Surrender To The Viking (13 page)

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Authors: Joanna Fulford

Tags: #Historical Romance, #Medieval Romance, #Romance, #Viking, #Vikings. Love Story, #Warrior, #Warriors

BOOK: Surrender To The Viking
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‘Don’t go. Not yet.’ He reclined against the pillows surveying her steadily. ‘There’s something I must say.’

‘My lord?’

‘I’m so sorry, Lara.’

‘For what?’

‘For dragging you along on this trip against your wishes. For failing to protect you as I should have. For failing to anticipate the enemy and for exposing you to mortal danger. Take your pick of the reasons.’

She regarded him in genuine astonishment. ‘Your reasons for bringing me along were well intentioned. What happened after wasn’t your fault.’

‘You are generous.’

‘But it’s true. You couldn’t read Steingrim’s mind.’

‘I couldn’t read his mind but I should have considered the possibility that he might double back. Five men died for that short-sightedness, and you were almost—’ He broke off, and took a deep breath. ‘I know why you had that sword in your hand, Lara.’

‘You know?’

‘Folkvar hasn’t been slow to spread the word.’

‘Oh.’ She eyed him uncertainly. ‘I know it must seem foolish to you but it was all I could think of at the time.’

His gaze met hers. ‘Aye, it was foolish all right, and clever and quite astonishingly brave.’

She stared at him uncertain she’d just heard aright. However, there was nothing in his expression to suggest he was teasing. The possibility that he might have meant it resurrected a familiar glow inside her.

‘I had to persuade Steingrim to give me a weapon.’


In extremis
, you would have used it on yourself, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes, but it didn’t come to that because you saved me.’

‘Thor’s blood, does that make me a hero now?’

‘It does in my mind,’ she replied.

For a moment he was silent, his face hard to read. She would have given a great deal to know what he was thinking.

‘I don’t deserve the honour,’ he replied, ‘but I promise that I’ll try to do better in future.’

‘I think I could not wish for better.’

Some unidentified emotion flickered in the grey eyes and his gaze became intent.

‘Then...you do not entirely regret ever having set eyes on me?’

‘No, I don’t regret that.’ She smiled faintly. ‘I thought marriage would be dull but it has turned out to be quite the opposite.’

In spite of himself he laughed. ‘I’m sorry, my sweet, but I regret to tell you that I mean to put a stop to that kind of excitement.’

Her smile faded a little as she considered the implications. Did he mean that she would be left behind while he went adventuring? Would she become an inconvenience that he could do without and would forget as soon as she was out of sight?

‘But not to all excitement I hope,’ she replied.

‘No, not all.’

‘That’s a relief.’

‘I should have thought it would be more of a relief to know you were safe.’

‘Safety is one thing—tedium quite another.’

‘I will do my best never to be tedious,’ he replied.

Her eyes met his. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’

‘I hope you will.’

She nodded and rose from her stool. ‘I should go and prepare some more willow-bark tea. Why don’t you get some rest in the meantime?’

* * *

When she had gone Finn turned over that conversation in his mind. He hadn’t missed her altered expression just now or the doubt behind it. What was it that she feared? Not her new role of wife, surely? She had been preparing for that all her life. Was it the thought of being an abandoned wife perhaps? He frowned. He’d made that mistake once before and if Lara imagined he would leave her for months on end she was mistaken. With her he intended to have a very different relationship. Loneliness wasn’t going to feature. On the contrary he intended them to have something much more intimate.

That turned his thoughts in a different direction. Although he hadn’t said so, he hadn’t missed her altered appearance just now. The mauve gown was soft and feminine and it enhanced her elfin beauty. He’d have liked to think it had been for his benefit but he wasn’t so conceited. Lara had done it to please herself and he could not blame her for it. Any woman would prefer to look her best rather than be dragged across the country and forced to live rough among a group of warriors. When he’d insisted upon her accompanying them he had been thoughtless and selfish. He sighed. It seemed he had a lot to atone for one way or another.

* * *

As Lara returned to the hall she met Alrik. He enquired after Finn and looked relieved when she said he was lucid and free of the fever that heralded the onset of wound rot.

‘He’s lucky, then.’

She nodded. ‘The wound was clean. What he requires now is rest and food to build up his strength again.’ She paused. ‘Speaking of which, is there any chance of you taking some men out hunting in the near future? We could do with the meat.’

‘Leave it with me.’

‘Gladly.’

