“I was just thinking about last night.”
“Oh.” She lowered her gaze, but he reached for her and helped her up.
Her face had become so familiar to him over the past few months, but now there was something different in her expression. The wariness had gone, replaced by something else. Some other worry. There was so much he wanted to say, but he was unsure how to form those thoughts into words. Perhaps some time alone would help him understand his feelings.
“I am going to get more wood,” he said. “We should make sure we have enough to last us throughout the night.” The cold air and physical exercise would hopefully help with the newly awakened feelings within him. Feelings he had pushed down for too long, thinking that he might fail. What sort of warrior was he who didn’t even try in case he failed? Of course, as a warrior if you tried and failed, then you died and did not have to live with it. With sex, if you tried and failed, there was always a partner to—
He shuddered as his mind flashed back once more to Ingrid’s laughter as she cut him in the cabin. He turned abruptly, but Gemma grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Her concerned face appeared in front of him, no matter which way he turned.
“Whatever you thought of just now, let it go. It is the past. It does not matter here and now. You are alive. You are whole.”
“I am damaged.”
“We are all damaged.”
He hugged her before he grabbed his cloak and headed outside, her words following him despite the closed door. No woman, letalone a princess, would choose a man such as him if there was any other choice – no matter what she said.
He hefted his axe and marched to the woods. It was too much of a temptation to remain in the shieling with her. She was too much of a temptation. Physical activity would help to distract him from thoughts of things he could never have, so he set to work, cutting down a number of large branches and dragging them back to the woodshed next to the shieling. There were still dry logs ready for splitting, but he’d need to replace the larger logs he’d split with fresh ones, and leave them to dry out.
Large flakes of snow began to fall from the heavy, white sky. It would not be long before another blizzard set in. Soon, the sound of the axe hitting the wood echoed dully from the snow-covered mountains surrounding him and for now the air was fresh. The familiar feel of the axe in his hands reassured him, and the regular motions of placing the wood on the block then chopping it relaxed him, made him feel like he was accomplishing something.
He heard a creak and turned to see Gemma’s cloaked figure at the door of the shieling, watching him. He swung the axe. It thudded into the log in front of him, then he lifted it and knocked it until the log split. As he bent to pick up the log to split it further, he wiped the sweat from his brow. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gemma still leaning against the doorway, her gaze never leaving him, and although his skin was mostly covered, he gloried in the feeling of a woman looking at him the way she was at that moment.
He prayed for more snow.
Chapter Sixteen
Gemma watched Arne ashe worked. She’d never doubted his strength, but there was a grace and beauty in his movements few men possessed. She smiled, remembering how he had touched her, how he kissed, but it was the way he looked at her that had seemed to burn through all of her reservations down to her very core. Not that she had reservations about making love to him. No, that was the one thing she was very sure of.
The snow fell faster and faster all around them. Up here on the moors, they were lost in a world of white. No sign of the loch or the mountains. Even the nearby forest was invisible. An occasional bird call sounded from the forest and in the distance, snow slipping from tree branches landed with soft thuds on the ground below. It was as if they were in their own private world, a world where it didn’t matter who they were and where her son was safe. For now, at least.
She knew Arne was aware of her presence. He’d noticed her almost as soon as she’d opened the door. She was surprised he hadn’t sent her back inside immediately — but who would be out in this? He hadn’t acknowledged her in any way, just continued with his steady rhythm of placing, swinging, and splitting the logs into smaller pieces for the fire.
She took a deep breath of the clean, cold air and sighed. It was nearly Imbolc. The green shoots of snowdrops would soonbe pushing up through the snow, and when the snow cleared, they would bloom prettily. She fancied she could smell the new world awakening from this cold, hard, dead one. Why could it not be like that for her?
“You shouldn’t be outside.”
“There’s no one here.”
“The shieling will get cold if you leave the door open.”
She pulled the door closed behind her and took a step towards him. Arne faced her. The axe thudded into the chopping block and he let it go and strode towards her. She breathed in a shallow breath, held it. The expression on his face was set and serious, but when their gazes met, she knew he wanted her. If only they were able to stay here forever, with no one else around to remind them of who they were or to threaten their happiness.
She smiled at him as he approached. Happy—she realised she was actually happy for once—then his lips were on hers and he pressed her back against the door, his body warming her while his kisses aroused her.
“Come into the woodshed.”
She glanced over at it, made a face at how small and dark it was, but he had taken her hand and was towing her towards it.
“Turn around,” he said when she turned to him at the door.
“But—”
“Put your hands on the wall.”
“Why can’t I look—”
“Turn around,” he demanded. It bothered her that he was back to this, not wanting her to see him again, even in the dim light of the woodshed. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Who was she to argue with him? She should respect his choice, whether she thought it was unnecessary or not, and maybe one day he would trust her enough to not care. She didn’t want to prevent herself from getting at least part of what she wanted, so she turned and placed her hands on the cold stone of the wall. He followed closebehind her, blocking the doorway of the tiny building. He lifted her skirts, ran his fingers between her legs, touching her, testing her readiness for him. She moaned at the feelings he was creating in her and tried to turn towards him.
