Love's Captive Heart - Page 12

His curious glance swept her face slowly. “Where do you wish to be?”

She held his gaze. “I have no desire ever to return to Raktor’s home, although Olgrethe was always kind to me. You say you do not want me, and there is no way I can reach France. I am lost and alone no matter where I am, my future bleak no matter in which direction the storm has tossed us.”

He pointed to the mouth of the small cave. “The sun, when I could see it, was to our right, therefore we are on Raktor’s side, but how close we are to his home I cannot say. We may be far from his docks, or they may be just around the next bend. In the morning I will go out and see what I can find.”

His voice softened as he explained, “That is what I do best. I prefer exploring new lands to pillaging the known world.”

Encouraged by his tender tone as well as his words, she offered a plan. “We could steal one of Raktor’s ships. They are not all as large as the Dragon, and perhaps there is one we could sail back to your home.”

Mylan found her suggestion ludicrous. “I thought you were a lady’s maid, not a mariner. Do you even know how to sail, no matter what size the vessel?”

She blushed under his sarcastic teasing, but did not give in. “No, but I could help you. You could tell me what to do.”

“Why would you wish to help me?” he asked skeptically.

“I did not understand all the words of the ceremony yesterday, but is a Viking’s wife not expected to assist her husband in every way possible?”

“That ceremony was a farce. I’ve been tricked most cruelly, Celiese. I am not your husband; you are a slave, and I will sell you at my first opportunity. You will command a high price, and I mean to receive it, although that won’t begin to repay the wrong you’ve done me.”

“I will leave you now then, go back into the sea to drown, since I have no future worth living.” She attempted to rise, but he gripped her narrow waist firmly to pull her back down beside him.

That she was so spirited a creature continually amazed him, but he found her far too intriguing to lose in so foolish a fashion. He kissed her cheek lightly before his lips found hers, and when she returned his kiss with an affection he found impossible to resist he drew away, sighing sadly. “If only it could have been real, Celiese, why couldn’t you have really been my wife?”

Surprised by his suddenly subdued mood as well as by his unexpected kiss, she whispered softly, and then held her breath as his fingertips began to tease the tip of her breast. “I am really your wife. Why do you insist I am not when we found such perfect happiness together?” The damp folds of her tattered gown offered little barrier to his touch, and the thrill was the same, a rush of warmth that began in her loins and spread the length of her chilled limbs. She drew him into her arms, covered his face with sweet kisses as his hands slipped beneath her gown.

He knew her body well now, and his tantalizing caress grew bold until she was lost again upon the tide of his cresting passion. She clung to him, no longer fearing his strength, for he gave such delicious pleasure before taking his own that she would never cease to adore him. Her sweet affection enveloped him in love, flooding his senses with a pleasure so deep he could n

ot release her but kept her clasped in his embrace until the pale light of dawn entered their rocky confines, bringing the harsh reality of their plight into sharp focus. The magic of the night receded to become no more than a lovely memory.

Mylan kissed the ugly purple bruise marring the creamy skin of Celiese’s left side. “This is far worse than I had feared. Surely your ribs are cracked, and there is nothing I can do to help you here.” His tone was as tender as his kiss, smooth and warm, for he found her delicate body so delightful he did not want to see her come to any harm.

“The pain is not so intense today, a few broken ribs will not kill me.” She ran her fingertips through his thick curls to draw him near as he again caressed her breast in a lingering kiss. She longed to ask if he still meant to send her away, but could not bear to hear his reply. He filled her body so completely with his love, but had she still failed to move his heart? She held him tenderly in her arms and hoped he would speak of love, but he continued to savor her luscious curves without offering the slightest of compliments or promises, and when at last he drew away his mind was on far more practical matters.

“Here is your gown; there is little left of it, but put it on quickly.” He watched closely as she slipped on the pale garment, and then took her hands to lead her out through the entrance of the cave. “If I climb the bluff just ahead I may be able to see. I know my own coastline well, but not this one, although I hope to see something that will help me establish our location.”

“Be careful, the way is steep and you might fall,” she cautioned anxiously.

Her comment brought a disapproving frown to his brow. “I will not fall. If I am no longer as agile as a spider, my leg will still hold up for that short climb. Do not tire yourself with needless worry about me.”

“I had forgotten your injuries, I meant only for you to take care,” she replied softly. She found his height and strength so reassuring she had forgotten his scars covered injuries not fully healed.

Mylan turned away without speaking, then did indeed go up the rocky incline above them with the ease he had promised. But when he disappeared from view over the top she doubted he would take the trouble to come back for her. She could not climb unassisted, and as far as she could see the shore was littered with rocks, making the walk along even the level terrain treacherous. She was afraid she would have to remain where she was no matter where Mylan went. She rubbed her arms to ward off the chill. The sea had grown calm again, but how could they catch any fish with no implements? They had not even a knife to fashion a spear if they could find a piece of wood.

When Mylan reappeared he scrambled down the rocks and ran to her side, his gait uneven but swift. “Come with me. There is a guard nearbyâ??if you will distract him I can seize his sword.”

“Distract him?” She moved away from his grasp. “I can imagine how you wish me to accomplish that. What benefit will a sword be to us when Raktor sends a squad of twenty men to find the one who is missing?”

His amber eyes widened in astonishment. “The man let you plan his strategy for raids, did he? You are an expert on how to fight as well as making love? If you are so clever a warrior, why did you not kill me yourself when you had the chance?”

She shuddered at that gruesome query. “I am no expert on anything other than survival, but think, if we kill one man and steal his sword how have we gotten any closer to your home? All we will have done is alerted Raktor to our presence.”

Mylan sat down, folded his arms across his knees, and glared out at the sea. “Raktor has warriors aplenty, and I have but one beautiful woman who refuses to help me disarm a man so I might have a weapon.”

“I would seduce Raktor’s entire force if it would help you, but it would not. If he has guards posted he must be expecting some retaliation for the attack upon your home. I did not know the prisonersâ??who did he take and who were left behind who might come to our rescue?” She knelt down beside her husband and waited patiently while he sat silently considering her question before replying.

“Two of my brothers are away, gone trading to Kaupang. My father was wounded, but how severely I do not know. You met Erik, at sixteen he is not half the man I was at his age. He enjoys playing the jester to amuse us more than anything else, but he may be able to command such a force of men if my father is able to give him assistance.”

“Will your brothers be home soon?” She pushed her hair away from her face, but the breeze tossed her curls carelessly about, blocking her vision once again.

Tags: Phoebe Conn Historical
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