The fine hair on the back of her neck rose. Imagining that overgrown Viking’s hands touching and prodding women’s backsides all night made her angry. Protective, her arse… Prideful. Conceited. Arrogant. That’s what he was. Rounding the corner of the house, Onetooth pointed at the buildings ahead. The moon cast silvery light everywhere. She could clearly see the outline of dozens of outbuildings. Walking past several, they halted in front of a sturdy log structure.
“Where are we?”
“The bathhouse.” Onetooth opened the door. “There are tiled tubs in the back. You’ll find soap and linens inside. I’ll be waiting.”
He shut the door behind her.
Steam rolled through a small opening in the thatched ceiling. She removed her boots. Honey-yellow tiles warmed the pads of her feet. Heat engulfed her. A large fire-pit in the center of the room drew her deeper inside. Tossing her fresh clothes on a nearby bench, she admired everything. Tyr Sigurdsson had a taste for opulence. Squatting, she ran her fingers over the seamless tile work. So beautiful. The ones closest to the fire were hot. Standing, she ambled across the room and found a hot spring. Half expecting a sulfurous odor, she wrinkled her nose,only to find spicy incense filling her nostrils. The gurgling water beckoned her. She momentarily forgot herself and started to disrobe.No one could get by Onetooth. But for modesty’s sake, she scanned the area before letting her shift pool at her feet.
Someone had taken great care in carving smooth, rectangular stairs out of the stone that lined the spring. Timidly, she tested the first step. “Ah…” Nearly melting from the wonderful heat, she braved the second and third until she stood ankle-deep in water.
Incomparable pleasure to anything she could think of. Launching, she submerged herself, resurfacing on the opposite side of the pool. She paddled and kicked until she was too tired to move. Returning to the steps, she reclined on the bottom one, letting her head fall back against the ledge. The water soothed her tight muscles. Her imprisonment and unknown future might seem like a nightmare, but this single place offered relief. She relaxed and let out a deep sigh.
The echo of a slamming door startled her upright.
The sound of heavy footsteps made her heart pound. She’d been foolish for letting her guard down. Perhaps Onetooth was here to check on her because she was taking too long? Hoping it was him, she shifted. Instead of her trusted guardsman, Tyr emerged from the shadows. No mistaking that superior flesh, peppered with curly blond hair. Why was he here? Wiping beads of perspiration from her forehead, she scrambled to get underwater again.
“I have a feeling,” he started, looking down at her. “Something’s not quite right between us.”
Rachelle laughed erratically. “A feeling? I should think it would be quite clear how I feel.” She crossed her arms over her heavy breasts.
She faced him. He was so undeniably appealing, yet so appalling at the same time.
“Your eyes betray you,” he teased.
“Why are you here?”
“To entertain you…” He unlaced his breeches.
Horrified by the prospect of seeing him naked again, she squealed and covered her eyes with both hands.
His booming laugh raised her ire.
“Not the sound most women make when I disrobe.”
She resented his banter. “You lack common decency, sir.” She stole another look. Much to her relief, he wore a loincloth.
Diving off the rocks, he crossed swiftly to the far side of the spring. He leaned carelessly against the wall and rested his long arms on the narrow shelf behind. She marveled at his invulnerability.
“Why are you afraid of me?” he asked.
“I’m not,” she lied. “I just don’t like being alone with you.”
He grinned. “I can be anything you want. The rogue or the inexperienced boy—a madman or prince—a dying soldier begging for one last taste of passion or a merciless Viking claiming what rightly belongs to me.” He ran his large hand through the tangle of his wet hair.
He spoke too boldly when describing himself. Panic crashed over her.Her first impulse—run away.
Was he actually suggesting she belonged to him? Or simply jesting? There was no way to know. If she argued, he’d find a way to disgrace her.
Turning her back to him, she started up the stairs. Water splashed behind her. Knowing he was following made her cringe, but she forced her legs to continue. A thousand thoughts ripped through her mind. She’d never fought so hard to resist anyone before. Tired from days of grief and fear, why couldn’t he leave her alone?
Muscular arms encircled her from behind, his hands locked on her belly. Resting his chin on the top of her head, his deepbreaths had a surprisingly calming effect. The feverish heat from his body infused her, triggering a dangerous reaction—self-admittance that she craved love and affection. Rachelle clung desperately to her independence, but he’d breeched her defenses already.
Those hands promised unthinkable pleasures. Just the thought of another kiss made her nipples pucker. And with his rock-hard member jammed against her naked backside… she shivered. Her emotions split. Brushing wet strands of hair off her neck, his soft lips invaded, faintly tracing the curvature of her neck.Why did a single touch from him change her mind?Then he sucked and kissed her right shoulder, igniting a fire between her legs. She swayed like a reed in the wind, but his strong hands steadied her.
“You were made for touching,” he mumbled in her ear.
His voice alone wreaked havoc on her insides. Tantalizing sensations pricked her sensitive skin as his hot breath blazed a trail down her back. Shaken, but not completely weakened by his physical manipulation, she realized the only protection she had left was merciless rejection.
