“Come and stand with me,” she offered, turning to face him. Though she attempted a smile, he saw the rise of anxiety on her face.
Within another day, she would be married to Styr. The thought of it was like a fist squeezing the life from his throat.
“I’m nervous about what will happen on the morrow,” she admitted. “I know that’s foolish, since I’ve known Styr for so many years.” She crossed her arms, rubbing at her shoulders.
“He will make a good husband for you,” Ragnar agreed. His friend was the second-born son of their jarl and would likely become a leader one day. “You’ve nothing to fear.”
She reached for his hand, guiding him along the edge of the lake. Though it was only a gesture of friendship, inviting him to walk with her, the simple touch of her palm upon his was a jolt of fire from their joined hands all the way to his heart.
“I know I should be happy about this marriage,” she said. “He’s handsome, and I do think I love him. But it’s just—” Her words broke off and she shrugged. “He intimidates me.”
Whereas she had never held any such reservations with him. A rise of frustration came forth, for he was a warrior, the same as Styr. He was a stronger fighter now, and he could defeat any enemy with his sword.
“And I don’t intimidate you?” he teased, his voice holding a darker edge.
There was a sudden flush on her cheeks and she averted her gaze. For a brief moment she hesitated, before saying, “Of course not. We’re friends and you would never harm me.”
He drew her to stand before him, his height making it easy to stare down at her. “I can be very intimidating,” he said, leaning even closer.
When Elena had to tilt her head back, she returned an honest smile. “To some.” She rested her palms on his chest and gripped his tunic as she tilted so far back, he had to hold her to keep her from falling.
A slight laugh escaped her before he set her back on her feet. “Styr will take good care of you. Or I’ll kill him.” They continued walking along the edge, until they reached a cluster of large stones surrounding a pool.
“I’ll tell him that,” she teased in return. But there was still a flustered air about her. When she leaned back against one of the stones, she appeared uneasy.
Ragnar came to lean beside her and he stared up at the sky. “There’s something else bothering you.”
She wouldn’t look at him, but agreed, “Yes.”
“Go on, then.” He waited for her to talk to him, though he wasn’t certain he wanted to hear her confession.
She let out a sigh and at last turned to him. “I’m worried I won’t please him. I know he doesn’t feel the same way aboutme.” Her face turned red, and she shook her head. “It’s nothing you can help with.”
“You don’t have to marry him,” he said suddenly.You could marry me. The words were on the edge of his mouth and he bit them back before he could say anything more.
“My father would be furious with me if I didn’t. It’s a strong alliance.”
“And one that doesn’t have to be made through your marriage. Another of your sisters could marry him.”
But Elena shook her head. “No, all the arrangements have been made. My father has spent a great deal of silver on the feast and the celebration. It will happen, whether I’m ready for it or not.”
He reached out to take her hand.Tell her, his conscience urged.Give her the choice instead of remaining silent.
But instead of words, he laced his fingers with hers and moved in front of her. His time was running out. If he said nothing, she would marry his best friend the next day. He was torn between his own desires and what was best for her. She deserved a man of high wealth and social standing. Not someone like him, only good for wielding a sword.
“You always have a choice, Elena.” He released her hands, watching her sea-green eyes. He wanted her to know that he would always be there for her.
The color stole away from her face, but she didn’t take her eyes from his. Her lips parted and he wondered if she would allow him to kiss her. To show her the words he’d buried away behind years of frustration.
Ragnar rested his palms on either side of the stone, giving her every chance to pull away. His heart was quickening within his chest, and her own breathing had grown shorter, as if she were afraid of what there could be between them.
Neither spoke and he sensed that if he made a single move, the moment would shatter.
“Ragnar,” she whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek. The warmth of her fingers pooled inside him, awakening a hunger he’d held back for years. He wanted this woman with every breath that was in him.
“Elena!” came another voice.
The spell was broken immediately, and she pushed him back, moving away from the shelter of the rocks. Ragnar closed his eyes, damning himself for not speaking. The chance was gone now.
