One scar across his heart was particularly deep, and she reached out, ran her fingers along it. “What happened?”
“My wife’s brother challenged me.”
She drew back, frowning. “You’re already married?”
“Was married. She’s dead.” He took her fingers in his own and kissed the tips. “Loki was at work in that family, so Odin made me the victor.”
His expression had turned fierce, and she hesitated to provoke him further. His hand went to the oddly shaped cross hanging around his neck on a leather thong. He flipped it over and she realised it wasn’t a cross at all, but a hammer.
“Thor was with me when we fought.” He smiled. “Your priests prefer it when it seems as if we believe the stories of their Christian god. And they seem also to have an unquenchable lust for gold.”
“You do not believe?” Aoife felt for the wooden cross around her neck. She wished once more her own silver one set with amethysts had been with her things from the abbey. Her life for the past two years had centred around her faith exclusively, although much of her treatment had far from endeared her to Christian charity. Still, there was a part of her which believed.
He shrugged. “I have seen little evidence to prove their stories. And his protection seems to be worth little.”
“But—”
“Shh, we will speak no more of this. You may believe what you wish, worship as you wish. As long as you fulfil your duties as my wife, I will not interfere. Together, we will build a strong village here. For everyone.”
“And if I cannot fulfil my duties as a wife?” She glanced away from him. What if she couldn’t have children? What if, like her own mother and stepmother, she bore only daughters?
He smirked. “I think you will find my needs surprisingly simple.”
“But—”
He placed a finger on her mouth and shook his head, then reached for the ties holding her dress closed. Without taking his eyes from her face, he loosened them. He tugged on the cloth, pulling it from her shoulders, then slowly down her arms, baring her to his gaze.
She closed her eyes and bit her lip, then realised he had stopped. Had she displeased him in some way? Did he not like what he saw?
Fear crept into her thoughts once more, despite the warmth and comfort his touch provided. She opened her eyes and saw anger on his face.
“Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice tight.
“One of the brothers, at the abbey.” Her voice trembled as she spoke. What if he questioned her in more detail? Could she lie to him?
“Why?”
“I was… I was unwell.”
“If I see the man who did this to you, tell me, and I will kill him,” he promised.
“They thought they were helping me, beating the demons from my body. My family requested it when they sent me to the abbey.”
He stared at her so intently she couldn’t look away, no matter how much she wanted to. “Demons?”
Her breath caught in her throat. Why had she said that? She should have stuck to her story about being sick. Although neither was a lie, she feared what he would do to her if he discovered why her family worried about demons in her.
“My family thought… thought that the sickness was caused by demons.”
“The demons lie in those who would do this. This is how you treat a slave, not a free woman, the daughter of a lord. This will not be allowed to happen again — I promise you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
After a pause, he kissed her. His mouth was gentle and moved slowly over her own. His tongue prised open her lips and swept inside. After her initial surprise faded, she began to return his movements and found every touch, every stroke, was sending delicious shivers throughout her body. This must be the start of the pleasure which he had told her about. She sighed and moved closer to him, surrendering herself to the sensations and trying to block out her fears.
He cupped her breast. The rough skin of his fingers rubbed across her nipple and she gasped. When he pulled her dress lower, set his mouth there and suckled, her fears about their coupling began to slip away.
Chapter Ten
