Heart of a Viking Read online

  So he forced himself to slow down and eased her over to the ground next to him. The crop around them crushed to mould around their bodies, hiding them from view.

  “Roll over,” he told her.

  “Thorarin?” She frowned but did as he said, offering him her back and rear.

  He drew up her skirt and eyed the soft flesh of her rear. Another groan nearly left his throat. He hooked an arm around her and coaxed her into the cradle of his body. Then he lifted her leg to hook it over his, opening her to him. When he lined himself up with her and inched in, her body trembled. He kissed the side of her face and closed his eyes to relish the sensation of her body enclosing him. Never was there a moment more perfect.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Keita had expected Thorarin to take her impatiently when he’d laid her down. She’d wanted it. Her body might be sore and still unused to having a man inside her yet she did not care. Being joined with him would be worth every moment of discomfort. She would have offered herself up to him in any manner because as long as they were together, it didn’t seem to matter.

  However, somehow he’d curbed his impatience. Now he slipped into her with such tenderness it made her heart want to burst. The corn tickled her breasts and the scent of fresh air and the soap that Thorarin used surrounded her. But what she truly relished was his strong arm about her, the way his thick thigh flattened to hers.

  His beard brushed her cheek and his lips pressed against her skin. He continued to move cautiously inside her but she didn’t feel he was holding back. It seemed to her he was simply doing as she was—enjoying every sweet, blissful moment of their joining. With the slow pace, she could feel him invade her inch by inch until they were as one.

  He retreated slightly, his grip still strong about her. That sense of protection surrounded her but there was more this time. A notion of being cherished. When had she ever been cherished in her life since her mother’s death? Never. She’d been a product to be bartered and sold. She still was, she supposed. But for these few brief moments, she could be something else.

  Keita gripped his arm and felt the tense muscles there. Beneath her fingertips, his pulse pounded through his body. So much strength and yet he treated her like a delicate butterfly.

  She began to work her hips, moving with him so that each thrust went that little bit deeper. The hand about her waist moved down to touch her core. Tiny sparks of pleasure ignited along with the warm, almost aching sensation deep inside her. How long they made love like this, she knew not. In some ways, it felt like they were there for an eternity, finding out about each other’s bodies, learning how the pleasure could build and build, and in other ways, it wasn’t long enough.

  They made love until they were both on the brink. Thorarin kept up the slow pace.

  “Keita,” he said, her name a warning that he was close. She could tell by the raspy quality to it.

  “Thorarin,” she replied, conveying the same message.

  He worked his finger over her bud and the sparks soon burned to life. He need only to brush it a few times along with several deep thrusts and the crest broke, washing over her. She stiffened and let it flood her senses before releasing. While she gathered her breath, Thorarin gave several more strokes and withdrew. He released a harsh sound that told her he had spilled.

  They lay there for several moments, gathering their breath. He brushed aside her mussed hair and used a hand under her chin to coax her to kiss him. The light brush of his lips told her so much. She didn’t know what lay in the future for them now, what he would do after he had fulfilled his pledge of revenge but that hope burst bright in her chest once more. She put a hand to her chest and frowned. Keita looked down.

  “My necklace.”

  It took Thorarin a couple of moments to comprehend what she had meant. When he finally grasped that her necklace was missing, he helped cover her up and did up his trousers.

  “It may have fallen off while you were working.” His brow furrowed. “I do not recall seeing it when you were on top of me.”

  Heat rushed furiously into her cheeks as she considered how she’d been straddled across his hips. But it dampened quickly when she considered her mother’s necklace was gone. They searched the area in which she’d been working but there was no sign of it. She drew in a shaky breath and tried not to let the shimmering tears in her eyes escape.

  Thorarin put a hand to her arm. “We shall find it, do not fear. But I think it is not here.”

  She suspected he was right. They had searched the area well and the crop was crushed enough for them to be able to spot it with ease. A voice nearby made her whirl and Thorarin ducked down.

