Marrying Her Viking Enemy. Harper George St.

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СКАЧАТЬ He should be fierce, with a fierce smile to match. His expression turned to pure masculine arrogance when he answered, ‘They’ll never be too powerful for the Danes.’

      She scoffed and made a show of finishing her work with the poultice, mixing the herbs in the bowl before readying a bandage with a length of folded linen. However, deep in her heart, she feared that he was right. She’d been impressed with the Danes who had spent the summer in Alvey. She’d been even more impressed by the sheer power of the army that had marched into Alvey hours ago. Tomorrow she would see them in practice, but she really had no need to see them to know that they would be fierce. Their reputation preceded them there.

      ‘You Danes are all alike. Too full of yourselves for your own good.’

      ‘It’s not conceit if it’s true. I’ve never lost a fight.’

      She found it very easy to believe him. He sat in that humble tub like a king, his powerful arms stretched along the rim, his eyes shining with confidence. In that moment she had to wonder if it was possible for anyone to best him.

      His eyes had gone slightly hooded as he watched her, an indolent quality coming over his face. ‘I toured the north after Lord Vidar married Lady Gwendolyn. I don’t remember meeting you.’ He said it as if he would’ve remembered.

      God knew that she would have remembered him had they met before. He was too vibrant and too formidable, equal parts terrifying and fascinating.

      ‘Nay, we never met.’ She remembered their visit well, though her father had kept her and Ellan hidden away inside so that she’d never actually seen Rolfe. It was no secret to anyone that Father distrusted the Danes. She suspected it had been one of the reasons Lord Gwendolyn had sent for her and her sister. The woman was ever trying to make peace, but it seemed no matter what she did, Father wouldn’t approve.

      He despised the fact that his own wife had run off with one of them. It ate at him constantly. Before it had happened, he’d always been stern and quiet, but something had changed in him in the years since. He brimmed with anger and bitterness. Lady Gwendolyn marrying a Dane had brought it all to overflowing. He hated that she’d married Lord Vidar and he hated all the Danes in Alvey that came as a result of that marriage. There would be no peace as far as he was concerned.

      Elswyth had been surprised that Father had agreed to Lady Gwendolyn’s plan, but his reasoning had become clear on the morning of their departure. He had approached her horse where she was saying goodbye to her younger brother Baldric. Ellan had followed their older brother, Galan, out of the yard, giving them a brief moment of solitude.

      Pitching his voice low, he’d said, ‘Keep your eyes open, Elswyth. We need to know what these Danes are really up to. I’ll expect your account upon your return.’ She’d stared at him in shock, but he’d only slapped the horse on the rump and called after her, ‘I’m depending on you!’

      He had meant for her to spy. A lump of unease had been present in her belly ever since. Rolfe’s presence only made it worse. While everyone knew that Lord Vidar was in charge, he would not dare to lead warriors against people he was sworn to protect. Should an uprising occur, it would be Rolfe sent to dowse it. Rolfe commanded the warriors. Rolfe would raise his sword against her village and her family if it was ordered.

      Knowing all of that, she couldn’t understand why he fascinated her so. She should despise him. Because of men like him, her mother had abandoned the family. Elswyth had been forced to take over her duties when she’d scarcely been able to carry a pail of water on her own. She had spent the formative years of her childhood wondering how she could have prevented her mother from leaving, questioning if she had been a better daughter would her mother have stayed and even secretly thinking that perhaps she herself was unlovable.

      Yet, even with that history giving her plenty of reasons to hate him, she couldn’t keep her eyes from him. From beneath her lashes, her gaze swept over his broad shoulders and the cords of muscle that defined his arms. ‘You’ll need to get yourself dry so that I can put the poultice on your shoulder. It shouldn’t get wet.’

      Without giving her a chance to prepare herself or even avert her eyes, he stood in the tub. Water sluiced down his strong body in rivulets, reflecting gold in the soft glow of the candles. The solid muscles in his back tapered down to a narrow waist and a pair of buttocks that might have been carved stone. His thighs were corded in muscle, thick as tree trunks and just as strong from the looks of them, with a light sprinkling of dark blond hair. In the slit of light visible between them, the weight of his manly parts hung—a gasp tore from her throat when a sheet of linen blocked her view, making her realise that she had been staring. Not once had she even attempted to avert her gaze. He had been decent enough to not ogle her the entire time she’d been in his chamber, his eyes had never left her face as they’d talked, but she couldn’t find the decency to look away from his nakedness. Her face burned in shame as she forced her attention to the poultice.

      He stepped out of the tub on to a rug made of rushes and tied the sheet around his waist. Grabbing another sheet of linen, he wrapped it around his shoulders, though he did it awkwardly with one hand while keeping his left arm against his torso. She would have helped him had she not been too astonished at her own bad behaviour. Instead, she waited for him to get settled on the bench before bringing the tray over to set it on the table next to him, her face—indeed her entire body—still flaming with embarrassment. Slowly and with as little touch against his bare skin as possible, she used the sheet to dry off his back.

      Working with efficiency, she managed to apply the poultice on to his wound and wrap linen around his shoulder. The light sprinkling of fur on his chest teased her fingertips on the first pass, sending cinders of curious sensation running down her arm. This man was nothing like she had imagined. He wasn’t a monster, or even particularly unpleasant. He was simply a man, made of warm, solid muscle and bone. Yet, that realisation somehow made him more dangerous to her. Tying off the end of the bandage, she stood back, making minor adjustments to the wrapping. ‘I’ll make you a sling. You should wear it to keep your shoulder braced until it starts to heal. You don’t want it to break open again.’

      ‘I’ll try.’ Wearing only the linen slung low around his waist, he walked to a chest at the foot of his bed and pulled out an under-tunic. ‘Would you help me put it on?’

      With a wordless nod, she took the folded linen from him. She was tall for a woman, but he was so much taller he had to stoop down for her to put it over his head. A tightening of his jaw was the only indication he gave that he experienced discomfort as he shoved his left arm through the sleeve. She didn’t even give him time to rummage through the chest for trousers, knowing that she couldn’t handle the embarrassment of watching him discard the linen sheet to put them on. Instead, she immediately grabbed the material for the sling and stepped up to him.

      He smelled good. Clean like the soap, but also like evergreen needles in the forest mixed with a rich masculine scent that was very pleasing. He was quiet as she fitted it, knotted it and then slipped it across his chest, but she could feel his eyes on her face. They seemed curious and that damnable kindness lurking in their depths made it impossible for her to summon the anger and hate that she meant to feel towards him.

      ‘When do you go back home?’

      The question made her heart stutter. Satisfied with the sling, she lowered her arms from his shoulders and forced herself to take a step back from him. Distance seemed very good at the moment. ‘My father is meant to come before the next full moon.’

      ‘A fortnight, then.’ He nodded as if the information pleased him somehow, as if he was mulling something over and that worked nicely into his plans, when she shouldn’t fit anywhere into his plans.

      Her СКАЧАТЬ