Her face lightened with relief. “Would you? I have no idea where to begin, and if you would be able to help...”
A slow smile curled over Ivar’s face. “I would, yes.”
“Thank you,” she breathed, smiling warmly at the man.
Didn’t she understand what was happening? Irritation tensed within him, for Styr knew exactly what Ivar wanted from her. But Caragh seemed innocent of the man’s interest. Or possibly she welcomed it. Tension coiled inside him at the thought. He didn’t want anyone to pursue her or to—
—touch her.
He shut down the thought, feeling as if someone had driven a fist into his stomach. It shouldn’t matter. Caragh was free to make her own choices, and he had no say in them.
Yet jealousy slipped under his skin, digging into his raw mood. He resented the unwanted emotion and tightened the control inside him. There was no reason to be angry with Ivar. The man had done nothing to Caragh, and if she were interested in his advances, why in the name of Thor should he care?
Leave it alone, he warned himself.Think of Elena. Your wife.
But as he shut out the images of Caragh with this man, the memories of his wife that surfaced weren’t the happy ones.
He’d made love to Elena, reaching to pull her warm body against his. He’d wanted her to embrace him, to lie beside him when they both fell asleep. Instead, she’d slid to the farthest side of the bed, never looking at him. Almost as if she were ashamed of what they’d done. Or worse, that she hadn’t enjoyed any of it.
A dark chill centered within his heart, and he'd rolled away from her. “You’re unhappy, aren’t you?”
Her silence was answer enough.
“I’ll make an offering to Freya—” he began, only for her to cut him off.
“It would do no good at all, and you know it. We’ll never have a child.”
He rolled over, staring at her huddled figure. “Don’t. We’ll keep trying.”
“We already try every day,” she complained. “I’m weary of it, Styr. I don’t want to try any more.”
At last, she turned to face him. In the moonlight, he saw the streaks of tears running down her face. “Do you know what it’s like, being the only married woman without a child? Year after year, I see them, and I see their pity.”
“Then we’ll leave. If that’s what you want.”
“I don’t know what I want anymore,” she’d said.
But he’d known the truth. She didn’t wanthimany more. He’d steeled himself against her rejection, hoping that distance and time would solve the rift that had formed.
Perhaps when he found her, she’d be glad to see him. It might heal their problems, giving them a new start. He wanted to believe it.
Styr glanced over at Caragh. In her eyes, he saw the reflection of the woman his wife had once been. Beautiful and alluring, with a glimpse of hope in her eyes.
He wanted to see Elena like this again. No longer living a life where she was tormented by her barrenness. He wanted to see her smile, to see happiness again, instead of failure.
It had grown late, and he needed to send word to Caragh’s brothers. “Might I use one of your thralls to send a message?” he asked Ivar. “One familiar with this city who can find Caragh’s brothers?”
“You could accompany the thrall to locate her brothers,” Ivar suggested to Styr.
In other words, give the man time alone with Caragh.
“What sort of protector would I be, if I did that?” he demanded.
The Norseman shrugged, as if unconcerned. “She knows I will not harm her. Don’t you,kjære?”
“I have known you for only an hour,” she countered. “It is too soon to tell.”
Ivar appeared amused by her response. “So be it, then. I have yet to prove myself to you.” The look in his eyes spoke of a man eager to do so.
