Heart of a Viking Read online

  But with Keita he felt capable of anything.

  She wrapped her legs around him, creating the most perfect cocoon. His heart pounded in his chest while pleasure seared through him. She gasped his name and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Valhalla had nothing on being buried inside Keita. He’d happily die and spend the rest of his days between her legs.

  Tension began to ripple through her body as he worked against her. Her hands slipped up to grip his arms and she pressed her fingers into his bunched muscles in a silent plea. Moving onto an elbow, he angled himself so he could skim a finger over her nub while he continued to work into her. His movements were not as perfect as he’d have liked them to be—blinding pleasure washing through him ensured that—but she responded with ease. Already, he was learning this woman’s body. Already, they were so in tune with one another.

  He gritted his teeth. “Keita, cannot...I must...” He pushed deep inside her and gave her bud a flick. His explosive climax tore through him and he closed his eyes. In response, her body tightened and released. In the distance, he heard her call his name.

  Thorarin opened his eyes when the sharpest pleasure had vanished. He dropped a kiss to her nose and remained settled inside of her. He was not sure he could move. Never before had he felt so sated and satisfied.

  Finally persuading himself to move, he eased to her side and urged her to face him. Because of the narrow width of the pallet, he had to wrap his arms about her to tuck her against him. Her unsteady breaths whispered across his beard.

  “Are you well?”

  “Aye, very well.”

  He heard a smile in her voice and moved his head back enough to view it. The sight of her, lips puffy, hair wild, the tiny curve on her mouth sent his heart rattling against his ribs. He vowed to make her look like that again this night.

  “I could resist no longer,” he admitted. Then he pushed back her hair with a hand and cupped her face. “You will not try to escape again will you?”

  She shook her head. “I know I was likely doomed to fail.”

  “Then why try?”

  “It seemed all hope had gone. You would not even look at me. What kept me here?”

  He cursed low and soft. “Forgive me.”

  Keita shrugged in his hold. “You owe me nothing.”

  “I owe you everything now.” He looked hard at her until she met his gaze. “You shall get your freedom, Keita, that much I vow.”

  Her responding smile was sad, as if she did not believe him.

  “I swear it. I shall grant you your freedom.”

  “Thorarin, you do not own me. As much as you Vikings might think taking a woman means making her his, you have no say over my fate.”

  “I did not take you because I wanted to own you,” he muttered.

  “I know.” She kissed his cheek.

  “But I will make you a free woman. Once Ragni is...” He blew out a breath. What to tell her? He’d already placed her in grave danger by taking away the one thing that had saved her. Was he going to add to that by telling her of his plans?

  But he needed to give her hope. She needed to know he hadn’t taken her innocence without thought for her future.

  “Once Ragni is dead, I shall ensure your freedom.”

  She blinked at him. “Once he is dead? You mean to kill him?”

  “Já, soon enough.”

  “Nay, it is too dangerous. You cannot kill a járl. Why would you? The risk is too great.”

  “I must regain my honour, Keita.”

  “You have honour. You are the most honourable man I have ever met.”

  He swallowed hard. The way she looked at him, he could almost believe it. But his honour would only be returned once Ragni was dead and his family was avenged. “Ragni must die.”

  “And when it is found out you have killed him?”

  “Fear not, I will ensure no one cares for the loss.”

  She narrowed her gaze at him. “This is why you stole the money? Why you are working for the villagers?”

  “Já. The villagers are already dissatisfied with his rule. They have been for some time. I should know well enough, I grew up here.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “This was your home?”

  “Before I was banished, já.”

  “So that is why you want revenge? What happened?”

  He drew in a long breath and held it in his chest. Aside from Anki and his parents, none knew of the true version of events. He’d kept it to himself all these years, replaying the moments over and over in his mind, imagining what he could have done instead.

  “I was young, learning my father’s skill. I was no warrior. I had no courage.” Thorarin closed his eyes briefly. It was odd how he had seen blood many times since, even spilled it himself, yet nothing lingered in his mind as sharply as when he found Ragni beating his son to death. “Ragni had another son, just two summers older than myself. He was already growing into a good man. The villagers liked and respected him and he fought well. I longed to be like him.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “Ragni has a temper as you well know. His son did not like the way Ragni dispensed justice and after a girl had received a severe beating for refusing a marriage Ragni had arranged, his son, Fálki, tried to speak with the járl. The girl’s family and the villagers were angered by his actions and they had begun to show support for Fálki. It was said that they hoped he would take his place, even though he was but a young man.”

  “Ragni knew this?”

  “Já. And when Fálki confronted his father about his behaviour, Ragni struck him down. Had it been a fair fight, I have no doubt Fálki would have won, but he attacked him from behind and his son would not raise arms against his father.”

  “You saw this?”

  He glanced down at her hand that was currently stroking his bare arm. The soft touch worked inside him and seemed to loosen something tight inside his chest.

  “Já. I was in the longhouse store room at the time, delivering a storage chest my father had carved. I heard the fight but I hid.” He shook his head. “I should have done something but all I did was hide.”

