Forbidden Nights With A Viking. Michelle WillinghamЧитать онлайн книгу.
my prisoner,’ she confessed. ‘But…now, he is…’ She faltered as if searching for a reason.
Desperate, she caught his gaze and abruptly moved her arm around his waist. She managed a smile for her brothers, as if her action were explanation enough.
The touch of her arm around him sent up a flare of warning. Styr didn’t know what her intentions were, but the unexpected touch was far too familiar. She was trying to make her brothers believe that there was more than friendship between them, and the gesture bothered him.
Worse, he was acutely aware of the soft heat from her skin, the scent of her hair. He tensed, as if that could stop him from feeling anything at all. Frustration coiled inside him, but he didn’t push her away. Not until he understood what she was trying to do.
‘But now?’ Terence repeated, eyeing his sister with distrust. The man rested his hand upon the sword hanging from his scabbard. Though he kept his tone calm, his grey eyes held a warning. ‘Give me a reason why I should spare the life of a Lochlannach.’
Caragh took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. She didn’t look at Styr, but neither did she release him. ‘Now, he has come to mean far more to me.’ She tightened her grip around Styr’s waist, as if pleading with him not to speak. ‘Don’t harm him, Terence. You saw for yourself, how he defended me.’ Her hand moved up to rest upon Styr’s heart, her fingers grazing the skin beneath his throat.
That was all it took for his body to respond to her. His heartbeat quickened, and he loathed himself for the involuntary reaction. Gently, he removed her hands and remarked, ‘I don’t need your protection, Caragh.’
There was a glint of approval in Ronan’s eyes. Styr suspected he might be the leader of the tribe, from the way he stood back, assessing both of them. He was taller than his brother, with dark hair like his sister. His beard was sheared close to his skin, and there was a leanness to him, as if he, too, had suffered from the famine. Even so, from the protective nature of the man, Ronan wouldn’t take kindly to anyone speaking against Caragh.
‘Why did you come here?’ Terence demanded. The shorter man was thin, like his brother, but still heavily muscled. There was a hint of darkness to his tone, as if he were trying to provoke a fight.
‘We came to trade, and to settle here before your brother attacked us.’
Terence smirked. ‘Then you were defeated by adolescent boys. I’d have liked to see that.’
Styr’s hand shot out and gripped the man’s throat. He squeezed just hard enough to make his point. ‘My men hadn’t slept in days, after the storms at sea. They were not at their full strength.’
‘Let him go, Lochlannach,’ Ronan ordered. The point of his blade rested at Styr’s throat. ‘We have more questions that need answering.’
Styr loosened his grip, though he stared hard into Terence’s eyes with a silent threat of his own. When he released the man, Terence stepped back, rubbing the skin of his throat.
‘You said you were going to search for Brendan,’ Ronan interrupted. ‘Where do you think he sailed?’
‘Caragh thinks he may have gone to Áth Cliath.’ He made no mention of Elena’s capture, for he was still uncertain of Caragh’s intent. He doubted if her brothers believed her suggestion that they were more than friends, because the men were staring at him with distrust. Yet, despite the fact that he’d nearly strangled Terence, they viewed him with a wary respect. Like him, they were warriors. And they now knew that he could defend himself.
‘Is this true?’ Ronan asked of his sister. ‘How long has Brendan been gone?’
‘It’s true,’ she admitted. ‘He’s been gone a few days now. We were going to begin our search today.’
‘And who else was going to accompany you?’ Terence asked. ‘You weren’t planning to go off with this Lochlannach on your own, were you?’
A flash of anger darkened Caragh’s face. ‘And what choice did I have? You and Ronan left me here alone. I didn’t know when—or even if—you were coming back.’
‘Brendan was supposed to defend you,’ Terence countered.
‘And a fine job he did,’ she shot back. ‘He and his friends stole a ship and disappeared.’
Ronan came forwards, his expression sombre. ‘We never intended to be gone longer than a sennight. I’m sorry if Brendan failed in his duty to you.’ His gaze shifted to Styr. ‘How many were killed in the attack?’
‘Two of yours,’ Styr said. He crossed his arms and warned, ‘If your brother was foolish enough to take only a few men with him, it wouldn’t surprise me if my men feigned capture and took back the ship. There were more of my men than yours.’
Caragh paled. ‘Do you think Brendan is still alive?’ There was a stricken note in her voice, as if she hadn’t wanted to believe otherwise. Styr gave no answer. If he’d been among his men, he wouldn’t have hesitated to lash back at those who had dared to threaten Elena. It was possible that his men had already killed her brother.
‘We’ll know when we find my ship,’ was all he could say.
‘We will accompany you,’ Ronan said. He took a step forwards, resting his hand back on his dagger. ‘We’ve brought back more grain and other supplies that will serve us well for the journey. I’ve also arranged for more sheep and cattle to arrive later.’ He sent a pointed look towards his sister. ‘Caragh, you will remain here.’
‘No, I won’t.’ She moved between them, her face flushed. ‘The last time you left, I nearly starved to death. If it weren’t for Styr, I’d have run out of food.’ She continued talking, jabbing her finger at her older brother. ‘I’m weary of staying behind, and I won’t do it. I trust him, more than I do either of you, to find food. He helped me find crab, and fish, and—’
‘I thought you took him captive?’ Terence interrupted.
‘I did. It took almost an hour to get him chained up. Seon helped me, but they killed—’ Her words broke off, and she took a deep breath to hold back the emotion.
Terence sobered at the mention of the old man, and Caragh composed herself. ‘Enough of this. What matters now is finding Brendan.’
‘There’s also the problem of you spending several nights alone with this man,’ Ronan pointed out.
Caragh’s face turned scarlet, and Styr stiffened, waiting for her to confess that he was married and nothing had happened between them. Instead, she reached up to touch his face. ‘Don’t harm him, Ronan. He’s a good man. One who has defended me, given me food, and one who…I have come to care for.’
Styr froze in place as Caragh came up before him, standing on tiptoe. Before he could protest, she pulled his face down to hers, kissing him lightly. What was she doing? He couldn’t—
Every thought deserted him when she deepened the kiss, daring more. He understood that this was a false kiss, one meant to reassure her brothers that he wasn’t going to harm her. It was a ruse, and that was all.
The softness of her lips upon his were innocent, unknowing of the ways between a man and a woman. It startled him, and instinct warned him to break it off. But the gentle kiss reached inside his stony heart and breathed life into him.
He couldn’t remember the last time a kiss had affected him in this way. His body and mind were at war, his honour caught up in the softness of a woman’s mouth.
Caragh was trying to deceive her brothers. He understood that this kiss was only her effort to spare his life, though he didn’t need her protection.
She continued kissing him, but a dark rage blistered inside him, that she would try to use him in this way. Did she honestly believe that he would betray Elena for a woman he hardly knew?
She wanted him to kiss her back, to continue