Redeeming Her Viking Warrior

* * *

Danr pressed his hands against his knees, watching as Erika-Bersa walked with long, purposeful strides towards the roundhouse. He felt very aware of his surroundings all of a sudden, of the crackle and hiss of the fire, of the scorching heat that seemed to have just flared out of it, of the strange absence of breeze in the air and the almost uncanny stillness of the trees around them. Most of all he was aware of her, his nerves attuned to every movement she made. It was a long time since he’d been aware of any woman. Now he wondered if she’d been as aware of him as he’d been of her. Her abrupt departure made him suspect that she had.

It had been an enjoyable evening after another enjoyable day. He’d been feeling somewhat triumphant, too, since he’d finally succeeded in coaxing a smile out of her. Laughter even. It had been like a burst of sunshine, more dazzling and rewarding than just about any smile he’d ever seen before. They’d established a friendship of sorts, too, even if he still didn’t know her name. He’d thought about asking her this as his prize, except that he’d had a feeling that doing so would have disturbed the new harmony between them. It seemed bizarre to keep calling her Erika-Bersa, but if that was what she wanted then it would have to do.

He got up and hauled the pelt over his makeshift shelter. It felt strange spending time in the company of a woman again, especially such an unusual one. She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever spent time with before. She wasn’t beautiful or flirtatious. She didn’t speak teasing words or give him coy glances. She didn’t do anything to attract him, yet all day he’d found himself unable to resist looking at her. She ought to have been easy to resist. She was all hard lines and sharp angles, but he still found himself wanting to look at her. Wanting to be close to her, too.

When they’d been playing knuckle sticks he’d actually found himself swaying towards her, just as he had in the cave, his face moving instinctively towards hers as if he wanted to kiss her. He’d pulled away again the moment he’d realised, but he’d had to stop himself several times from doing it again.

As she’d sat beside the fire pit, her grey eyes had looked alluringly smoky, too, deep and mysterious and altogether too dangerous for him to look into for long. Then when their fingers had touched he’d felt a powerful impulse to clasp on to them and hold tight. It was confusing. Of all the women he’d seen over the past three years, she was surely one of the least memorable, and yet she interested him. Odder still, she comforted him. Not deliberately, of course—he suspected she would still rather see the back of him—but somehow just by being there. Her very presence was comforting. But it was probably just because she’d saved his life and he felt safe with her, that was all. Maybe there was a mild attraction, mild to moderate even, but that was irrelevant. He had no intention of acting upon it...did he?

No! He frowned at the momentary lapse. Even if he hadn’t made an oath, he was in her debt twice over. She’d saved his life and she was giving him shelter. He wouldn’t repay her with anything less than honourable behaviour. He wouldn’t degrade her by thinking of her in that way either. It was already obvious that she was worth ten of him—ten hundred of him. He was only alive because she’d saved and protected him. The best thing he could do now was put all thoughts of her out of his mind and go to sleep—and try very hard not to dream of grey eyes and a wild crown of silver-blonde hair.

Chapter Eight

Danr yawned, stretched and then crawled out from beneath his shelter, relieved that none of the haphazardly arranged branches had collapsed upon him during the night. A thin layer of mist hung over the treetops, chilling the air, coating the branches in dampness and blocking all but the most persistent rays of watery daylight. Just as Erika-Bersa had predicted, the weather had changed again, making it impossible to see beyond the edge of the clearing. It wasn’t a particularly promising start to the morning, but perhaps it was a useful jolt back to reality. Despite his best intentions, his dreams had been altogether too lucid and at least the cold was distracting.

He ran his hands over his face, ruffled his hair and then wandered away towards the river to wash. Leaves rustled behind him and he turned to find Halvar following close at his heels. He smiled at the sight. The wolf’s large, silent presence reminded him in a funny way of Rurik. He wasn’t sure his twin brother would appreciate the comparison, but he found it comforting. And there was that word again: comforting. Since when had being comforted become so important to him?