  “You were too young. What could you have done against a man like Ragni.”

  “Fálki died. He was beaten to the ground and his own father stomped on him until he was nothing but a bloody mess. I should have done something.”

  Keita did not say anything else, simply pressed a kiss to his lips and curled a hand around the back of his head to hold him tight. Another knot of tight anguish gave way with her simple touch.

  “What happened afterwards?” she finally asked.

  “Ragni spotted me and when several villagers entered the longhouse, he told them I had killed his son.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “Of course, it seemed unlikely a boy like me could attack someone like Fálki. Few believed Ragni but none would go against him. My father was a well-respected man and he asked for my life to be spared. I believe the járl knew he would have an uprising on his hands if he condemned me to death so instead I was banished forever.”

  “So you left and settled with a wife and child?”

  “Neinn. There was no wife and child. It took me a long time to learn to be a warrior. For many years, I raided with others, learning to fight and defend myself. I continued to practice my father’s skill and learned to live off the land. All the while, I planned my return. Then I learned that my parents had been killed in a fire. My plans turned to revenge.”

  “Thorarin...I am so sorry. You believe they were killed by Ragni? That it was not an accident?”

  “Já. I know well it was not. They knew the truth about him. They could not live.”

  The haze of bitter memories dispersed when he heard her sniffle. He noted the trickle of tears seeping down her cheeks and brushed them away. “Forgive me, Keita. I meant not to upset you. I am worth no tears.”

  She drew in a snuffly breath. “You are worth a lot, Thorarin. I wish you would recon
sider your plans. You could be free from all this. You have great skills and I am sure your parents would not have wished this fate on you, to be so eaten up with revenge.”

  “My father would wish me to maintain my honour.”

  “Would living as a carpenter not be an honourable life?”

  “It would. After I have seen through my plans.” He used his thumb to brush another tear away. “You cannot understand what honour is to a Norseman. He must see it through or else his whole existence is tainted. But I swear, when I have seen this through, I shall ensure your freedom. You can return home.”

  Keita did not offer him the wide hopeful smile he longed to see. Instead she nodded slowly. Perhaps she was disappointed he would not take action now.

  “You must be patient if you want your freedom, Keita. Do not try to escape again. Ragni will only send people after you. Just wait.”

  She burrowed her head against his neck and did not say anything. Thorarin had little idea if she really would wait but he prayed so. If she tried to escape again, she’d end up dead or dragged back and punished severely. He could not even bear to think about it. All he wanted of her was to continue as she had for a short while longer.

  If anything it gave him more incentive to see through his plans. Not only would he regain his honour but he’d free the woman who now knew him better than anyone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Keita tried to keep the smile from her face. What did she really have to smile about anyway? But no matter how hard or menial or tired the labour made her, she couldn’t stop recalling Thorarin’s touches and tender words. Who knew lovemaking could be like that? And with a Viking?

  Fina brushed past her, carrying some platters. She dumped them on the wooden table of the storeroom, making the pots on it rattle. “You had better stop smiling like that. The járl has a foul temper this morning.”

  She’d already heard him bellow at some men so she knew full well he was in no fine mood. The likelihood was someone would get hurt today when Ragni lashed out in anger. And now she understood the full extent of it. Driven by jealousy, he’d struck his son and killed him. And let Thorarin take the blame.

  She still had unanswered questions about that. Had he really changed that much that Ragni did not recognise him? Though she supposed Ragni, in his arrogance, would never believe a banished boy would be so bold as to return.

  “Take those plates out to be washed,” Fina ordered, snapping her from her thoughts. She might not have played any tricks on her as late but the daggered looks continued as did the spiteful words.

  None of them would matter today. She still had many concerns over Thorarin and even herself but that one moment of happiness continued to drive her forward. Keita only hoped she would be able to snatch some more. As dangerous as their liaison might be, she couldn’t help but want more.

  “Keita.” the woman snapped.

  “Aye, I am taking them.” She gathered up the platters.

  “Not so special now, are you? Watch yourself, Keita, you are losing your power.”

  Keita carried the dirty plates outside and threw them into the large wash bowl. She snatched the cloth and began to clean the grime away from each of them. Fina was right, she was losing her power. Ragni no longer viewed her as good luck or special. Who knew how much longer she would remain in a protected position? If she could survive long enough, Thorarin would help her gain her freedom. For now, it was safest to wait.

  But for how long?

  Her fate had been entwined with Thorarin’s from the moment he stepped into the settlement. His actions that had caused so much trouble for Ragni were also causing her problems. The chances were Ragni would have tired of her being protected eventually anyway but Thorarin had helped the járl lose trust in her whether he intended that or not.

  She knew he didn’t. That man, she was beginning to suspect, would do a lot for her. However, he wouldn’t give up his plans for revenge.

  Swiping the back of her hand across her forehead to push aside her hair, she finished washing the last of the plates and stacked them ready to take back inside.

