“You’ll never have me, not really.” She spoke softly, gently, knowing he didn’t understand her. “I won’t make this easy on you either.” She added a little moan on the end. His nostrils flared, and she thought maybe she’d gotten a little jab at him even if he didn’t know what she’d said. This man could read people—that was clear by the intelligence reflected in his blue gaze. He didn’t speak English, or the dialect of Norwegian that she knew, but he could “read” her.
“Konna, eg er ingen heimskr.” He leaned back, had his hands on her waist in a matter of seconds, and before she could process what was happening he lifted her in the air.
She cried out in surprise and braced her hands on his shoulder to balance herself. He had her in the tub seconds later. Agata was taken so off guard that she slipped, and before she fell into the tiny thing and probably injured something else he had her braced against the hardness of his body.
She had her hands on his pecs, felt the strength that came from him, and looked down to see the intricately woven tattoos on his flesh. The symbols were sharp lines, twisting and curving around the definition of his muscles. She could have gotten lost in those designs, lost in this man that made her feel these dark, wrong desires.
Agata pulled away from him and promptly sat in the water, trying to cover herself up. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs, and stared up at him. He went over to the table and grabbed a basin of steaming water. She stared at his back, and the lash marks crisscrossing his tanned, toned flesh, and wondered who had done that to him. But despite her better judgment she found herself lowering her gaze along the tattoos, and lower still until she stared at his ass. God, she’d never been one to appreciate the male ass, but Stian certainly had one that was chiseled out of marble.
When he turned back around with the basin in hand she looked up at him, feeling her cheeks heat with the thought he’d seen her checking him out. Turning her head away from him when he smirked, she grew pissed, so angry that she was helpless right now. He bent down, and she felt her eyes widen and straightened her back when he reached in the tub and grabbed for a cloth. Smacking his hand away when he brushed along her thigh, she grabbed he cloth from him.
“I can wash myself.” This was not what she wanted, being bathed by a barbarian, but she also couldn’t deny the warm water and oils he’d put into the water made her feel semi-human again. He let out a gruff noise, but did give her the rag.
She turned her back to him, looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes, and cursed under her breath. Yeah, she’d said she would try and play along, but that was harder than she thought. One side of her wanted to just give in and play the part, think of a way to escape, but then another part said she should never relent toward this man that was holding her prisoner. He’d chained her up like he owned her or something, and she wouldn’t submit to him.
After she finished washing herself and hiding her body as much as she could, she looked at him again and saw him staring at her with a blank expression, His eyes were so blue, so penetrating, that she felt bared in not just the literal sense, but the figurative as well.
She told herself that being shy around this man needed to be eradicated, because he clearly didn’t care about his nudity. He was still so hard, so aroused, and she forced herself not to look, not to ogle like a damn pervert of a captive lusting after her captor. No, she wouldn’t go down that route.
Grabbing the longer cloth he handed her, she rose from the tub and covered her breasts and mound with the cloth. It was thicker, slightly scratchy, and as she rubbed her body dry right before wrapping it around her, she kept her focus on the wooden planked floor.
He started speaking in his language, and although she found it fascinating and beautiful she also grew frustrated.
“I can’t understand a damn thing you’re saying.” She found the humor in the fact she couldn’t understand him, yet she answered him in frustration knowing he couldn’t answer her. Closing her eyes and trying to gain her strength and a semblance of calm, she fought with herself over what was the right thing she should be doing right now.
Getting out of the tub, she moved quickly to the corner of the room where the pallet she’d slept on the night before was. Stian stared at her for a long moment, the moved over to the basin of water and climbed in. He looked ridiculous in the small thing given the fact he was huge. She couldn’t help but watch, couldn’t but help look at the beads of water trailing down the hard muscles of his abdomen. He was built like a tank, indestructible and deadly.