Alrik smiled wryly. ‘You’ve certainly been thrown into deep water, haven’t you? First a war, then a new home, an injured husband and numerous mouths to feed.’

‘I like a challenge.’

‘That’s fortunate, isn’t it?’

‘Ravndal seems to be well organised and the stores still reasonably plentiful.’

‘You’re welcome to use some of the ship’s supplies if you need them,’ he said.

‘I appreciate it. I haven’t really been able to make a proper estimate of the situation yet. I need to have a look in the barn and the granary and the other storage sheds. Then I’ll have the whole picture.’

‘Why don’t we do it now?’

‘Would you mind?’

‘Not at all, if you don’t object to the company.’

‘I’d be glad of it.’

She really was. Alrik was an agreeable companion and he would bring another perspective to the task.

* * *

For the next hour they made a tour of the farm. It bore out her previous assessment that it was well run. Although it wasn’t especially large, the whole place looked quietly prosperous. Lara viewed it with satisfaction. That at least augured well for the future.

Chapter Fourteen

A
s the wound began to knit and Finn regained some strength he began to take note of his appearance.

‘Will you bring me a bowl of water and some soap so that I can wash?’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Even I am beginning to find my own smell offensive.’

Lara grinned. ‘As you wish.’

‘I notice you didn’t contradict me just then so I fear that means I’m right.’

‘Well...’

‘I knew it. Could you fetch a comb as well?’

When she had provided him with the required items Finn gingerly swung his legs over the side of the bed, biting back a curse as his wound twinged. He shifted to a more comfortable position and dragged off his shirt. Then he looked at Lara.

‘Would you mind holding the bowl for me?’

She cleared her throat. ‘Not at all.’

She tried not to stare but the sight of Finn without clothes was difficult to ignore, especially when he was only a foot away from her. Her gaze kept returning to the hard-muscled torso and the line of gold-brown hair leading the eye from his chest to a narrow waist and lean flanks and groin. He was beautiful, like a hero out of a saga. Moreover, he seemed at ease with his body in its naked state, even in the presence of a woman. She wished she could feel the same, but proximity was causing her overheated imagination to conjure all manner of sensual images that did nothing for her peace of mind.

Apparently unaware of the mental turmoil he was causing, Finn bathed his hands and face and then, taking up the cloth provided, moved on to his neck and torso. Glancing up he intercepted her gaze and smiled.

‘I look forward to an hour in the bathhouse eventually.’

She gathered her wits. ‘The wound needs to remain dry for a bit longer.’

‘I’ll make do.’

He took the linen towel from her arm and dried himself. When it was done he rubbed a hand over his chin. ‘I need to get rid of these bristles too.’

‘You could grow a beard.’

‘I tried once but the itching nearly drove me mad.’ He glanced towards the pile of war gear across the room. ‘Would you bring me my seax?’

Lara set the bowl on the stool nearby and went to oblige. Like his sword, the knife was beautifully crafted. The hilt was made of walrus ivory and intricately carved; the blade six inches of polished steel with a wicked edge. She eyed it with misgivings.

‘Is your hand steady enough for the task at present or would you prefer to let me do it?’

‘Are you afraid I might cut my throat?’

‘It’s a possibility, and if that were to happen a cut throat would be much harder to sew up than a leg.’

His eyes gleamed. ‘To be honest I wouldn’t care to put the matter to the test so I’ll bow to your judgement.’

* * *

In fact he was not averse to the idea. Apart from any considerations of safety, the idea of having her close to him was a temptation he didn’t want to resist. So he sat very still, every nerve and sinew attuned to her. She smelled of fresh air and herbs, perhaps from the box where she stored her gowns. Underneath was the scent of the woman, sweet and warm and exciting. As she worked the fabric of her gown brushed his arm sending a charge along his skin. He might almost imagine that the light touch of her hand on his face was a caress. His imagination removed her clothing and drew her down on to the bed beside him, pressing her nakedness to his. The image created a wave of warmth from his gut to his loins. He took a deep breath and forced his mind away. Any more thoughts like those and he would be hard in seconds. In contrast Lara looked perfectly cool and collected, clearly untroubled by any such erotic visions, and the blade continued to glide smoothly over his cheek and jaw. That was just as well under the circumstances. Much as he would have liked to ruffle her serenity now was definitely not the time.

When at length she had done he dried his face and ran a hand over his chin once more. The skin felt smooth and clean again and he smiled.

