Alrek(10)

Resigned, she dropped her shoulders and edged over to the bed. He was right. And while he was under her care, she wouldn’t allow him to catch a chill. After being in the water for what could have been a day or more, he would still be susceptible to illness and she did not want to be caring for an ailing Viking.

He tossed back the blanket in invitation. Her head swam and she had to remind herself to breathe. She had not shared a bed with a man since Donnie’s death. And never had she shared one with a man so… impressive. Donnie was a pleasant enough man—if a little quick tempered. They had known each other since childhood and their match was, at the time, a natural one. But never had he stirred her blood by simply looking at her. Never had he started a torrent of desire without so much as a word. Her skin pricked, her senses ripened.

Unsteadily, she eased herself next to him and lay on her back. She kept her hands pinned to her sides and stared at the roof. Alrek rested on his side and she felt his gaze on her. The knowledge of him so close made her heart beat like the wings of a butterfly. When he pulled the blanket over them both, covering their clothed bodies, she feared her heart would fly out of her chest.

Ilisa persuaded her stiff limbs to move and rolled to blow out the candles on the table. Her rear brushed the top of Alrek’s thighs and she heard a sharp inhale as darkness swallowed them. Was he truly as affected by her as she was by him? Feminine pride swelled in her chest but she tamped it down. It did not matter either way. She would never give herself to a Viking.

“Look at me, Ilisa.” His voice rumbled over her, like a hot spring bringing promise of soothing away the aches in her body and her heart.

“I cannot. ‘Tis dark.”

His laugh made the bed quake lightly. “You are a stubborn woman, Ilisa. But you know what I mean.”

With a sigh, she rolled to face him. His breath caressed her face, bringing with it the scent of honey and ale.

“I shall do all I can to thank you for saving my life,” he promised. She imagined his sensuous lips pulled into a solemn smile. “And you need not fear me.”

“I do not fear you,” she said into the night but the lie burned on her tongue. She didn’t fear him. But she feared the lust rising between them, as unmoveable as the mountains. Could she conquer such need?

“Then let me warm you.”

One arm wrapped cautiously around her waist. Ilisa went rigid but he moved no more. His large palm rested upon the base of her spine and gradually her skin warmed. How long they remained like that, she didn’t know. For many moments, she listened to his steady breaths until they deepened. She envied the ease in which he fell asleep but he had been through much, so it shouldn’t have surprised her.

Eventually she allowed herself to soften, and then ease into his chest. She put a hand to the linen and became aware of the fierce beat of his heart. The heart of a warrior, a Viking, the enemy. But as it echoed her own painfully throbbing heart she understood that desire did not care about differences. While her head might fight her attraction to Alrek, her heart would not. And if she was not careful, her soul would follow and her ancestors would curse her for falling for a Viking.

As his breath stirred her hair and an ache gathered between her thighs, she lifted her gaze to the roof and prayed to her old goddess for strength. Strength to resist such a man but above all strength to say goodbye to him when the time came.





Chapter Four

Ilisa blinked at the light streaming through the cracks in the uneven door. She yawned and blinked again. Was it past dawn? She jolted upright and scowled. It was! She never slept past dawn. There was always much to be done. She still needed firewood and the animals needed... Her gaze snapped to the empty bed beside her.

He was gone.

She skimmed a finger over the indent in the pillow. It didn’t even feel warm. He must have been gone for some time. But why? Alrek had never said anything about leaving. In fact, they’d never discussed his plans but where would he go? She’d assumed he’d stay until he could catch a boat back to his lands. Someone would likely come looking for him eventually, surely?

An ache splintered in her chest. He hadn’t even said farewell. And she had slept through it all. Ilisa rubbed her tingling nose and sniffed. Ungrateful Viking. But what else did she expect? Climbing out of bed, she ran her fingers through her hair and paused. Normally she woke up with such purpose but all her plans for the day were buried under a fog of annoyance and frustration. How dare he leave without saying farewell or even a thank you?

“Wretched Viking,” she muttered as she pulled on her gown with jerky movements.

She laced up the bodice until it pinched tight across her breasts, ignoring her chemise. It had dried but still needed washing and she needed to fetch water from the river to bathe and clean the grubby garment. Ilisa ran a comb through her hair and winced when it pulled. She should have tied it back last night but she’d been a little distracted.