By Love Enslaved (30 page)

“Did Erik tell you what happened?” Dana whispered anxiously as he drew her into his arms. The warmth of his embrace was so soothing at the end of a long and troubled day that she relaxed against him without considering that he would misinterpret the gesture as a sign of surrender.

Drinking in the exotic fragrance of her long curls, Brendan pressed her closer still, adoring her supple body as much as her engaging spirit. “Have you forgotten? I said we would make love first and talk later.”

“But everything has changed.”

Brendan slackened his hold so that he could see her face in the moonlight. “Between us, the only difference is that I want you more.”

Dana found it impossible to think clearly when the rich timbre of his voice was so enticing. He was smiling at her, a slow, sweet smile unlike any expression she had ever seen him wear. Unable to fight the attraction that she feared would destroy them both, she lay her head on his shoulder and sighed softly.

“You don’t understand. My mother is so upset about Erik and Berit she will neither leave her room nor speak with me. If she discovered that I’d been with you—” Dana caught herself then as she realized too late she had just given Brendan the means to force her to come to him again.

Brendan felt her stiffen and was too clever not to understand why. “I wouldn’t have gone to Grena, and I won’t go to Freya either. I don’t want you to be afraid of me, or what I might do to the people you love. All I want is for you to admit that you want me as badly as I want you.”

Unable to believe him, Dana placed her palms on his chest and attempted without success to push him away. “Don’t lie to me, Brendan. You were already on your way to Grena’s when I left the house the other night. You can’t deny it now.”

Gripping her arms forcefully to hold her fast, Brendan repeated his promise. “Don’t make the mistake of doubting my word, Dana. Neither you nor your loved ones will come to any harm because of me.”

“I have already been harmed,” Dana reminded him coldly.

“No, you haven’t. You have only been loved.” Just as he had anticipated, the mention of the word
love
startled her into silence, and before she could think of a reply, Brendan lowered his mouth to hers. With the gentleness he knew she craved, he caressed her lips lightly until he felt her lift her arms to encircle his neck. Rather than take pride in the fact he had again overcome her resistance to him, he continued to ply her with lavish kisses until he felt tremors of desire fill her lithe body with a beguiling weakness that left her clinging to him for support.

She was again fully dressed, but Brendan did not let that obstacle slow his relentless progress toward intimacy. Slipping one hand beneath her chemise, he ran his fingers up her thigh, then over her hip to satisfy himself that she wore only a simple linen shift as an undergarment. He wondered what she had done with the one he had torn. Had she taken the trouble to mend it with tiny stitches, or had she just thrown it away?

The state of her wardrobe was the farthest thought from Dana’s mind as Brendan’s caress grew increasingly more bold. To escape that torment she raised herself up on her tiptoes, then discovered that only made it easier for him to probe the soft recesses of her body more deeply. He knew precisely where to concentrate his touch to make her crave more, and when she leaned against him, she felt the hardened evidence of his desire pressed firmly against her belly. He was blatantly willing their bodies to fuse into one, but this time she wanted to make certain he removed his clothing as well as hers first.

“I want you nude,” she whispered against his cheek. “Surely I am worth the trouble it will take you to undress.”

He had not dared waste the time when they had first made love, but now Brendan agreed. He pulled off her tunic before removing his kirtle, however. “Help me,” he urged, but rather than seeing to her own clothing, Dana dropped to her knees to unlace his boots. Rather than explain that she had misunderstood his request, Brendan stood still to simplify her task. He doubted she had ever seen to a man’s boots, and it was so touching a gesture he didn’t know why she refused to speak the words of endearment he knew she had to feel. When she stood and reached for the button at the waistband of his breeches, he caught her hands.

“Remove your chemise while I do this. I don’t want to lose another pair of breeches due to your impatience.”