‘Good morning.’ He held out a hand, letting the wolf nudge its wet nose against his wrist. ‘You know, I always thought Maerr was a damp place, but I’ve never seen mists like these. I feel like I’m walking through clouds.’ He rubbed his hand over the animal’s head and then carried on towards the gorge, yawning a few more times as he descended the slope. ‘Is your mistress still sleeping? Then we’ll bathe first today, shall we?’

The words had barely left his mouth when he saw her. She was standing straight ahead of him in one of the pools below a small waterfall, hip-deep in water and without as much as a shift to cover her nakedness. She was also, he could see, oblivious to his arrival, which still gave him an opportunity to leave...

He stood immobile, ordering himself to retreat and yet apparently unable to do so. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to lift either one of his feet off the ground. His eyes were being similarly disobedient, riveted on her slim figure as she crouched down, dipping her whole body under the water for a few seconds, then stood up and tossed her head from side to side, sending a spray of water all the way through the air to his feet.

He swallowed, assailed by a rush of pure lust as she ran her hands through the long, waist-length tresses, wringing out the droplets and then drawing the bulk of it over one shoulder. Her body was just as lean and angular and spear-like as he’d thought the first time he’d seen her, without as much as a hint of any womanly curve, yet now it struck him as the most erotic, enticing figure he’d ever seen.

Moon’s eye! He hadn’t as much as looked at a woman in three years. There had been opportunities enough, but they’d all left him cold. Whereas now...now he was mesmerised. Why now? Why with this woman? He felt as though all the blood in his body had just rushed straight to his groin.

He was still ordering his legs to move when she looked over her shoulder at him, just a brief glance before she bent over, allowing him a tantalising view of her posterior as she scooped some water into her cupped hands and then scrubbed them over her face.

‘I’m sorry...’ He croaked the words

out, though for once he didn’t know what else to say. She twisted slightly towards him as if expecting more, but he seemed utterly incapable of further speech. His throat was dry, his groin was painfully hard and his eyes were transfixed by the drops of water pouring in glistening rivulets down her body, over her breasts and towards the crease between her legs... He finally succeeded in dragging his gaze away, half-expecting her to scream at him for staring, but having noted his arrival she didn’t seem to be paying him much attention at all, as if she didn’t particularly object to his scrutiny either. It was almost too much temptation to bear. He might have preferred it if she’d screamed at him...

‘You’re awake early,’ she said at last, striding out of the water and reaching for a piece of linen hanging from a nearby branch.

‘Yes.’ He shook his head, trying to think of something else to say. Trying to remember any words at all. ‘I thought you were still asleep.’

She shrugged and started to dry herself down with rough, vigorous strokes. Too rough, Danr thought, staring again as he watched the movement of the linen. If she gave it to him, then he could do a much better job. He’d soothe her skin instead of turning it red with scrubbing. He’d use his hands and mouth, too, rubbing and licking the moisture away... The idea almost made him groan aloud. Just when he’d thought he couldn’t get any harder... The urge to touch her was so great that he had to clench his fists to stop himself reaching out to stroke the side of her hip.

‘What is it?’ She looked up suddenly, a small crease between her brows. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘What?’ He jerked his head up quickly. How could he answer that? He was behaving as if he’d never seen a naked woman in his life, like a boy instead of a man with far too many years of experience, while she...well, she was obviously an innocent, even more than he’d suspected. She seemed not to have not the faintest inkling of the effect she was having on him, which was a relief since she’d probably tell him to leave straight away if she did.

‘I was just...looking.’ He winced inwardly. Just looking? They were arguably the most pathetic words he’d ever said to a woman. No attempt at an excuse. Nothing about her beauty or desirability either. Just looking?

Fortunately, she seemed not to find anything strange about them, pulling a tunic over her head—thank the stars!—and then striding towards him.

‘What are you doing?’ He leapt backwards as she lifted a hand towards his injured arm.

‘Checking your wound.’ She gave him a look that suggested he must have taken a blow to the head. ‘The cut should have closed by now.’

‘Oh.’ He let out a shaky breath. ‘Maybe we should do that later. You must be cold.’

‘I don’t think about the temperature. It’s the best way.’

‘Really?’ He was starting to feel desperate, his own temperature soaring so high he felt as though he were standing next to a bonfire. ‘Maybe we should wait a few more days just in case?’