In Bed With The Viking Warrior. Harper St. George

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       Chapter Three

      Magnus.

      As he put his arm around the woman at his side, the name pounded through his skull. It didn’t fit any more now than it had the first time he’d heard it, but he was becoming more certain that it was his name. There would be no reason for his captor to lie about it, particularly when he’d had no notion that his memories were addled. A twinge of guilt threatened to plague him at his lie, but he put it out of his mind. There was no need to reveal his name to the woman when he had no idea where he was or even who he was. Instinct told him to reveal nothing for his own safety, at least until he was sure these people weren’t enemies.

      He was certain the head wound had festered and he was fevered. His choice was simple. Either die slowly over the next several days or risk her village. At least if he risked her village, he would stand a chance. And if he died, he would die with the fair maiden at his side. He glanced down at the woman, his gaze catching on the way she caught her plump bottom lip between her teeth as she helped him navigate a small incline. His arm tightened around her, tucking her soft, well-formed body closer to his side.

      Once they were safely up the hill, his gaze travelled the curve of her cheekbone to her eyes. Long, dark golden lashes framed the light green gems. She felt his gaze on her and glanced up just to blush and look away. He continued his perusal, across the light sprinkling of flecks of colour that swept across her face from cheekbone to cheekbone, finally stopping to admire the little bit of reddish hair he could see shining from beneath her headrail. She was lovely.

      The vivid, mossy green of her eyes met his again and this time she didn’t look away immediately. They were kind and gentle as they swept over his face before she dragged them away. He had to force himself to turn his attention to the trees around them, needing to stay vigilant.

      It bothered him how hard he had to turn the words over in his head before he found the ones he wanted to say. Her language was certainly not his native one. ‘How far is your village?’ They had moved further into the forest, away from the stream.

      ‘It’s a bit of a walk. We’ll stop frequently if you need to rest,’ she hurried to reassure him.

      Stifling his laugh, Magnus shook his head but stopped when it made his head ache. The woman had no qualms about wounding his pride. ‘I can make the walk, fair one. I merely wondered why you’d be alone so far from safety.’

      ‘I’m hardly alone. I brought my sword.’

      He didn’t want to say how the sword hadn’t saved her from the Dane.

      ‘You think I couldn’t have handled him.’ It wasn’t a question.

      ‘I think he was more than twice your size. Do you have no man to protect you?’

      The question made her step falter, but then she continued onward without looking at him. ‘Nay, I do not need a man.’ Her jaw clenched as she stared ahead.

      What would make a woman so young think she didn’t want a man in her life? The question was interesting, but he didn’t press her further. Instead, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other without falling, his gaze scanning the forest for any sign of warriors. They walked in silence for a while, her softness fitting so naturally against him that he allowed himself to relish it. Apparently it had been a while since he’d enjoyed the nearness of a woman. Finally she stiffened beneath his arm, becoming more alert, meaning they must be getting close to the village.

      Pulling away from her earned him a puzzled frown, but he wouldn’t let anyone else know the true extent of his injuries. He couldn’t count on anyone to keep him safe, though he believed the woman would try. He trusted her.

      ‘Your village?’ he asked, spotting a break in the trees far ahead. A wall made of earth and wood rose up tall on the far side of a clearing. The thought that it was easily scalable teased the edges of his mind. His memory might be gone, but his warrior instincts were intact.

      The straw of a thatched roof could be seen just above the edge of the wall. It would make an excellent target for an archer with an arrow dipped in pitch. Trying to be mindful of his head wound, he turned his head left, then right to look for the sentries who must have seen them by now and saw no one. Though the movement caused black spots to dance before his vision, making him stumble with the next step, almost toppling the poor woman beneath him.

      She stifled a cry of surprise and he did his best to land on his other side, jarring his bruised ribs and grimacing as his head roiled with pain. It was a moment before the roaring in his ears died down and he could hear her speaking to him. It was a moment more before he could concentrate enough on her strange words to make sense of them. The grey at the edges of his vision cleared enough that he could see her lovely face as she stared down at him, her brow furrowed in concern.

      ‘Please don’t die. Please don’t die. Please don’t die.’ She spoke the words like a mantra.

      He couldn’t say why she reduced him to a grinning fool, but the smile spread across his face just the same. It was as if now that he was so close to death, the complexities of life had ceased to matter. Somehow his hand found its way to her cheek. He saw his thumb caressing her cheekbone before he actually felt the sensation of her silken skin. ‘I’ll not die. Not yet.’

      Her smile was mesmerising in its beauty. He wondered if he’d found a nymph intent on leading him to his death, but he admitted that he’d happily follow her. He’d already followed her this far into the unknown.

      ‘That’s my village.’ She nodded towards the wall, though her gaze never broke with his. ‘It’s only a little further.’

      ‘I’ll stay here. If there are others after me, I won’t lead them to you in the village. It’s not safe.’

      She frowned. ‘We’ll be safer inside the walls.’

      Shaking his head, he grimaced at the inevitable pain and stilled. ‘It’s close to the stream. There are no fortifications. Nothing stands between you and danger.’

      ‘There is a wall.’ She frowned. ‘We’re not that close to the stream and there are men always posted on lookout.’

      ‘It’s too low—that СКАЧАТЬ