Forbidden Nights With A Viking. Michelle WillinghamЧитать онлайн книгу.
nothing more. They weren’t even friends. Thor’s blood, she’d captured him and put him in chains. He owed her nothing at all. And because of her brother, he’d lost his wife. A wife he needed to find.
The will strengthened within him as he brushed aside idle thoughts of Caragh. Elena was his focus, and no matter how difficult the past few years had been, he wanted nothing to happen to her.
An insidious voice whispered the possibility that Elena was dead. The thought pierced him with fear. She was his responsibility to protect, and the days of sleeplessness had proved a weakness. It enraged him that he and his men had been brought down by a starving tribe. It never should have happened.
This morning, they had boarded the boat a second time. The sea was calmer now, and it was likely they could finish their journey up the coast without any further problems.
Styr risked a glance at Caragh and saw that her hair was still damp against her face. She wore the blue gown from before, with half of her hair braided back from her face. The rest hung down over her shoulders in dark, curling strands. The morning sun cast a glow over her face, but her expression held worry instead of reassurance. When the wind shuddered past her, he saw the way she gripped her arms, steadying herself.
‘She hates the water,’ Terence said, beneath his breath, as he joined Styr at the oars. ‘Ever since our da died, she’s gone nowhere near it.’
‘She said he drowned.’ He pulled hard, matching the pace of Terence.
‘Aye. He went out during a storm and never came back.’ The man turned to stare at him. ‘She has a gentle heart, our Caragh does. I don’t know why she bothered to save one like you.’
Styr made no remark, but increased his pace, forcing Terence to match him. The man did, but it didn’t take long before his breathing was laboured, his wiry arms struggling to keep up.
‘Going soft, are you, Irishman?’ He sent a sidelong glance towards Terence.
The man narrowed his eyes. ‘It would be best if you stayed in Áth Cliath, far away from our sister. I know Ronan approves of you, but I don’t.’
At that, Caragh crossed from the bow of the boat, climbing towards them until she faced both. It was clear that she’d overheard Terence’s remark. To her brother, she accused, ‘He took care of me, when you left. I had no one else.’
‘We came back,’ Terence argued.
‘And he stayed, when he didn’t have to.’ Caragh crossed her hands upon her knees and looked into Styr’s eyes. There was gratitude there, along with a tension that reflected his own uncertainty. ‘After I released him, he could have gone. Instead, he helped me find food.’
Her gaze held his, and she reached out to touch his hand. Though it was only a gesture of thanks, the coolness of her fingers sent a ripple of awareness through him. He didn’t know what it was about this woman, but she affected him in a way he didn’t understand. He gripped her fingers in warning, abruptly releasing them.
‘I would have drowned if it weren’t for Styr,’ she said quietly.
He said nothing, for he should have allowed her brothers to save her. But when she’d been swept overboard, he’d plunged into an icy sea, determined to save her. He’d reacted on instinct, swimming hard to bring her to safety. She’d clung to him, so grateful for his rescue that a warmth had threaded through him. His brain had snarled at him to let her go, to ignore the way it felt to have a woman in his arms, her face pressed against his heart. Forbidden thoughts had no place between them.
Styr released her hand and took the oars again, while Terence did the same. Caragh tried to hold his gaze, but Styr wouldn’t look at her. Even so, he caught the look of disappointment in her eyes as she retreated to the bow of the boat.
They would reach Áth Cliath today, and he was glad of it. He planned to search the city everywhere until he found Elena. He needed to see her again, to hold her in his arms and banish all other thoughts.
If she was here.
Within the hour, he spied the city upon the horizon while they sailed into the port of Dubh Linn. At the sight of the walled longphort with the ordered rectangular dwellings, it was like returning to Hordafylke. Familiarity pulled at him, along with a tug of regret. Perhaps Ragnar was right, and they should have settled here. At least the people had blended enough with the Irish that they had made a place for themselves.
But as they drew closer, his spirits deflated. The city was vast, far larger than he’d expected. Dozens of ships dotted the shores, some anchored on land, others further out. Immediately he began searching for a glimpse of his own ship, for it would confirm the presence of Elena and his men. But there were so many of them.
Ronan moved up to row beside him, while Terence joined his sister at the bow. ‘Where do you think they are now?’
Styr shook his head. ‘I don’t see my ship. While they might be here, there’s no certainty of it. We’ll have to ask.’ He glanced over at Ronan. ‘Have you been to this city before?’
‘No. But we should split off to find them. Terence and I can go west and east, while you and Caragh take the north. We’ll meet back here by nightfall.’
‘It’s dangerous to take her with us,’ Styr protested. And yet, he knew they could not leave her alone. He’d expected Ronan or Terence to keep Caragh with them, allowing him to search for Elena on his own.
‘We have no choice, and you know it.’ Ronan slowed his pace as they neared the shore. ‘But I trust you to guard her.’
‘Why?’ he demanded. ‘You hardly know me.’
‘You saved her from drowning. Your actions said enough.’
Styr gave no reply, but busied himself with tying down the mainsail. The last thing he wanted was to bring another woman with him on his quest to find Elena. ‘She’s not coming with me.’
Ronan’s expression darkened. ‘Have a care, Lochlannach. The only reason we allowed you to come along was because of our sister.’
Words of protest stumbled inside his mouth. He didn’t want Caragh anywhere near him, particularly not now. But against his better judgement, he found himself raising his shoulders in an indifferent shrug.
Ronan pressed again. ‘Keep her out of harm’s way and guard her well. We’ll find our brother and your people.’
Styr wondered how they would accomplish this when they couldn’t speak his language, but didn’t say so.
They reached one of the docks near Dubh Linn, and Styr paid a copper coin to one of the men for the right to keep the boat there for the next few days.
Caragh called out to him, ‘Where do you want to look first?’
He crossed to the front of the boat and lowered his voice. ‘It would be better if you stayed with your brothers. Tell them you’d rather search with them.’
Caragh reached to tie back her braided hair, and her face was pale. ‘Why? Because you think I’m too weak?’ She moved to his side and confronted him, keeping her voice just above a whisper. ‘Or was there another reason?’
He didn’t trust himself around her. Though he would never act upon the unbidden visions she’d conjured, being around Caragh was weakening his resolve. He’d tasted her mouth and his traitorous mind warned that her kiss had affected him in a way Elena’s never had. She was too innocent to understand, and the further away she remained, the better.
‘Why?’ she prompted again.
In silent answer, he cupped her cheek. He stared into her violet eyes, drawing his thumb over the curve of her lips in memory of the kiss. ‘Because.’
At that, she understood. Her face flushed, and she drew his hand away. ‘You’ve no reason to be uncomfortable in my presence. I would be like a sister to you.’
He masked