Twin Passions(48)

Hakon looked about the room, his eyes coming to rest on the slender form lying beneath the fur coverlet. He drew in his breath sharply. He had thought of little else since he left Trondheim but to hold Anora once again in his arms. But if she was resting soundly, he did not want to disturb her. Nay, not yet. First he would have a warm bath and rid himself of the grime and smell of the voyage. Then he would have Berta bring wine and a sumptuous meal to his hall. Only then would he wake her.

Yea, it will be a long night. He chuckled lustily, a gleam of desire flaring in his eyes. Let her rest while she may . . . Smiling to himself, he turned and walked quietly back across the threshold and shut the door softly behind him.

Gwendolyn's eyes flew open in surprise. She sat up in the wide bed, then kicked away the fur coverlet and threw her slender legs over the side of the down mattress. Running to the door, she listened until the sound of Hakon's footsteps had died away. Only then did she open the door a crack and peer out, just in time to see his broad back as he stepped from the hall and closed the heavy door behind him.

She shut the door and slumped limply against it. Suddenly she started to laugh, not only from relief, but from the sheer ridiculousness of it all. It started as a snicker, but quickly grew into hearty peals of laughter that, try as she might, she could not suppress. She ran to the bed and buried her face in one of the eiderdown pillows, and still she laughed until the tears were rolling down her flushed cheeks and she was almost choking.

But the tears of laughter soon gave way to hot, wrenching tears of frustration as the tension of the past few days suddenly overwhelmed her. Gwendolyn doubled over, her slender body wracked by silent sobs. Confusion, pain, fear, and intense longing all seemed to erupt within her. Hugging a pillow tightly to her chest, she cried until her tears were spent. And when she could cry no more she lay on the bed for a long time, until she at last fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.





Chapter 32





"Wake up, my love," Hakon murmured, nuzzling the silky skin at the nape of Gwendolyn's neck. He trailed a path of kisses down the top of her spine.

Gwendolyn's eyelids flickered open, a delicious shiver running through her body. She stretched her slender limbs languidly, unable to suppress a wide yawn. Suddenly she felt herself lifted from the bed by a pair of strong arms.

"Oh!" She gasped in surprise. Her startled gaze met Hakon's.

"If you do not awaken, little one, you shall miss the fine dinner Berta has prepared for us." Hakon chuckled. Holding her close against his bare chest, he strode out of the chamber with her and into the main room of the hall.

Gwendolyn shielded her eyes with her hand until she grew accustomed to the light of the blazing fire burning brightly in the central fireplace. But her eyes widened with astonishment when she finally looked about her.

It seemed as if the far end of the hall near Hakon's chamber had been transformed. The luxurious rug that had been in the center of the room was now stretched out before the fireplace, the flames reflecting off the glistening sheen of the black fur. Pillows swathed in silken fabrics were scattered about the rug, while a low table was set at one end. There were two fine ceramic goblets and a matching vessel upon a silver tray set atop the table. Resting beside the tray was a large covered platter, still steaming hot from the cooking house.

A flush of embarrassment reddened Gwendolyn's cheeks as her stomach growled hungrily and loudly. It had been such a long time since she had last eaten! Hakon threw back his head and laughed.

"Did you not eat while I was gone?" He shook his head in mock anger. "I will have to chastise Berta when I see her for not taking proper care of you!" He grinned wickedly as he set her down gently with her back against a large pillow. "Yea, the food does smell wonderful. I think Berta might have outdone herself this night." He dropped down beside her and gathered her into his arms. "But the meal will have to wait for a few moments, my love."

His blue eyes heatedly raked her slender body. Yea, the emerald silk of her chemise did little to conceal her charms from his gaze. Her silky skin shone like alabaster through the almost transparent fabric, the clinging bodice stretched taut across her firm breasts and pink-crested nipples. Hakon groaned inwardly. It was all he could do not to take her this very moment, but he cooled his growing ardor. Nay, he wanted to savor their evening together . . . slowly.

"I have missed you, Anora," Hakon murmured, his lips warm against her throat. His mouth, searching, insistent, moved to her delicate earlobe. He lingered there, nibbling ever so gently.

Gwendolyn closed her eyes, her body tingling with the sensations that swept through her. She could not fight him, nor did she want to. When they were together like this, it was so easy to forget the awful dilemma that tormented her . . . and to think only of love. Her hand strayed to his broad chest, her tapered fingers entwining in the thick golden curls. When he at last kissed her, parting her lips and tasting the honeyed sweetness of her mouth, she surprised him by flicking the tip of her tongue against his.