While the taunt would have infuriated Dana at another time, in the moonlight-drenched woods it seemed only the sweet teasing one lover gives another, and she did not object. Taking a step backward, she untied the bow at her neckline and let her silk chemise slide to the ground. Her shift followed, and she stepped out of them both, apparently unembarrassed about appearing before him in the nude as she removed her own boots.

While he lacked her grace, Brendan managed to cast off the last of his clothes without looking too clumsy. He reached out to Dana then, and drew her back into his arms. Her silken flesh felt cool as it brushed against his far warmer skin. The fullness of her breasts begged for his kiss, and he quickly lowered her to the grass where he could caress her with eager kisses as well as his seductive touch.

As he drew the firm tip of one lush breast into his mouth, Brendan slid his hand between Dana’s thighs to again use a knowing rhythm to lure her toward surrender. Her slippery wetness was proof enough her body was ready to accept his, but he needed still more from her. That he wanted her so badly tore at his soul, for no woman had ever exerted the control over his emotions Dana did. If only to assuage his masculine pride, he had to know he affected her just as strongly. He gave her a lingering kiss, then used his knee to spread her thighs wide before shifting his position to lie comfortably between them. Instantly he felt her grow tense, but knowing this time he would cause her no pain, he summoned all his willpower and began with only a shallow penetration. Balancing his weight on his elbows, he looked down at her, silently willing her to beg him for more.

As she lay beneath him, Dana saw only the compelling light in Brendan’s eyes. Her body had opened easily for him this time, and while she disliked feeling so vulnerable she did not understand why he had not begun the motions he had taught her would fill them both with indescribable pleasure. “What’s wrong?” she asked, fearing her inexperience had presented a problem she didn’t see.

Brendan moved slightly then, but still his thrust was so shallow he succeeded in his ploy to tease her senses. At the same time he had to fight the impulse to plunge into the warm, moist depths he alone had savored. “Nothing is wrong,” he murmured softly, “but we needn’t rush. There’s time for you to admit that you love me.”

“Love you!” That she was with him was bad enough, but to say it was out of love when surely it was not was something Dana would never do. She felt him move in response to her tacit denial, almost completely withdrawing the soft, smooth tip of his manhood before again barely sliding into her. The sensation was the most exquisite torture she could imagine, and she knew he would keep it up all night if she didn’t think of a way to turn his trick back on him.

“Kiss me first,” she begged in an enticing whisper. “Then I’ll say whatever you want to hear.”

While that was not exactly what he had had in mind, Brendan lowered his mouth to hers. Her tongue teased his, drawing him lower still as she opened her mouth to accept his kiss, and in the next instant she moved beneath him. Sliding easily on the grass, she took the whole length of him inside her, then wrapping her legs around his hips, she crossed her ankles to hold him tight.

The worst of insults leapt to Brendan’s lips, but recalling how he had longed to have her wrap her legs around him the first time they had met, he could not be angry with her. All he could do was think her as glorious a partner as he had known she would be.

His body blocked the light and he could not see her expression, but he imagined it was one of triumphant satisfaction. She had robbed him of that same sense of pleasure, but he did not really mind her defeating him in so stunning a manner. Knowing she was all the woman he would ever want, he finished what he had begun with a joyous abandon that left them both drained of all emotion except the marvelous afterglow of perfect peace. He fell asleep with her cradled in his arms, her fiery red curls fanned out over his chest.

When Brendan awoke later, he found himself alone in the woods and more determined than ever to wrench a tender confession from Dana when next they met. Then he realized, in the heat of passion they had made no plans to meet again, nor had Dana spoken of her desire to discuss his freedom. She had not even mentioned the subject that she had claimed was so vital. He was thoroughly disgusted with himself for promising never to harm her or her family when she had given him no sweet vows in return. He had wanted her to take him for her lover, but not when she left him without a shred of pride. Cursing his weakness for her, he made his way through the woods, and when dawn broke Erik found him sleeping with the other men and never guessed he had been away.

Chapter Fifteen

“Drink this,” Grena ordered with a grim determination that discouraged argument.