  “Keita, I must leave you. I shall see you this night.”

  She nodded. He kissed her firmly and left. When she peered around, she saw two thralls not far from their position. Her heart did a little jolt. They had been so close to being discovered. Taking up her basket, she set back to work in case any of them came upon her. To them, she would appear as though she had been working hard, her cheeks flushed and her skin sheening. They would have little idea that she had just been making love to a Viking.

  A Viking she cared for more than she could dare to think on.

  Keita continued her labour until the sun cast amber streams of light across the field. She gathered up her baskets and did another search of the area for her necklace. It was likely in the longhouse, she assured herself. Or in the store room. She wouldn’t panic yet. Thorarin had assured her they would find it and they would. If anyone discovered it, he would find out soon enough, she was certain.

  She carried the baskets back to the store room, a little breathless from all the exertion of the day. Her feet pounded and her arms ached. However, that wouldn’t stop her seeing Thorarin this night. Fina spotted her and came over.

  “The járl wishes to see you right away. We have Knut the merchant dining tonight.”

  Keita nodded, brushed her hands down her gown and attempted to comb her fingers through her hair. The likelihood was Ragni wished to show off his ‘pure one’ as usual. She was sweaty and fatigued and likely looked nothing like a princess but there was little she could do about that.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she walked into the hall and came to Ragni’s side. The merchant was of similar size to Thorarin but not as muscled. His belly brushed the table and he was not a young man. He ate with vigour as though he hadn’t eaten in days. Thorarin sat to his side and the differences between them could not be more extreme. Here was a handsome, strong, fearsome example of a warrior—a man who believed so deeply in honour he would spend ten years of his life planning to regain it.

  This wasn’t the first time the merchant had visited the settlement and she knew well he was reputed for being greedy and for taking advantage of any situation he could. Perhaps he intended to take advantage of Ragni in his poor state though she couldn’t see what he would gain from visiting.

  Thorarin spared her the briefest of glances but it was enough for her to see the softness in his eyes. Short enough for no one to notice but long enough for her to feel as though the whole world had stood still. She couldn’t hear the men talking over the clank of plates and knives. All that existed was the pound of her heart in her ears that she somehow knew mirrored his.

  “This is the princess,” Ragni declared to Knut, yanking on her arm. He used his hold to manoeuvre her around, making her rotate so that he could see every part of her.

  Keita recognised some of the words that came next. Skinny, he said. Something to do with her health. She stood numbly while he rattled off details about her that she didn’t understand. She understood the final one though. Pure.

  Inwardly, she flinched. There was nothing pure about her now. She’d taken a great risk giving that up but she couldn’t help believe it was worth it and why should Ragni believe any different?

  It was only when Thorarin looked up and he met her gaze once more did panic begin to flutter in her chest like a trapped bird. Then she heard i
t. They were talking prices.

  For her?

  The need to yank her arm away and run to the hills fired through her body. She even went as far as to tug instinctively against the pinching hold but Ragni pulled her closer and shoved her in front of the merchant. Knut stood and skimmed his hand down her waist, feeling her ribs and the point of her hips. She was more slender than she had been in Pictland and he no doubt recognised she hadn’t been eating well. He put a thumb to her mouth and forced it open. His fingers tasted of metal and sweat. Keita stared into eyes that saw her as nothing more than a product. She knew it then, as he inspected her teeth. She was to be sold. It was likely she would fetch a high price being a princess and supposedly innocent.

  Part of her drifted into a numb world where the fear vanished. She wouldn’t let herself be sold. She would flee once more and die if she must. Knut turned her, ran his hands all over her in a way no man had been allowed to do before. There was no doubt Ragni had lost his faith in her or else he would not be allowing this behaviour.