Hakon drew away suddenly, his breath ragged. He was almost trembling with desire. By the blood of Odin, what this woman could do to him! "Perhaps we had better eat," he muttered thickly. "It seems I have taught you too well, my love. One more kiss like that and the food will be long cold before we even look to see what lies beneath the cover!"

Gwendolyn smiled, strangely pleased at the power she had over him. "Aye, my lord, let us eat."

Hakon almost could not tear his eyes away from her face. He saw her smile so rarely, and when she did he never ceased to be stunned by her exquisite beauty. He said a silent prayer of thanks to Odin as he got up from the rug and walked over to the low table.

Gwendolyn's eyes moved appreciatively over his body as he bent to pour some red wine into the ceramic goblets. She watched the play of rippling muscles across the broad span of his shoulders and back, and admired the burnished bronze of his skin. His silken trousers barely concealed the tapered lines of his hips and his taut buttocks. Every sculpted inch of his body bespoke power and strength. He was so magnificent . . . so virile . . .

She could not believe the wantonness of her thoughts. Why, only a few hours ago she had cried agonized tears into her pillow, cursing the cruel fates that had brought them together. Yet at this moment for the first time she was truly glad— glad for the wild delight they found in each other's arms, glad that she belonged to him, and, most of all, glad that he loved her and would make her his wife. She shook her head, perplexed. When would she ever understand her feelings? How could this one man so completely overwhelm and conquer her sense of reason, just by his touch? He was unwittingly enticing her to betray her sense of duty to Anora, the sister she also loved with all her heart!

Hakon handed her a goblet, interrupting her jumbled thoughts. "Why do you frown so, little one?" he asked softly. She started at the sound of his voice. She had not even noticed he had returned.

"'Twas naught, my lord," she murmured, blushing warmly. She reached up and took the other goblet of wine from him. He then walked quickly back to the table and returned with the large covered platter. He set it gingerly in front of her, then sat down cross-legged close by her side, his hard, muscled thigh brushing against her leg.

"Nay, 'twas something, I know it," he insisted gently. "I have seen you frown so before, when you were deep in thought." He smiled rakishly, his blue eyes burning into hers with heated desire. "I forbid you to think of aught else but me this night," he said huskily. "Now drink with me, Anora."

Taking one of the goblets from her hand, he raised it to his lips and drank deeply. Gwendolyn did the same, her eyes not leaving his. It was more of the same red wine they had shared in the bathing house, she thought, savoring the heady sweetness. Memories of that long night flooded back to her, and she hoped that tonight would be as passionately fulfilling.

Hakon set down his goblet and lifted the cover from the wooden platter. As the steam escaped from under the dripping lid, the mouth-watering aroma of roasted pheasant filled the air. There were four of the delectable birds arranged on the platter, surrounded by pit-roasted small potatoes and steamed figs.

He smiled at Gwendolyn's gasp of pleasure. Breaking off a well-browned leg, he handed it to her, then tore another off for himself. Berta had even provided a crusty loaf of rye bread slathered with golden butter, and several moistened towels for their hands.

They ate in contented silence, Hakon handing Gwendolyn choice pieces of roast pheasant and the plumpest figs. One ripe fig burst when she bit into it. The sweet juice ran down her chin and on to the bodice of her chemise, soaking through to her skin, before she could wipe it away. She giggled as Hakon drew her to him and kissed the nectar from her mouth.

"I will savor the rest of it later." He grinned lustily, his eyes on her breasts. The thought sent shivers of anticipation racing through her. He was about to rise to fetch more wine, but Gwendolyn stopped him. Rising to her feet, she walked to the low table, very much aware that his gaze was following her every movement. She picked up the tall vessel and turned around, a faint smile on her lips.

Hakon almost choked. Her silken garment was so sheer, it was as if she were standing before him with no clothes on at all! The leaping flames in the fireplace cast a glowing aura about her slender form, accentuating her delicate curves. She seemed bathed in light, from her head to her toes. The delicate beauty of her features shone with ethereal radiance, the soft curls of her silver-blond hair glinting with shimmering highlights. If Hakon had not known she was a flesh-and-blood woman, he would have thought for sure she was a goddess sent down from the high throne of Odin himself! Overwhelmed by raging desire, he knew he could wait no longer.