Recognizing neither the pale green color nor the peculiar fragrance of the brew, Berit took hold of the tankard but did not take a sip. “What is it?”

“Merely one of Olga’s herbal beverages to help you sleep.”

Berit was still as thoroughly miserable as she had been before dawn when Grena had dragged her and the twins away from her Aunt Freya’s. Since then she had been confined to her bedchamber, where she had repeatedly cried herself to sleep.

“I don’t want it,” she insisted, but when she tried to hand it back to her mother, the solemn woman refused to accept it.

“Do as I say, Berit. You must drink every last drop.”

Instantly suspicious, Berit took another look at the strange liquid. She could see her reflection dancing on the oily surface and doubted the drink was as innocent as her mother claimed. Fearing it would do her more harm than good, she held the tankard away from her body and poured its contents out on the floor. Her expression as defiant as her action, she handed the now empty vessel back to her mother.

Grena knocked the tankard aside, then slapped her daughter with a vicious backhanded blow. “You little fool! That you have given yourself to a man who is so far beneath you is tragic, but we must do all that we can to prevent you from bearing his child. When I return with more of that potion, you will drink it willingly.”

“You expect me to drink poison willingly?” Berit gasped incredulously. Her mother had never struck her before, but the resulting physical pain wasn’t nearly so acute as the emotional turmoil she had endured all day.

“It is not poison,” Grena informed her coldly, “but a medicinal brew.”

“It is poison if it will kill an unborn babe, and I’ll never drink it.”

Grena was determined to put a swift end to Erik’s influence over her daughter and again make her the considerate child she had always been. “Oh, yes, you will,” she threatened convincingly, “because you’ll have nothing to eat until you do.”

“You would rather starve me to death than see me wed to the man I love?”

“Yes,” Grena replied calmly, and seeing no point in again listening to Berit’s childish protestations of love, she left her bedchamber and locked the door.

Berit felt as though she had never really known her mother, the woman had changed so greatly since finding her in Erik’s arms, but she would never give in to her impossible demands. Stretching out across her bed, she focused her thoughts on the man she loved, not the mother who had treated them both so cruelly. It had been slightly more than two weeks since the first time she and Erik had lain together, so it was too soon to know if she had conceived a child.

Perhaps, as her mother insisted, she was barely out of childhood herself, but because there was a chance she might be carrying Erik’s babe, she would never drink anything that would end its life before it had even begun. She loved Erik so dearly the mere possibility of a child was as precious to her as a living son would be. She wasn’t at all frightened at the prospect of defying her mother, since she had no choice in the matter, but as she drifted off to sleep she wondered if starving to death could be any more painful than dying of a broken heart.

When Freya continued to regard her with a disappointed glance, Dana tried to be patient. She thought her mother would eventually adjust to the fact that Erik and Berit loved each other, but when several days passed without the slightest brightening of Freya’s downcast mood, Dana feared she had seriously misjudged the depth of her anguish. Not in the least bit sorry for what she had done to aid her half brother and cousin, she waited until Thora was playing with some of their servants’ children and her mother was alone in her room. She then took matters into her own hands.

Freya glanced up as Dana came to her door, but then looked away, unwilling or unable to speak with her. She appeared very tired, as though she had not been sleeping well, and while Dana had had a difficult time sleeping herself, she was ready to confront the issue that had divided them rather than to allow the uncomfortable silence between them to continue.

Entering her mother’s bedchamber as though she had been invited, Dana closed the door, then sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m truly sorry our deception hurt you. When Erik first confessed his love for Berit, I encouraged him to claim land and build a house, hoping it would make it easier for him to win Grena’s consent for their marriage. We had planned to come to you when the house was finished. Obviously that wasn’t soon enough, but it doesn’t change the fact that Erik and Berit love each other and want to marry. Erik had hoped that you would help him convince Grena to allow them to wed. Has what happened made that impossible?”