked lies about youthroughout the Trondelag? I haven’t the time or resources to do it. But considerthiswhile you stew in your icy pot. It has been my intention, since the moment I set eyes on you in Durham, to bring you home as my bride.”
Her heart liquefied.By Jesus, what have I done?
“Youwillyield to me.”
Her heart fluttered as his hands locked around her waist like a tight chain.
“I want you, goddamn it,” he lowered his mouth and kissed her violently. “And by Odin, I’ll have you.”
He raked his lips across her tender mouth.
Forgive me,she thought.
They returned to the hall and Randvior escorted her to her seat. “Stay here.”
“No.” He still hadn’t convinced her of anything. “I find my circumstances too awkward to bear.”
The creases around Randvior’s mouth deepened. “What is this about, Noelle? Are you purposely challenging my authority to prove something to my guests?”
“This isn’t about you.” Noelle stood. “It’s about honor—my honor.” In a huff of tears, Noelle ran upstairs.
Chapter Thirteen
Odin’s Altar
Randvior watched herclimatic retreat, along with his guests. What else did she want? Hadn’t he made his feelings remarkably clear? He’d admitted his desire for her from the moment he’d set eyes upon her. Flippant female, she goaded the devil playing around with Sveinn in the great hall. Even worse, she was prone to disobedience and emotional outbursts, had complete disregard for protocol, and no respect for her elders. And now everyone knew how undisciplined his little vixen truly was.
But in truth, Noelle wreaked havoc on his heart. She infuriated, delighted, and branded the deepest regions of his soul in the process.
By Odin, he loved her. Everything inside him went hot and still.
He swallowed a bit of wine before he stalked upstairs. Her door sat ajar and he went inside. The sound of her tears stabbed him. He squinted and had the misfortune of imagining Sveinn’s hands all over her body. With this agonizing picture inside his head, it was hard to control himself. He swaggered closer, more intoxicated by bitterness than spirits.
If he must choose—here and now—he knew she was constituted of the most charitable nature and loyalty he’d ever seen in a woman. And those damnable eyes ignited his libido in a second. Her slow smile rivaled the glory of any sunrise.And those delicate colored cheeks and lips begged for an endless supply of kisses. She breathed sensuality, intentionally or not. And that arse, the gods cracked the mold. She rolled onto her side.
He cursed himself for being an infernal beast.
