“There never was a child,” he admitted. “She believed there was, but it was a mistake.”
In his voice, she heard a trace of regret, almost as if he wished the child had come to be. “Please, let me down,” Caragh repeated.
He did, but he didn’t release her wrists. His grip was firm enough to remind her that he wasn’t going to let go.
“What do you want from me?” she asked quietly. “Why did you come back?”
He took her face between his hands and kissed her hard. His hands tangled in her long hair, pulling her to him as he coaxed her mouth. The familiar rush poured through her with awakening desire. And though she accepted his kiss, she didn’t return it.
“You’re angry,” he murmured against her mouth.
“You can’t believe that I’ll let you come from another woman’s bed into mine.” She turned her face from him, hiding the hurt within.
“I never lay with her. Nor did I touch her.”
Caragh shook her head. “It’s too soon, Styr.” To her embarrassment, the weeks of hurt welled up within her, and she blurted out, “You had no choice, I know. But I don’t want my heart to bleed like that a second time.”
“It won’t,” he swore. “I don’t intend to leave you again.”
His intense gaze reached inside her, pushing back against the barriers around her heart.
“I don’t know what’s right anymore,” she admitted. “Perhaps we should be friends for a time,” she offered. “We could get to know one another without…”
“Without Elena between us,” he finished.
She nodded.
A dark expression came over his face, as if he didn’t like the idea of waiting. His hands moved down to the base of her spine,and he remarked, “I won’t be bringing you flowers or trying to win your heart, Caragh.” He reached below her hips, picking her up until her body was flush against his.
“I’m a Norseman. And I take what I want.” To emphasize his words, he kissed her, invading her mouth with his tongue. He ravaged her mouth like the warrior he was, claiming and consuming her until she was breathless. Against her body, she felt the length of his arousal, and it sent a rush of need between her legs.
His mouth traveled down her jaw to the soft part of her throat. “Perhaps you’ll be my prisoner, this time.”
Her mind spun with images of being chained and at his mercy. A sigh escaped her when he lowered her again, sliding her against him.
But she raised her chin and said, “No.” Before he could carry her off again, she pointed a finger to his chest. “I hardly know you. And you know very little about me.”
“You like food,” he offered. “And you’re not fond of sailing.”
“I’m not fond of drowning,” she corrected. She’d learned to overcome her dislike of the water, especially after she’d continued to fish alongside her brothers. Never again would she let her fear prevent them from getting food.
“You like the color blue, and you have a sense of adventure. You like to try new things.” He took her hand in his, and added, “You cheat when we play games.”
“I do not!”
“I saw you move a few pieces when you thought I was distracted.”
He’d seen that? She frowned, but before she could say anything, he finished with, “And you like kissing me.”
“Sometimes,” she admitted.
Styr took her hand in his, leading her up to the open meadow where new sheep grazed upon the tall grasses. “I brought you gifts from Dubh Linn,” he told her.
Caragh tried to keep the interest from her face. She couldn’t let herself be swayed by offerings, but he said, “Come to the boat and I’ll give them to you.”
A sense of warning flared up. “If I go with you now, you’ll steal me away.”
He cocked his head. “Would it be so bad to spend a night with me on the boat, watching the stars?”