  When the merchant finished, he kept hold of her wrist as he sat and drew her to his side. Ragni made no mention of this. Instead, they shook hands, raised a toast and laughed. She stole a glance at Thorarin and saw his tense hand around his goblet. Once more, she silently pleaded with him to do nothing. There were too many men here loyal to Ragni. If he did anything, he’d surely be killed. He looked at her once, his eyes filled with anguish, that beautiful green gaze muddied by pain.

  She mouthed neinn at him and he turned his attention back to his goblet. When Knut dragged her down and made her sit on his lap, Thorarin pushed away from the table. He didn’t say anything as he stormed out but neither man seemed to notice.

  “Keita, I have bought,” he told her in faltering Pictish. “We leave morning. I expect you be good slave, understand?”

  She nodded, unable to summon any other response. She remained on his lap for most of the evening, suffering the occasional touch to her breasts and thighs, and when they retreated to sleep, the merchant tied her collar to a rope and looped it around his wrist. He fell asleep quickly, not touching her, but she suspected had he not been drunk on mead, he would have taken her. She shuddered and tried not to weep. Somehow she would escape him. Somehow.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Snores rattled the rafters of the longhouse. The torches had been long extinguished and darkness reigned. Thorarin had to take several moments to let his eyes adjust. It was not moments he wanted to take but he could not afford to step on someone and wake them. He thought to the sleeping járl and how close he was, how easy it would be to slip in and cut his throat.

  But Ragni would live this night.

  Maybe Ragni would continue living. All he knew was that he had to get Keita away from here. They had to escape. He made his way across the sleeping bodies on the floor and found Keita next to the merchant. She was awake. He could not see her expression properly but he put a finger to his lips in the hopes of silencing any surprise. Thorarin gripped her wrist and tried to pull her up and away but she tugged on his sleeve, drawing attention to the rope tied to the collar. That explained why she had not come to him.

  He’d expected her to. Expected her to plead him to escape with her. And he was ready. He had supplies waiting at the farmstead. They would take a path across the mountains and to the coast. There he would get them a boat and they’d go to one of the islands. Iceland perhaps or one of the Western Isles of Scotland. His revenge would maybe never be fulfilled but by rescuing Keita, he suspected that would be enough to restore his honour.

  He slipped a knife out of his belt and sliced through the rope. Taking her hand, he led her cautiously across the crowded floor of the longhouse. They slipped outside and remained silent until they were out of the settlement. Thorarin grabbed her briefly, pressed a hard kiss to her mouth and led her up to the farmstead.

  “Our supplies are at the house.”

  He did not look back at her. There was no time. If the merchant awoke and discovered Keita was gone, they would have a hunting party on their tail in no time. He kept his grip on her hand and did a quick scan of the surrounding area before ducking into the building. He snatched up his skin of water and slung it over his shoulder then grabbed their supplies.

  They’d stop at where he’d buried the coin to get enough money for their journey. He’d probably leave the rest where it could be easily found. There was no sense in the villagers suffering further because of him. Thorarin huffed out a breath. He’d been a selfish fool.

  He paused to search his tools. Keita could be passed off as his own slave easily enough but he wanted that collar off her as soon as possible. He picked up one and stashed it in his bag.

  “Come, we have no time to waste.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the coast. We’ll get on a ship from there.” He took her arm and eyed her gravely. “You cannot return home. Not as a slave. They may try to find you.”

  She shook her head. “There’s nothing for me there anyway. Thank you for coming for me.”

  He stared down into her eyes in the gloom, wishing he could see her properly. “I would not have left you to such a fate. I could never see you harmed, Keita. I love you.”

  The faint flicker of a smile made itself known. “And I you.”

  Triumph, headier than any battle victory, wrapped itself around his insides. But there was no time to savour it. “Let us make haste.”

  He took her hand again and led her out of the longhouse. Keita screamed before the pain hit. At least he thought she did. The sound could have been from inside his head. A blaze of agony burst through his skull and his knees almost sagged. He lifted himself up only for another blow to strike his stomach. He tried to release a sound of pain but it refused to come loose while his body forced him double before he dropped to his knees. The need to curl up in a ball was strong but he lifted his head to see his assailant.

