He’d let her use him. His body had savored the night of joining with her, feeling her body sheathing him. And yet, there had been no love in it. The act was empty, a means of easing physical desire, but nothing more.
It burned him that he’d sunk to those depths. And although he loved her still, the need to create distance was strong. He needed to separate from her, to start over.
He walked through the city, his hand resting upon his sword hilt as he wandered. He hardly knew where he was going, nor did he care. But no matter how he might try, he couldn’t escape the guilt and frustration inside him.
He hungered for Elena in a way that bordered on madness. It strongly tempted him to take her, to claim her like a prize of war. But he knew better than to believe that she might care for him.
He walked toward the center of the city, but before he made it there, he was stopped by his kinsman Hring.
“Elena sent me to find you. She asked if you would escort her while she’s searching the city.”
Ragnar frowned. What would she be searching for? “Why wouldn’t she ask you?”
His friend shrugged. “I offered, but she said she wanted to speak with you. She told me if you wouldn’t come, she would go alone.”
Ragnar had little desire to talk, but neither did he want Elena exploring dangerous parts of the city. As he walked back with his kinsman, he questioned whether she had told Hring the truth—or whether it was merely an excuse to see him.
His instincts warned him to stay away, but then again, he knew how stubborn Elena could be. If she’d made up her mind to go into the city, then she would do it, with or without him.
He found her inside her home, scrubbing the interior from top to bottom. There was no speck of dirt, save on the hard earthen floor. The coverlet on her bed gave no evidence of the night they’d shared. When he closed the door behind him, she looked up from her work and nearly toppled the bucket of water.
“You startled me.” She set down the cloth she’d been using and dried her hands on her apron. “But I am glad you’re here. I wanted to ask for your help.”
He remained beside the door, waiting for her to speak. She seemed preoccupied, keeping her face turned away from him. No doubt she was having regrets about what had happened last night.
“I started thinking about the Irish children,” she said, her gaze fixed upon the ground. “I know the Danes raided the city severalweeks ago. Many people died in the fires, and I—I wondered about those who were orphaned.”
Already Ragnar could guess what she was proposing. He waited for her to continue, and at last she met his gaze.
“Not everyone has family,” she continued. “I saw a few who appeared half-starving. Someone should take care of them.”
“And you want my help in searching for any abandoned children,” he predicted.
“Yes.” She faced him and in her eyes he saw the concern. “I have nothing to do right now. No one to take care of. No child of my own.”
“Not yet,” he said quietly. Although it was unlikely that she had conceived a child after last night, the possibility was there.
Elena let out a slow breath, color rising in her cheeks. “No. Not yet.” She rubbed her arms, as if she felt a sudden chill. “Are you angry about...what I did?”
Ragnar leaned against the wall and regarded her. “It won’t happen again.” Although the night had brought him unspeakable pleasure, if they became lovers, it would only bring them closer. He didn’t want her trying to replace Styr with him.
Then, too, around Elena, he could hardly control himself. The moment he’d been sheathed inside her, he’d lost sight of all else. The walls could have caught on fire, and he’d have been completely unaware of it. The physical release had been so powerful, he’d been lost in sensations that drowned out his sense of reason.
“I wasn’t using you,” she whispered. “And I spoke the truth when I said I care about what happens to you. We’ve endured too much together.”
He didn’t want her spinning off dreams of the two of them together. “I’m not the man you need, Elena.”
She studied him a moment. “I don’t think you know what you need, Ragnar.”
“And you do?” he prompted.
She reached for a basket, filling it with food and drink, before she hung it over one arm. With a shrug, she said, “I think you’re trying to punish yourself. As though you don’t believe you deserve to be happy.”
He ignored her words, but stood in her path, blocking her way to the door. “I’ll guard you while you search, Elena. But nothing more.”
She held motionless for a long moment, searching his gaze. Then she took his hand in hers and rose up on tiptoe. “For now.”
The light kiss she pressed to his cheek was like a physical brand, and he realized that she’d cast down a challenge of her own.
