Dark, Devastating & Delicious!: The Marriage Medallion / Between Duty and Desire / Driven to Distraction. Christine RimmerЧитать онлайн книгу.
to tell you. Tomorrow I’m heading for Drakveden Fjord. I want to have a look at what’s left of my plane.”
Chapter Nine
Asta let out a small cry of outrage. Then she started objecting. “Brit, you’ll do no such thing. It isn’t safe for you to be wandering all over the Vildelund.”
“My safety isn’t the issue here. I’m going.”
“Of course your safety is the issue. You are the daughter of our king, and your life is precious above all else.”
“Asta. There’s no sense in arguing about this. I’m heading out tomorrow at first light.”
“Eric.” Asta was actually wringing her hands. “Talk to her.”
Eric looked as if he wouldn’t mind strangling someone—and Brit had a good idea who that someone might be. “Take her inside,” he commanded. “Feed her. I’ll see to the horses. Then she and I will share an evening stroll.”
* * *
The “evening stroll” happened an hour later, in waning daylight. And as it turned out, there was no strolling involved. Eric must have decided he didn’t want to argue with her on the village street, where anyone might hear them going at each other. So he shooed the others out. They faced off as they had the morning before, alone in Asta’s longhouse, on either side of the deal table.
“What is the point of this?” Eric demanded. “You put yourself in harm’s way for the mere thrill of it.”
“No, I do not. And there is a point, since you asked. I want to have a look at that plane.”
“To what purpose?”
“I want to see what was done to it, to make it lose oil pressure out of nowhere like that.”
“Ah,” he sneered. “Not only a licensed pilot, but an airplane mechanic, as well.”
“I just want to have a look, okay? I just want to see if I can—”
“No.” His voice was carefully controlled—but his expression was thunderous. “It is not, in any way, okay.”
“Well, fine. It’s not okay. But I’m going, so get used to the idea.”
“You will learn nothing. And you might very well get yourself killed.”
“So be it. A little danger I can handle. It’s way preferable to hanging around here, twiddling my thumbs, getting the brush-off every time I dare to ask a question about my brother.” She was leaning toward him, knuckles braced on the table. “Unless…”
He looked bleak. “Tell me.”
“Well, I might be willing to change my mind, if you were to decide you’re finally ready to trust me. If you’d agree to take me to my brother…”
“How can I do that? Your brother is dead.”
“You keep saying that. Why don’t I believe it?”
“You don’t want to believe it.”
“That’s right. I don’t. Because it’s not true.”
They enjoyed a short, angry stare down.
Brit was the one who looked away. She pushed herself back from the table and stood fully upright, wrapping her arms around herself, turning from him, toward the stove. “I’m sick of it.” She tossed the words over her shoulder. “I’m through with it. I’m not going to learn anything more staying here.”
“Your injury—”
She whirled on him. “Is better. Better every day. Yes, it’s still tender. But it’s not going to stop me from doing what I need to do. I prevented a rape yesterday. I was slapped to the ground by a big, bossy kvina soldar. I rode bareback for hours—yesterday and today. My shoulder is no worse for all the activity. Don’t you even try to use it as an excuse to keep me here. There is nothing more for me to do here. I’ve asked all my questions and I’ve gotten too few answers. I’ve got to look elsewhere. Otherwise, what’s left for me but to return to my father’s palace with nothing to show for all I’ve been through but an ugly burden of guilt over my dead guide and a gross-looking scar from a renegade’s poisoned arrow?”
The look of fury had left his face. Now he regarded her with dangerous tenderness. “There could be more than that. There could be—”
“I know where you’re going.” She was shaking her head. “Don’t.” Just because she couldn’t stop imagining what it might be like to roll around on the bed furs with him didn’t mean she was ready to wear his medallion and bear his children.
When she bound her life to a man, that man was going to respect her as a full equal. And he was always going to be able to trust her with the truth.
He was coming around the table toward her. He stopped about three inches away.
She groaned. “Why am I always standing here waiting when you get to me?”
He lifted a hand.
She should have backed away. But as usual, she didn’t.
His finger brushed the line of her jaw, leaving delicious little tingles of longing in its wake. “Perhaps you like it, when I’m near you.”
She lifted her chin and looked at him dead-on. “Maybe I do. Maybe I wish…” Oh, what was she saying?
“Don’t stop now.” His voice had gone velvety, lovely, warm.
She pushed his tender hand away and stepped back as she should have a moment before. “Forget all that. What you need to accept right now is that tomorrow I am going to have a look at my plane. Short of locking me up and throwing the key away, you’re not going to stop me.”
He was looking bleak again. “It’s more than thirty kilometers from here, over rough, steep terrain. The hazards are endless. You won’t only have to worry about the occasional renegade and other fierce bands of kvina soldars. There are also large meat-eating animals with sharp claws and long teeth.”
“In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I’ve spent my life going to places where the terrain is rugged, the animals predatory and the locals restless. And yet, here I am. In one piece. And ready to go.”
He was the one who stepped back then. “There is no stopping you, is there?”
“Finally. You’re getting it.”
He gave her one of those long, unwavering looks—to let her know he was about to make a point that would not be negotiable. “If you’re going, I am going with you.”
She smiled then.
He grunted. “So. That was your plan all along.”
“Well…”
“What?”
“I have to admit, the idea makes me a little edgy. You know how it is with us….” She let him finish that thought for himself. “I don’t need the distraction. However, you know the way and I don’t. I can use a good guide, not to mention…”
“What?” he prompted, when she didn’t finish.
She shrugged. “You’re quick and strong. I have no doubt you know how to handle a weapon. You’re a good man to have on my side if I have to fight my way out of a sticky situation.”
He didn’t look happy, exactly. But he definitely looked a little less fed up. “Let us hope for good weather, for an absence of ‘sticky situations.”’
“Hope for the best, be ready for the worst. It’s the only way to go, if you ask me.”
* * *
They set out at six the next morning, before the sun