Forbidden Nights With A Viking. Michelle WillinghamЧитать онлайн книгу.
struck the waves, her mouth filling up with seawater. Darkness closed over her, the icy current submerging her beneath the depths.
Panic roiled inside her, and Caragh flailed her arms, struggling to break through the surface. Her gown was weighing her down, and she fought to reach the boat.
There was an enormous splash, and she saw Styr swimming towards her. He’d stripped off the chainmail corselet, his chest bare as he cut through the water. When he reached her, he seized hold of her waist. ‘Can you swim?’ he murmured against her ear.
‘I’m t-trying.’ Her limbs felt leaden from the cold, and he kept one arm around her, helping her back to the boat. When she gripped the side, he hoisted her up, and her brothers pulled her in. A moment later, he joined her.
Her teeth chattered and she shivered hard, in shock over what had just happened. The boat continued to toss in the wind, but this time, Styr held her steady.
Dimly, she heard something about moving inland, towards the shore, but her body was so cold, she hardly cared. Styr wrapped a blanket around her, but she couldn’t stop shaking.
‘Will you…hold me for a moment?’ she pleaded. It wasn’t merely the cold. It was the terror of slipping beneath the waves, being at the mercy of the sea. She could still taste the salt water, and the frigid water had nearly frozen the blood inside her veins.
Strong arms came around her, and she rested her face against Styr’s bare chest. Though he, too, was cold, the longer he held her, the warmer his skin became. She was acutely conscious of sitting in his lap, but he didn’t let go of her. He’d taken the blanket for himself, wrapping it around both of them.
‘Thank you for saving me,’ she said, her voice hoarse. The exhaustion of the day was dragging her down, her body so tired, she could hardly keep her eyes open.
Styr made no reply, but she hadn’t expected him to. As she closed her eyes, she couldn’t help but wonder why it had been him to jump in after her, instead of her brothers.
He hadn’t hesitated, stripping off his armour before plunging into the sea. And now, as her body was starting to warm, he wasn’t pushing her aside as she’d expected him to.
Don’t, she warned herself. It’s nothing.
But his heartbeat pulsed rapidly against her cheek. And his hand came up to touch her wet hair, smoothing it behind her ear. Like a caress.
Though she hated the thought of losing his warm embrace, she said, ‘I suppose you should help my brothers with the boat.’
It was an offer to release him, a way of letting him go. She’d made him uncomfortable before, when she’d kissed him, and this was just as bad.
‘Your brothers are fine.’ His voice was brusque, as if he had no intention of letting go of her. He wrapped the blanket around her, and the gesture evoked her own guilt. She’d begged him to hold her, and he’d obeyed.
Shame slid over her when she raised her head to look at Terence and Ronan. They were staring at her with an unreadable expression. They didn’t know about Styr’s marriage…and she didn’t want them to.
The winds had died down, and though the rain continued, she no longer felt as if the waves were going to drag her under again. Gently, she pulled away from Styr, trying to calm the pulsing of her heart.
‘Are you all right now?’ Terence called out to her.
She nodded. ‘I’m just cold.’
‘We’re bringing the boat in, and we’ll build you a fire to get warm,’ Ronan informed her. He sent a grateful look towards Styr. ‘Thank you for saving our sister.’
The Lochlannach only tightened his hold around her and said to Caragh, ‘You’ll be all right in the morning.’
‘But the journey to Áth Cliath—’
‘—can wait a few more hours,’ he said. ‘You need to get warm, after what happened to you.’
She didn’t argue, but adjusted the blanket around him. Styr let her remain there a moment longer before he gave it back and went to retrieve his tunic. Her brothers spoke a few words to him before he returned to her. She couldn’t hear what they’d said, and the quiet expression on Styr’s face revealed nothing at all.
‘We’ll be at the shore in less than an hour,’ he said.
‘What did my brothers say to you?’ she asked.
But he would give no answer.
It was near midnight, Styr guessed, by the time they had anchored the boat and made camp upon the shoreline. Ronan and Terence built a fire for Caragh, and though it helped, she was still soaking wet. After her eyes kept closing, Styr helped them set up a tent for her. She moved inside and he brought her another dry blanket.
‘You should be warm soon enough,’ he told her.
‘Styr,’ she whispered, touching his shoulder. Though she’d only meant to stop him from leaving the tent, the slight gesture made him grasp her hand.
‘Sleep,’ he bade her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured.
‘It wasn’t your fault you were swept overboard,’ he argued. She was so light from the hunger she’d experienced, it had been all too easy for her to fall back.
‘That’s not what I meant,’ she said quietly. ‘I shouldn’t have kissed you. You’ve been nothing but honourable towards me, and I had no right.’
He stared at her, saying nothing at all. No, she hadn’t. And though he understood that she was trying to ease things between them, her brothers had complicated matters even more.
They’d thanked him for saving her life… and then they’d asked him if he would consider marriage to Caragh.
‘You saved her life,’ Ronan had said. ‘And she needs a strong protector.’
The instinct to blurt out no had risen to his lips, to confess everything about his wife. But he understood that they were speaking of alliances, of blending the Norse and Irish together. They respected his sailing and his fishing, but more, the two men had expressed their concern for Caragh being alone.
‘The only reason you’re coming with us, Lochlannach, is for her sake,’ Terence had said. ‘I’d rather leave you behind.’
For that reason, he’d kept silent about Elena. He needed this ship to travel east, retracing the path of Brendan, and he didn’t for a moment believe that Caragh’s brothers would allow it if they knew the truth. He would tell whatever lies were necessary to reach his wife.
In the end, he’d avoided answering Ronan and Terence, saying that he had to speak with Caragh first.
She was eyeing him now, her face flushed with guilt. ‘I—I’ve done nothing but treat you badly since you set foot on Éireann. And you’ve saved my life twice.’ Her hand tightened on his. ‘First, by helping me find food, and now, you’ve kept me from drowning.’ She took a deep breath, gathering up her courage. Dark blue eyes held a fragile trust, and she admitted, ‘If you weren’t already wedded—’
‘Don’t.’ He cut her off, his tone harsh as he released her hand. ‘Don’t say it.’ He wouldn’t allow her to speak of thoughts that had no place between them.
Caragh drew up her knees beneath the sodden gown, lowering her forehead.
‘I was going to say that I wish we could be friends.’
Styr remained silent, shielding his thoughts from her. Becoming friends with a woman like Caragh was dangerous.
‘You look as if such a thing would be impossible,’ she offered.
‘It is,’ he said. ‘Men and women cannot be friends.’
She