  The merchant.

  He glanced around and saw Ragni and several of his loyal men. Keita put her hands to his shoulders but her soft touch vanished when one of the men snatched her and hauled her away. She struggled against him but to no avail. The man held her firm.

  “She is my property,” Knut spat.

  “And she was mine,” Ragni added.

  He came to stand in front of him and peered down. Thorarin tried to think past the haze of agony in his head but it was like wading through mud. All he knew was he needed to get to Keita somehow. He had to shut down the pain and get to her before anyone harmed her. Why would his body not cooperate?

  “Did you touch her, Thorarin?” Ragni asked, coming down to crouch in front of him. “Did you touch what was mine?”

  Thorarin shook his head, even while knowing denial was useless.

  “I saw the look you shared today. Then you left the longhouse and I knew. I knew you were in love with this thrall.”

  “Nay,” Keita protested. “It was my fault. I came to him, my járl. He did not touch me. I wanted him to but he denied me.”

  Foolish girl. Was she trying to protect him?

  “I also suspect you are my thief,” the járl added. “But not only have you stolen my coin but also my slave.”

  He shook his head though he knew protesting was useless. And if he really believed Keita, he would protest her words. He’d tell him it was all him. That he’d forced her. That he was not aiding her but kidnapping her. Whatever it took to ensure she was not harmed.

  “Search his house,” he barked at the men.

  Two others came to his side and hauled him up. His stomach panged in protest and blood rushed through his ears in a deafening wave of sound. He saw the horror written on Keita’s face and tried to offer some sort of reassuring smile but he failed. He could fight but they’d taken his axe at some point when he’d been prone. He stood little chance against all these men. Being dead would be of no use to Keita. For her, he had to stay alive.

  The men came out of the farmhouse and his heart drop
ped to his knees. He doubted he had any chance of denying his relationship with Keita as it was but without proof of his wrongdoing, the járl might have little chance of proving his guilt. One of the men handed Keita’s necklace over to Ragni who closed his fingers about it and held it in a tight fist.

  “That was on his pallet, my járl,” one of the men said.

  Thorarin did not see the blow coming, just like he had not seen the men in wait outside the building. He’d been too concerned with Keita. The backhand to his face made his ears ring and Keita’s cry mingled with it. He tasted the metallic tang of blood but the pain was not so bad. He could tolerate a few blows now that he was a little more prepared, he reckoned. All he needed to do was survive and get to Keita. Simple enough.

  The merchant shook his head. “If she is spoiled, she is worth a lot less.”

  “Need I remind you, you have already paid for her,” Ragni said through clenched teeth.

  “You will owe me, Ragni. I was promised a virgin.”

  He waved a hand. “Once I have found my stolen coin, you can have her.” He thrust a finger at Thorarin. “Lock him away. He goes on trial tomorrow.”

  Though tempted to fight against the men holding him, he had little choice but to cooperate while they had Keita.

  “I’ll be leaving with her at first light,” Knut said behind him.

  He fought then. He wrenched his arms from the men and turned back toward her. There was no way he’d let the merchant take her before he’d gone on trial or had a chance at his freedom. During a fair trial, he’d have the opportunity to ensure everyone knew the truth about Ragni. There was no chance he’d be punished for his actions, not once the elders were informed Ragni had killed his own son.

  But if Keita was already gone...

  Thoughts of their weapons or the risk to Keita no longer existed. All he knew was he needed to get her far from that man. He ducked the first blow aimed at him. Keita wriggled against Knut’s grip on her arm but was yanked brutally back. The next blow came from behind. He might have been able to continue fighting had he not already been hit once. Lightning flashed across his vision and pain pulsed through the point on his neck on which he’d been struck—by an axe handle most likely.