‘Thank you. That feels much better.’

‘It looks much better,’ she replied.

‘Does that mean you prefer a man without a beard?’

‘It depends on the man. Some faces look better with a beard to hide them.’

‘I hope mine isn’t among them.’

‘No. It is tolerable without.’

‘Only tolerable?’

‘Stop fishing for compliments and comb your hair. It looks as though you’ve been out in a gale for a week.’

He laughed. ‘I can always rely on you to keep me firmly grounded.’

In fact her assessment wasn’t too exaggerated and it took him some time to tease out the tangles and restore order. However, he felt better for having done it. He handed back the comb.

‘Would you fetch me a clean shirt from the chest?’

Lara raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re thinking of getting up then?’

‘That’s right.’ He paused. ‘Were you thinking of arguing about it?’

‘No. I wouldn’t waste time on a lost cause. Besides, gentle exercise probably won’t do you any harm.’

‘You never fail to surprise me.’

She fetched the shirt and a pair of breeks. ‘You’ll need these too. The ones you were wearing before were fit only for the fire.’

Finn donned the shirt and then carefully began to pull on the breeks. ‘I’ll need to stand. Would you lend me a shoulder just in case?’

Lara nodded and moved closer, watching him carefully. Cautiously he stood up, grimacing as the wound sent a fresh twinge of pain along his leg. It didn’t go unnoticed.

‘Is it still bad?’ she asked.

‘Not bad but making its presence felt.’

‘Do you need any help?’

It was tempting. It was very tempting. He wrestled with his baser instinct and reluctantly overcame it. ‘No, I think I can manage.’ He tucked in the shirt and pulled his breeks up the rest of the way before fastening them. ‘Socks and shoes may be a different story.’

He was right about that. Bending and stretching were more than just uncomfortable and he didn’t want to tear the wound. He sat down again and Lara knelt in front of him, her small deft hands sliding hose on to his feet and then fastening his shoes afterwards. Finally she fetched a clean tunic from the chest and watched while he pulled it on before handing him the belt. Then she stepped back, regarding him critically.

‘Well?’ he asked.

‘You’ll do.’ She paused. ‘You might want to use a stick until the leg gets stronger.’

He tried a couple of steps and then nodded. ‘I think you’re right.’

‘I’ll have one of the servants find one for you. In the meantime you’ll have to make do with me.’

‘I’m too heavy to impose on you in that way.’

‘I’m tougher than I look.’ She put an arm around his waist and then glanced up. ‘Ready?’

Finn leaned lightly on her shoulders. ‘Ready if you are.’

They set off slowly. Her slenderness and fragility had never seemed more apparent than now and he made a determined effort to take most of the weight because he was fearful of crushing her otherwise. At the same time her nearness and her warmth acted as an antidote to the discomfort in his leg. It felt good to hold her; good and right.

It was also good to get out of the building and into the fresh air again and, being in no hurry to relinquish her company, he steered her to a bench behind the hall and called a halt for a while. Lara eyed him in concern.

‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m just out of practice, that’s all.’

‘It’s hardly surprising.’

‘It could have been a lot worse. But for you I’m sure it would have been.’ He paused, holding her gaze. ‘I’d like to thank you in my own way.’

The kiss was light, almost tentative, taking account of her cut lip. It looked to be healing well but he didn’t want to risk hurting her so he let his mouth brush hers in an act of gentle homage.

‘I must apologise for yet another tame offering,’ he said, ‘but if I were to kiss you properly it would likely tear your lip again.’

‘Will you kiss me properly when the cut is healed?’

He was very still, his gaze intent. ‘If you want me to.’

‘I do want you to, Finn.’

His heart made a sudden irregular leap. With an effort he controlled his voice. ‘Do you mean that?’

‘Yes, I mean it.’

‘Then you have my word on the matter.’

* * *

Lara had no idea where she’d found the boldness to say such things but now the words were spoken she couldn’t be sorry either, not when her blood was racing from that so-called
tame offering
. She wanted him to do it again, wanted him to kiss her as he had on the day of their wedding, only next time she didn’t want him to stop. The knowledge of what she did want made her blush.

By and by they resumed their walk to the hall to be greeted warmly by those present. In short order Finn was provided with a walking stick so that he could stand independently. She might have slipped away then and left the men to talk but he kept an arm lightly around her waist preventing it. The gesture was by no means unwelcome since she had no real wish to go. Besides, it not only established her significance in the scheme of things but also suggested that he wanted her with him, that her company was congenial to him. She wanted to believe that, to think that she might mean more to him now, that one day his affections would be engaged as well.

