“Oh, aye.” Alrek settled back against the straw pillow and nibbled the bread. His belly grumbled after a day of no food and he finished the bread quickly, much to Ilisa’s amusement. Her lips quirked and forced him to raise a brow. “What?”
“I cannot believe you are hungry and well already.”
“My body feels as though I have been trampled by horses.”
“Well, that is to be expected.”
“I would not know,” he grumbled. Ilisa taking care of him vexed. A man should take care of a woman not the other way around.
Both eyebrows arched and she took the empty plate from him. “I do not believe you’ve never been sick.”
“I do not get sick,” he declared. In truth, he couldn’t think of the last time he had suffered such bad luck. “I have survived injuries with less bother.”
“Aye, I noticed. I suppose as a Viking you expect to be killed in battle. I have seen your people fight. You seem to care little whether you live or die.” Bitterness tinged her voice and he had to keep from wincing.
“That isn’t true. We care very much whether we live or die but if we are to die, we are determined to go down in such a blaze of courage and fire that the gods will remember our names.”
She snorted. “You put much stock in your gods.”
“And you do not?”
“Once our people worshipped gods and goddesses, much like you. But they abandoned us when the Scots and the Vikings began taking our land and attacking our people. There are few who follow the old ways these days. We worship the new god and there is no place for sinners in heaven.”
“You believe me to be a sinner?”
“Do you think I would let you in my home if I did?”
He grinned at her challenging expression. “I think you are a kind hearted woman, Ilisa. You pretend to be strong but inside…”
“I pretend nothing.” She drew up her chin. “I almost left you to drown.”
Alrek laughed and his heart warmed when she followed suit. Her face lit, her eyes twinkled. How he longed to make her laugh more often. Ilisa had suffered much hardship. The steady loss of her people’s culture had to be difficult to bear. How would he feel if his culture was slowly eroded away? Devastated probably. And she was alone, trying to fend for herself in a world that favoured the strong. If he left her, how much longer would she survive? Would this Galan persuade her to be his? Would other Vikings come and raid her farm? There were many who would happily kill and rape her for sport even though it was clear she had few riches.
Again, the idea of taking her to Iceland with him struck. Unable to resist a smile at the image of Ilisa by his side with a brood of children, he failed to quash the notion, as foolish as it was. He barely knew her. Not a huge problem in his mind, after all he’d been planning to persuade a little Pict woman to join him anyway. As long as she was attractive and of good age, he would be happy. He had known a few Pictish women in his time and he’d always admired them. But with Ilisa, it was different. He couldn’t take her away from the farm she worked so hard to keep running or offer her a life with a man she didn’t know.
Though he suspected he could be very happy with her by his side.
“What is it, Alrek?” A crease marred her brow.
“What?”
“You are staring at me with a strange smile on your face.”
His grin widened. “Forgive me, I cannot help myself. You are very beautiful.” He pushed back the blankets and it was only when Ilisa released a scream did he realise he was naked and the proof of just how beautiful he found her had revealed itself. He hastily covered himself again and laughed at the way she had clamped a hand over her eyes.
“You were fevered,” she spilled out, hand still covering her face. “I had to take off your garments.”
“I am covered now.” Alrek chuckled at the blush staining her cheeks as she lowered her hand. “You have seen it all already anyway.”
“Aye, but…” She dragged in an audible breath. “I did not look properly,” she said primly.
“It is really very unfair that you have seen me naked on several occasions yet I have not seen you once.”
Her eyes rounded and he braced himself for a slap or stinging retort but her open mouth clamped shut. Apparently he couldn’t control his mouth around Ilisa. Still at least he hadn’t admitted he had actually seen her in some of her glory. He still hadn’t had a proper look at those glorious breasts.
By the gods, this wasn’t helping his problem. What was wrong with him?
Ilisa stood, leaned over him and brought her lips tantalizingly close to his. He blinked. What was she doing? Her breath breezed over his face and the scent of lavender surrounded him. She must have washed while he was sleeping. Had he missed her naked and wet? Had her pale skin been dripping and succulent while he lay senseless from the wretched fever?