  Dread swirled in the pit of her stomach. He played such a dangerous game. Until he had begun helping the villagers, talk of his entry to the village and how he’d so quickly become Ragni’s trusted man had circulated. There were likely a few remaining who had their suspicions. Now, however, most liked Thorarin. Many respected him. It would be easy to gain their favour and offer himself as a replacement for Ragni.

  How did the járl not see this?

  She picked up the plates and carried them back inside to stow them away. Keita took a moment to brace her palms against the scarred wood.

  She pressed her hands into the grooves until they stung. Somehow she needed to continue as usual. Be the perfect, innocent princess, even while she knew she was not. Somehow she had to fool Ragni just as Thorarin had.

  She shook her head at herself. He’d had ten years to plan this. It was no wonder the járl was in ignorance. He’d already been out of touch with his people and so arrogant in his position. He’d never suspect someone would want to turn his people against him when he offered that person riches and power.

  Swiping her palms down her gown, she headed into the main hall. Ragni had finished his food and dismissed his men but remained seated at the table while he eyed a missive. He spared her a glance.

  “Ӧll.” he demanded.

  She gave a dip and hurried to retrieve a jug of the drink from the side. Keita brought the jug over and poured a generous amount. Her hands shook as she did so. She tried to keep them still but it seemed as soon as she was in Ragni’s presence, memories of what she had done, of the very gravity of her actions swamped her. Would he know? Could he tell? The trembling increased and ӧll sloshed over the edge of the cup.

  Ragni swore in Norse and stood, his chair creaking backward. The jug fell from her numb fingers and liquid spilled up her gown and onto the floor. Before she could kneel to pick it up, a hand curled around her upper arm. Another hand came about her neck, just above her collar. Fingers pressed into the tender flesh there and though a sound of shock tried to escape her, the hard press of his hand prevented it.

  “Stupid, useless thrall.” His words were in her language so she knew he intended for her to find terror in his words. “You have brought me nothing but bad luck. I should have sold you on when I had the chance. Or better yet—”

  A cough sounded from the entrance. Ragni twisted his head and Keita peered over his shoulder to see Thorarin. The járl turned away, ignoring him but Keita saw the darkness in his gaze. She noted the tension in his body and the way his mouth tightened. Fury simmered from him.

  “I’m of a mind to tear that gown from you,” Ragni spat. “To find out just how pure you really are.”

  She shook her head vigorously, while connecting her gaze briefly with Thorarin’s. The járl would never know but the plea hadn’t been to Ragni. Thorarin must not react. He could not. He would give them both away and as liked as he was, he was not yet in a position of power. He would never get away with harming Ragni.

  He curled his fists at his side while Ragni’s fingers near burned into her throat. She fought to take in air.

  “My járl,” Thorarin tried.

  The grip on her neck eased. Ragni narrowed his gaze at her. Blood roared in her ears. Did he know? Her heart gave a fearful jolt.

  He knew. He had to. He’d seen her imploring look Thorarin’s way or had understood why Thorarin was trying to distract him. They were doomed.

  “Make yourself useful,” he spat at her. “Clean up and take the clothes down to the river to wash.”

  She nodded frantically and the hold on her neck and arm released. The imprint of fingers remained, hot and bruising. Keita kept her gaze down lest she glance Thorarin’s way. Her stomach bunched tight while she cleaned up the mess she’d created and bent to collect the jug.

  Thorarin sat next to the járl but even in the periphery of her vision, she could see
his body was riddled with tension. How he had managed to sit there so many nights while knowing what Ragni did, she knew not. Now she had made things harder for him. She couldn’t help regret that.

  “We are to raid with the next new moon,” Ragni announced.

  The bunching of her stomach tightened. That was only four days away. If Thorarin went to raid, he could die. She’d seen how easily ships were lost at sea. What if he drowned or was killed by one of her people? She continued to wipe down the table and made a show of clearing away the last remaining crumbs of the meal in a bid to listen for longer.

  “I will lead it,” Thorarin said confidently.

  “Já, you shall. The ships will need to be made ready. You must go down to the river and ensure they are fully stocked and prepared. We will send out both and make for Ireland. I have need of a goodly amount of coin.”

  “For the taxes?”

  “Já.”

  Keita heard the tightness in his voice but Thorarin remained entirely calm. She couldn’t fathom how he could lie with such ease to the man responsible for separating him from his family. Now he had no one, much like her. No wonder she’d always felt so drawn to him. They were both alone thanks to Ragni.

  “I shall not fail you, my járl. I will return with more than enough wealth.”

  Ragni slapped a hand to his back. “Do well and you shall be highly rewarded, Thorarin. You have proved to be quite the ally.”

  “You are generous, my járl.”

  “And I am benevolent. If you remain loyal.”

  “I am at your service,” Thorarin promised. “I am grateful for everything that you have bestowed on me, my járl. You shall not regret this decision.”

  Keita turned away and gathered up the clothing for washing. How did he speak so? And how did Ragni not see this talk for what it was? But then did she not do the same? She had persuaded him that she was at his service, if only to bring him luck. The man couldn’t comprehend anyone functioning in any manner but to serve him.