Forbidden Nights With A Viking. Michelle WillinghamЧитать онлайн книгу.
a scratch.’
‘And what if it gets worse?’ he prompted. ‘What if I get a fever and you have to stay all night at my bedside?’
‘I could cut it off and save myself the trouble,’ she remarked drily. ‘See, it’s stopped bleeding already.’
This wasn’t at all working the way he wanted to. ‘I’d like it if you stayed all night at my side. The way you did a few weeks ago.’
Her face flushed. ‘Styr, I can’t.’
‘Then you’ll return to your brothers, feed them, tuck them into their beds at night, and never marry. Is that it?’
‘There’s no harm in taking care of my family.’
‘They’re grown men. They should marry and have their own families,’ he said. Though she’d cared for them over the course of the past year, he wanted her to break free of them.
‘Are you hungry?’ he asked.
‘I have a meal prepared,’ she answered. ‘It’s enough.’
‘Bring some of the food in a basket,’ he said. ‘I’ll take you out on the water, and we’ll sail and eat.’
She cast a reluctant glance towards the hut. ‘How do I know you’ll bring me back?’
‘My men are here,’ he pointed out. ‘I’m not about to abandon them.’ When she didn’t answer, he added, ‘And you’ll see the gifts I brought for you.’
In her eyes, he saw the slight interest, and he took her hand, leading her along the shore. ‘Will you come?’
Caragh wasn’t certain why she’d decided to sail away with Styr, but the idea of leaving everything behind and feeling the wind in her face was suddenly appealing. She closed her eyes, breathing in the salty air while the sun warmed her face. When she opened them, she saw Styr’s taut muscles flexing as he fought the power of the wind.
He caught her watching him, and his gaze turned heated. As if there was no one else in the world but the two of them.
He’d never openly pursued her, and it took a strong effort to guard her heart. For so long, Elena had been between them. And now, he had ended that path, choosing Caragh instead.
What if he found her wanting? The lack of a child had torn apart his first marriage, and she feared that it might happen again. She’d been honest with him; she did want a baby. She wanted to feel the warmth of an infant against her breast, touching the small feet and curled fists. It might not happen if she wed him. And if it did not, would it come between them?
‘Keep looking at me like that, søtnos, and I’ll never take you back again.’
She braved a smile, and he tied off the ropes, coming to sit before her. ‘Do you want to see the gifts I’ve brought?’
‘You didn’t need to bring me anything,’ she began, though it was difficult to push back her curiosity.
Styr reached into the bag and showed her a length of crimson silk. She touched it, and marvelled at the softness of the cloth. ‘I’ve never felt anything like this before.’
‘You’ll sew a gown from it. And wear it on the day we wed.’
She brought it to her cheek, a rise of nerves gathering in her stomach at the thought. Though she wanted to wed him, a thousand doubts and fears made her nervous.
‘We should sell it,’ she suggested. ‘The harvest might fail, and—’
‘It won’t.’ He folded up the cloth and set it aside. ‘Caragh, there’s nothing wrong with accepting gifts of value.’
‘We have so little,’ she confessed. ‘I can’t forget what it was like when we nearly starved. I don’t ever want to face that again.’
‘You will become accustomed to wearing finery, as a jarl’s wife.’
‘But my brother Ronan is chief,’ she protested.
‘My men will not follow an Irish leader.’ He stared out at the horizon, and pointed to the stretch of green lands further inland. ‘We will settle there, near the river. And you will be their lady.’
She’d never dreamed of such a life, or of such responsibilities. But she could see that it meant a great deal to Styr.
‘My brothers own those lands,’ she reminded him.
He inclined his head as if he’d expected this. ‘I will negotiate for the territory, in return for grain, livestock, and more silver. Your people will not know hunger again.’ He proved his words by withdrawing a small leather pouch. Inside, Caragh found a great deal of silver and gold.
‘When I returned to Áth Cliath, I relieved the Norsemen of their wealth,’ he admitted. ‘They should have known better than to wager against me.’
She closed the pouch and handed it back. ‘I thought you wanted to sail across the seas to distant lands.’
He turned back to look at her, as if he were startled that she’d remembered. ‘Some day, perhaps.’ He withdrew a folded piece of leather and passed it to her. ‘These came from the southern lands.’
Inside, Caragh found oval-shaped nuts that were sticky to the touch.
‘Those are almonds, dipped in honey,’ he told her. ‘The traders brought them to the city.’
She savoured the honeyed almonds, holding them in her mouth until at last she tasted the crunch of the nuts. When she offered one to Styr, he raised her fingers to his mouth, kissing the tips as he took the almond. Then, he rested his arm at her waist, sitting beside her while the boat took them along the coast. The wind had slowed, but she enjoyed the way the vessel skimmed the water.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘Does it matter?’ His hand moved up her spine, his gaze upon her.
No, it didn’t. Being with him, knowing that he’d sailed hundreds of miles to return to her, was a strong temptation. Her head argued that she needed to be careful, to guard her heart.
He didn’t choose you, her head warned. He chose Elena first.
She closed her eyes, silencing the words she didn’t want to face. Caragh stared out at the sea, admitting, ‘I am glad you returned.’ His hand moved up her back in a soft caress, weakening her resolve. Somehow, she forced herself to continue. ‘But I’m also afraid.’
‘Of what?’
‘What if I cannot bear you a child, either?’ Though she didn’t want to push him away, she felt the need to confront the barrier that had driven Styr and Elena apart. She loved him, but his first marriage had broken apart without a child.
He cut her off, touching his hand to her lips. ‘We can speak of it later, Caragh. For now, I want this time with you.’
Her protests fell silent at that. He was right. They had been apart for nearly another month, and she had missed him desperately.
She moved her hand to his chest, unable to resist slipping her hand beneath his tunic. His skin was warm and firm, his muscles taut beneath her fingertips. He inhaled when she touched him, and he moved her hand away for a moment while he removed his tunic. His body was bared to her, and she saw the years of strength and pain scarring his chest.
‘I did miss you,’ Caragh said again. She couldn’t resist running her hands over him. Her fingertips grazed his nipples, and they hardened, his body responding to her. When she bent and touched her lips to his skin, needing to taste him, he let out a groan, his hands catching in her hair.
‘Show me how much,’ Styr demanded. He laid her back on the bottom of the vessel, lying beside her. His mouth was on hers, hungrily kissing her until she wrapped both arms around him.
So