In fact, he made his physical presence quite known by claiming her hand. His thumb massaged the soft flesh between her index finger and thumb. She shut her eyes. First contact made her dizzy. In the span of only one night, she had experienced so many emotions, despised him, pitied him, and now, wanted him. Holy Mother of Christ… why was she doing this to herself?Wretched sinner.
“Look at me.”
Rachelle preferred to keep some pretense of control. Although it would only deepen the misery in her mind, she opened her eyes. Bright-as-day moonlight reflected in his green eyes.
Their lips met after he tilted her chin upward. Her lips naturally parted under the influence of his soft, persuasivekisses. He took full advantage and gently sucked on her tongue. It lit the very depths of her soul. She responded by moving her tongue with his. He groaned. The sound both frightened and hypnotized her. She rested her hands on his strong arms. Then something happened—he transformed into the barbarian she imagined him to be. Tyr clamped onto her hips and slammed his body against hers. The force of the collision made her squeak.
With his body as rigid as an oak tree, his hands invaded her bodice.
She tried to back away.
“No,” he growled.
She succumbed to his relentless touch. And truth be told, shamelessly welcomed it. Something incredible uncoiled inside her belly. Liquid heat spread from her toes to the tips of her aching breasts. She threaded her fingers through his long hair, not wanting him to stop. This timeshetugged him closer. Her selfish appetite surprised her. With his powerful arms enshrouding her like a cloak, she felt infinitely bolder. When he began savagely groping, a warning sounded inside her head. Her tiny scream stopped him.
“I’m not a gentle man,” he mumbled against her lips.
He covered her right hand with his, guiding it between his legs.
She instinctively cupped his groin.
“I crave more than virginal kisses.”
The rock hard lump convinced her of it. Shocked and ashamed, she yanked her hand away. She shook it out as if his manhood had branded her and scowled at his raucous laughter.
“What did you think you’d find down there?”
His sarcasm broke the spell. She must be beyond the grace of God for ever letting this man near her. She’d been made a fool of, by her own lapse in judgment. Giving into such shameful desires showed how stupid she was. She couldn’t trust herself anymore.
Daylight loomed and she whispered a word of gratitude for it.
“Damn my misfortune.” Without another word, he swept her off her feet.
He carried her to the horse, then pushed her onto the saddle. He mounted behind her. Some things were blessings in disguise. What would have happened if they’d continued exploring each other? Could she have denied him anything? She didn’t want to find out. Tyr jammed his heels into the horse’s flanks. Frustration pumped out of him like smoke.
Their ensuing mad dash across the moors confirmed so much. Tyr had a restless, untamed spirit. Few men wandered this wilderness at night. Ancient legends as revered as biblical parables told of evil spirits roaming the dells. And as resilient as she was to such superstitious drivel, right now, her weary mind nearly convinced her there were indeed strange creatures lurking in the shadows as they galloped by. Finding comfort against Tyr’s broad chest, she managed a weak smile when she felt raindrops falling again. The wind bowed the scraggly trees as he rode harder and faster.
Another silent hour passed, and more important things disrupted her half sleep. His crotch kept brushing against her backside. She wiggled left, then right, to avoid being poked again. Her cheeks heated. Struggling to keep her mind on something else, she couldn’t help remembering how it had felt to touch himthere.
Tyr’s entire bodyburned with insuppressible lust. Another feathery brush of her fingertips would set him on fire. She felt something, too. Her eyes couldn’t lie. Whatever made this tiny girl seek comfort in his arms he couldn’t guess, and didn’t want to. Maybe he should have asked. Regardless, it was impossible to share more. As innocent as she appeared, the girl needed to know what consequences followed heavy caressing and kissing.For this reason, he had acted abominably. Although Rachelle nestled neatly under his chin, he resisted his animal urges.
The constant threat of getting stranded in England cooled his desire. He shared his thoughts so she’d understand. “Everything in my future depends on how quickly I get home. Other men survived this war. Whatever their fates, I need to get back to the Trondelag to prepare my household for the aftermath. Norway will never be the same again.”
“You should have considered that before you attacked.Mylife will never be the same either. Where shall I go?”
Did the girl have anything encouraging to say? Need she constantly remind him of his failures? Her suffering? Memories of the campaigns he’d fought in over the last few weeks played out in his mind. After King Hardrada beleaguered Scarborough and defeated Morcar’s army at Gate Fulford, the king wasn’t satisfied. Obsessed with taking York, he marched deeper into England. The city surrendered to avoid further bloodshed. Never give a warmonger his spoils for free. The thrill of easy victory caused most of the army to abandon providence. Tyr advised them to offer sacrifices to appease the gods—to stay vigilant—a man’s time on earth is as fleeting as a shadow. His warning went unheard.
Tyr’s stomach clenched. Days after occupying York, a great dust cloud had rolled across the plain. Norse sentries sounded the alarm after they’d identified the English king’s Dragon of Wessex and Fighting Man banners. The Norse army hadn’t been prepared. Years of war against Denmark had taught Tyr to heed the lessons of the past. Victory made men slothful.
Soaked with blood and weary to the core, he’d known the battle was over once they lost Stamford Bridge.
That’s when he chose life over death.
Rachelle’s appearance on the battlefield changed everything. It altered his escape plan. Heaving a sigh, he scanned thepredawn sky. Only a couple of hours left until sunrise, enough time to offer the girl what tenderness he could.
Reining to a halt, he dismounted. Rachelle joined him. He’d make no excuses this time. He wanted a last chance to hold her in his arms before they separated. Without giving her a chance to protest, he embraced her. Soft hands wandered up his arms. He gritted his teeth. More than simple attraction existed between them. Blast his weaknesses. Better to jump off the highest mountain than thirst for a Saxon. This woman—angel—temptress—blasted inconvenience—had wormed her way into his mind. He refused to deny himself a moment of real affection and decided to send her away with a lasting impression.
He held her at arm’s length so he could stare into her eyes. “Not all Vikings wish to conquer England. This snake pit is more trouble than it’s worth. My ancestors stripped most of this nation’s wealth a century ago. I don’t know why our princes come back expecting to find something different.”
