To Tempt a Viking. Michelle Willingham

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СКАЧАТЬ to make a barrier against the wet wool.

      ‘We need a fire,’ Ragnar reminded her, reaching inside his tunic. ‘You might...build one.’

      ‘Soon,’ she promised. ‘I’m going to take out the arrow.’

      ‘I might bleed out if you do,’ he said quietly.

      ‘I can’t leave it, can I?’ She placed her hands on his shoulders, kneeling down before him. ‘You kept me protected. I’ll do everything I can to help you.’

      For a single moment, she caught a glimpse of a fierce longing in his eyes, before he shielded it and looked away. She didn’t know how to respond, for fear that she’d misread him.

      Elena took a deep breath and reached for the arrow. It would pain him more if she told him when she was planning to take it out. Though she’d never before removed an arrow from a man’s skin, it didn’t look too deep. She questioned whether to force it all the way through the skin or whether to jerk it out. Both would cause pain, but pushing it through would likely be easier.

      ‘I don’t want to cause you pain,’ she said steadily. ‘But this must be—’ with one huge push, she forced the arrow through the opposite side ‘—done,’ she finished, snapping off the tip and sliding the shaft free. He let out a gasp of pain, but she packed the wound with moss and bound it tight with the first strip of wool.

      ‘I thought you would give me more warning than that,’ he breathed, fighting against the pain.

      ‘Anticipated pain is worse than reality,’ she responded.

      ‘And you’ve had an arrow tear through your flesh before?’ His voice was harsh, but it was done now.

      ‘It wasn’t that deep,’ she offered. ‘The bleeding isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.’ Thank the gods for that. If it had gone any deeper, she doubted if she’d have had the strength to force the arrow through the other side. His rigid muscles would have made it impossible.

      * * *

      Once Ragnar was bandaged, she left him sitting against the rocks. There was a tremor in his body, as if he were unable to stop himself from shaking.

      He was right; they did need a fire to warm them. But first, she had to find flint. It was too dark to see the stones, however.

      Her mind stumbled with panic, the freezing air and the darkness starting to undermine what little courage she had left. They needed shelter and warmth to protect them this night. Their survival depended on it.

      Elena forced herself to think of the smaller details, knowing that a fire would help them both more than anything. She still had Ragnar’s knife. ‘I’ll try to find flint among the stones,’ she told him.

      ‘Wait.’ He reached into his tunic and pulled out a stone that hung from a leather thong around his neck. ‘This is flint.’

      She tried to loosen the knot while her hands rested against his throat.

      ‘You weren’t hurt, were you?’ he whispered. His voice resonated between them and a spiral of warmth rippled through her. She grew aware that her hands were around his neck, almost in an embrace.

      ‘No.’ To calm her beating heart, she murmured, ‘Don’t speak now. Just rest while I build a fire.’

      When the knot wouldn’t untie, she lifted the leather thong over his head, taking the flint and his blade. The scent of his male skin was unlike her husband’s, but it held the familiarity of a close friend. How many times had she relied upon Ragnar over the years? They’d been friends all her life, and if she had to be stranded with anyone, she was grateful it was him.

      She renewed her courage and slipped into the comfort of routine, gathering dried seaweed for tinder and driftwood along the beach. It was clear that in the morning they would have to move inland to get food. They couldn’t survive here without fresh water or shelter. Yet she didn’t know if Ragnar could manage to swim again.

      Don’t think of that now, she ordered herself. Dawn was soon enough to worry about the rest of it.

      When she’d arranged the wood and tinder, she struck the flint with his blade, until she caught a spark and blew it to life. Slowly, she fed the fire until the warmth blazed.

      Her clothing was sodden, but it felt good to sit beside the flames. When she looked back at the water, there were no ships anywhere—only the cool lapping of waves against the shore of the island. ‘What do you think happened to the others? Do you suppose they’re alive?’

      ‘I overheard the Danes talk of selling them as slaves.’ He grimaced, adjusting his position against the rocks. ‘If they didn’t murder all of them.’

      Elena rubbed her upper arms, trying not to imagine it. The idea of being the only survivors from their voyage was impossible to grasp. Even the thought made her fears well up inside, before she pushed them back.

      ‘You’re cold, aren’t you?’ she remarked, moving beside him. Though she’d bandaged his thigh wound, his clothing was as wet as hers. ‘Do you want me to help you get closer to the fire?’

      Ragnar shook his head. ‘I’ll be all right.’ He closed his eyes, adding, ‘In the morning, we’ll go to the mainland.’

      ‘Do you think you can manage the crossing?’ She worried about whether he had the strength when he was struggling to walk. Her own swimming was barely strong enough to keep her above water. Though he was stronger than most men, the salt water against his wounds would make it brutally painful.

      ‘I don’t have a choice, do I?’ Though he kept his words neutral, she sensed his pain and wished there was something she could do to alleviate it.

      She reached out to take his hand. ‘We’re going to live, Ragnar. And I owe you my thanks for saving me from the Danes.’

      He squeezed her hand, but his gaze remained distant. Though he gave no answer, she understood that he’d sworn to protect her. Nothing would make him forsake that vow.

      ‘Will you come and sit beside me?’ he asked.

      Something within her stirred at his request. It was dangerous to be so close to this man. Although he was a close friend, instinct held her back. Elena took a few steps away, needing the space.

      ‘I should gather more wood,’ she argued, fumbling for an excuse.

      ‘It’s going to be all right, Elena,’ he assured her.

      She wanted to believe it. But they were miles from anywhere, and her husband was a prisoner. Their men were held captive, taken as slaves or killed. She felt herself hovering on the brink of tears. As she gathered up more twigs and small bits of driftwood, she glanced up at the crescent moon once again.

      A ripple of uneasiness filled her, but she brushed the feeling aside. Right now, she had to concentrate on surviving the night ahead. Doggedly, she continued searching for wood, letting the mindless task blot out the horrifying fears. The night temperature had begun dropping and she returned to the fire, stacking the sticks and twigs she’d gathered.

      ‘Do you think my husband is alive?’ she asked Ragnar, thinking of Styr.

      ‘I’ve СКАЧАТЬ