* * *

That evening they dined in the hall with everyone else. It pleased her to see Finn in good spirits and keeping up his part in the conversation. There was no doubt that he was glad to be up and about again. Nor could she blame him. Being forced to lie abed was desperately dull but he’d remained surprisingly even tempered throughout.

Although he was enjoying the change of scene and ate with a good appetite, Lara noticed he wasn’t drinking as much as the others, limiting his consumption to two cups of ale. Perhaps in that too he needed to take things slowly. Nor was he inclined to stay late that evening. When she rose to take her leave he came with her, excusing himself from the company with a plea of fatigue. Most of them seemed to accept it, though she noted one or two sceptical smiles. It wasn’t hard to work out which way their imaginations tended either. She smiled ruefully. If they knew the truth, how shocked and disapproving they would be. After all, who would credit that a married man would not insist on his rights from the outset?

Finn could have done that but he hadn’t. He’s not like the others. Suddenly she would very much have liked to know what his motivation was.

* * *

When they returned to his sleeping quarters she helped him undress, gathering his clothing as he removed it and laying it neatly aside. If she’d thought his nakedness disquieting before it became downright disturbing when he was on his feet, not least because the sensations it created were centred on something quite different from fear. Finn slid into bed and, having settled himself comfortably, laced his hands behind his head and looked on as Lara began to make her own preparations for the night.

It wasn’t the first time she had undressed in front of him but now anger and resentment were entirely absent. She wanted his interest; wanted to increase his curiosity and to stimulate his desire. For perhaps the hundredth time she found herself wishing for experience in these matters but all she had to go on was instinct. So, unhurriedly, she began to undress, unfastening her girdle and removing the overdress and gown.
Is he watching?
She couldn’t look up to check; couldn’t make it so obvious. When she was down to her shift she turned away a little and then bent to remove her stockings taking good care to offer him several seconds’ view of her lower leg in the process.
Is he looking?
Laying the stockings aside with her other garments she took up her comb and strolled back to the pallet, keeping the lamp behind her. The stuff of her shift was thin and with any luck the light would make it semi-transparent.
If he notices, of course.
With every assumption of casual ease she sat down to comb her hair.

* * *

Finn’s gaze never left the quiet figure across the room, his entire being aroused by the sight of that casual disrobing. It was sensual and provocative and if he hadn’t known better he might have thought it deliberate. That was nonsense of course. Nonsense or not, by the time she’d got as far as her stockings he could feel the familiar coil of hot tension form in his groin. The glimpse of her figure backlit by the lamp only intensified the sensation. She had barely begun on her hair before he felt himself growing hard. Mentally he finished undressing her and laid her down on the pallet with the fiery mass of hair spread around her shoulders... He bit his lip to stifle a groan.

* * *

As she worked she took care not to look at Finn directly, pretending to be totally absorbed in her task. However, she could feel the weight of his attention now. The very atmosphere was charged with it. Her flesh tingled in response. The sensation travelled all the way from her breasts to the place between her thighs.

She risked a glance his way. Her breath caught in her throat as the grey eyes locked with hers. She needed no experience to read the expression there now. It thrilled through her, hot, avid and dangerously exciting.
When you decide you want to become a real woman let me know.
She laid aside the comb. Then, without taking her eyes off him, she slowly removed the shift. The result was a sharp indrawn breath from the direction of the bed. Pulse racing, she got to her feet and crossed the room.

Finn threw back the edge of the coverlet and then eased himself across the mattress to give her room to join him. She slid in beside him. The linen was warm where he had lain; warm too the strong hands reaching for her waist. His mouth brushed hers but in deference to her damaged lip didn’t linger there, moving lower instead, his breath feathering her skin as he nuzzled her neck and throat. Her breathing quickened. Gods, how could she have guessed how good this would feel?
Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.
As if in answer to the thought she felt him tug gently at the lobe of her ear and then the tip of his tongue probed a little deeper sending a delicious shiver the length of her body.

The pad of his thumb brushed the peak of one breast. The sensation was exquisite. As the caress continued, the nipple hardened swiftly in response. Lowering his head he took the peak of her breast in his mouth, circling it with his tongue, teasing, sucking, creating a ripple of pleasure in its wake.
How did he do that?
How do I arouse him?

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