Alrek(14)

When the dreams receded, he woke to the grey light of dawn streaking in around the door and the gaps in the roof, pooling in beams on the floor. Something soft brushed his arm.

Ilisa.

She must have fallen asleep nursing him. He paused to study her as she slept. She sat on the floor, her head resting on top of folded arms on the bed. Her glorious hair sprawled about her, some spilling onto his chest. Unable to resist, he fingered a fiery strand.

She stirred but failed to awaken. The woman must have tired herself out looking after him. Guilt jabbed him. He’d interfered with her life too much already. Likely she’d had much to do yesterday and instead she’d spent the day playing nursemaid. He would have to think of a way to repay her. Fetching wood and water did not seem enough.

The smoothness of her cheek enticed him, begged him to skim a finger over it. And then trace down, he decided, to her lips that parted in sleep. Would she awaken and nip the top of his finger? Maybe take it all the way into her mouth? Desire stirred and made him hard. Alrek shook his head and tried to ease to sitting without disturbing her but his body ached and he groaned.

Why, by the gods, was he still alive? Were they metering out his punishment? Ilisa’s lashes fluttered and lifted. A pale blue gaze latched onto his, uncertain at first. He saw the clouds of sleep depart and she released a tiny ‘oh’ before lifting her head and fussing with her hair.

“You are awake. And alive,” she exclaimed.

He chuckled and grimaced. His body felt as though someone had tried to pull him apart during the night. Every muscle ached. “Aye, I am alive. Just about.”

“Lie still. I shall make you some tea and food. You were fevered.” She put a cool hand to his head and he hissed but it wasn’t the coldness of her palm that incited such a reaction. Her slender fingers sent a shard of sensation through him, making the hairs on his arms stand on end. “You are still warm,” she murmured and drew her hand back sharply. Had she felt the same?

Alrek observed her while she made the tea and sliced some bread. It seemed he could not stop watching her. Every movement, no matter how simple, captivated him. From the way she tucked a strand of tangled hair behind her ear to the gentle sway of her hips as she moved around the room. He longed to grasp those hips and pull her to him then press kisses behind her ear and tangle her hair further.

Would she welcome it? She wasn’t an innocent after all. But if he did so, he’d be doing it for himself. To slake his aching need for her. And Ilisa deserved much more than that. All he could give her was a fragment of his time. His countrymen often sailed the shores of Cait and soon enough a ship would be spotted. He knew where they favoured landing and he would seek passage back to the isles. From there he would have to join another crew headed to Iceland.

And there his new life would begin. Free from violence and sin. He would live his life as a farmer and hope to make amends to the gods that way. Clearly his fighting ways had displeased them. Had he not been a bold warrior? He failed to fathom it. He should have died in battle and revelled in the glory of such a death but instead the gods had let him live. And now they were testing him time and again.

Maybe Ilisa was a test too. They had put her in his path to tempt him away from his fate. His journey to Iceland had been brought about by a dream they had bestowed upon him—one of new lands and a growing family. He was to bring forth more sons. That was how he would please the gods and he could not let his attraction to Ilisa interfere with that, nor could he satiate his lust with her.

She handed him a beaker of tea. His fingers brushed hers, the tiniest touch, and her lashes lowered while colour blossomed on her cheeks. So great a need had to be shared, surely? He could not imagine she was not as affected as he.

He sipped the steaming liquid and eyed her over the brim. By the gods, he longed to drag his gaze away. Nothing could come of such desire and yet she had him spellbound. All the reasonings in the world could not force him to stop watching her.

“Has just one night passed?” He had been so delirious, he was unsure.

“Aye. You were plagued with dreams for most of the day but settled shortly after dusk. Likely your time in the sea and in the rain brought on a bout of sickness but you are a strong man and you have fought if off. Likely any other man would have succumbed.”

“I might have done had it not been for your care.”

Ilisa dropped onto the chair beside the bed and took the beaker from his hands to replace it with a platter of bread. “’Tis hard I fear.”

He coughed and jolted upright. “What?”

“The bread. I will need to visit the village and barter for more soon.”