Harlequin Historical February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Major's Wife\To Tempt a Viking\Mistress Masquerade (32 page)

Ragnar kept his hand around her, but she was so caught up in the residual fear that she couldn't seem to get warm. Never before had she been so close to her own death. It frightened her past all reason and she couldn't stop shaking.

When they reached their shelter, Ragnar helped her down from the horse. He built up the fire until it was burning hot and she sat as close as she dared. He moved to sit beside her, and Elena closed her eyes, needing the comfort of human touch.

‘Thank you,' she managed at last. ‘I've never been so afraid. I thought they'd killed you.'

His hand moved over her hair, quietly stroking it back. With his fingers, he unravelled the braids until the long wavy strands fell over her shoulder. ‘I wouldn't have let anything happen to you, Elena. Not ever.'

His hands were soothing her in a way that pushed back the fear. The warmth of the fire was starting to calm her and she leaned her head against his shoulder. ‘I'm sorry I was avoiding you these past few days,' she admitted.

‘Why did you?' He kept his gaze fixed upon the flames as if he didn't know the answer.

Her pulse quickened, but she wanted to remain honest. ‘Because I was...afraid of being too close to you.'

Ever since she'd dreamed of lying with him, she no longer trusted herself. She didn't know the woman she was becoming, one ruled by desire instead of honour. But she needed him to know the truth, for that would keep him at a distance.

Her face flamed with embarrassment. ‘You made me feel things I haven't felt in a long time.'

Ragnar let out a slow breath. ‘You wouldn't have betrayed Styr. Nor would I.' He tossed a stick on to the fire and admitted, ‘I wanted to marry you, years ago. But I never dared to ask, after the arrangement your parents made.'

His confession startled her, for she'd not expected this. She drew her knees up and looked at him. In his eyes, the stark longing set all her defences on edge.

‘I'm not telling you this to make you uncomfortable. Nor would I do anything to take you away from Styr. He's a good man and you deserve to be together.'

But she understood why he was speaking now. Both of them could have died this day.

‘I was dreaming of you,' she confessed. ‘That night in the tent when I made you touch me. It shouldn't have happened and I'm sorry for what I did.'

His dark green eyes fixed upon her, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. She half expected him to move away from her in disgust. Instead, he took her face between his hands, remaining silent. And she knew, without him speaking a single word, that he'd desired her, too.

Elena covered his hands with her own, drinking in the touch of his palms. The heat of this moment sank beneath her skin, conjuring up the lost feelings she'd put aside. She remembered how his lips had felt beneath hers and a sudden longing flushed through her skin.

It was as if a part of her had been brought back to life, resurrected in this man's touch. She wasn't used to feeling so strongly or yearning for something she couldn't have.

Finally, he took his hands away and regarded her. ‘I believe that Styr is alive and that you'll go back with him. I kept my word to protect you, and I promise to keep you safe until the day I have to let you go.'

The words were a stark reminder that nothing would happen between them. No matter how much she might want to take comfort from his touch.

But though his hands were no longer upon her, he was still staring at her with unbridled longing. ‘If you were my wife at this moment, I'd kiss you now,' he said. ‘I'd taste your sweetness and run my tongue over your lower lip.'

The words flowed through her, pushing the forbidden feelings to the surface.

She closed her eyes, trying not to envision it.

‘I'd use my mouth all over your skin,' he continued. ‘Your neck...your bare breasts, and then I'd go lower,' he said huskily. ‘Until you're craving me inside you.'

Just like the night she'd dreamed of him, her body went soft, imagining him. He shouldn't be speaking such words, tempting her in such a way. She could hardly bear it and her face was flushed.

It didn't matter what had happened these past few days. No matter that she'd grown so close to him. She was a woman of honour and would never be disloyal to her husband. ‘I can't be yours, Ragnar,' she whispered. ‘I belong to him.'

The tension in his hands was palpable as he drew them back. ‘Don't fear, Elena. I'll never touch you again. Whatever I might desire, I'll never do anything to act upon it. He won't know.'

‘He can't,' she whispered. ‘I won't be disloyal to him.'

‘Neither will I.' He stood up, opening the wooden door to their shelter. ‘When you're warm, go and sleep. I'll keep watch for the night.' Reaching out, he dropped a kiss upon her forehead, the way a brother might.

Yet all she could think was that Styr had never affected her in that way. And Ragnar hadn't laid a hand upon her.

Chapter Nine

T
he ship came at night.

Ragnar had left Elena sleeping back within the shelter while he'd spent time alone, walking along the beach. He'd never expected to see anything among the waves, but when he heard voices, he stared out at the water, wondering who was there. In the distance, he spied the flare of torches, revealing a vessel that paused momentarily near the outcropping of stone before it continued to the shore.

He remained hidden, a weapon in each hand. Although they had survived the first attack and he'd burned the bodies of the raiders, there could be more invaders. And yet he wanted to wait before alerting Elena.

The ship anchored further out and soon enough, Ragnar realised it was
their
ship. The brass weathervane proclaimed it as the one that had brought them from Norway. At long last, he spied the face of his best friend, Styr.

The sight of the man should have filled him with an immense relief. He should have run to Elena and awakened her, telling her that her husband had come at last.

But Styr was carrying a woman in his arms. And from the look on his face, he had strong feelings for her. He was not only holding her to keep her from the cold water—it was more than that. Styr was drinking in the sight of the dark-haired beauty as if she were his beloved. And when he lowered her to the sand, his arms lingered around her.

The bastard.

Ragnar's anger blasted through him at the sight of them together. How could his friend do this to Elena? The young woman had fought for her life, time and again. She'd been willing to travel across éire in search of her husband. And in repayment for her loyalty, her husband had found someone else—his captor.

Ragnar didn't move from his place, even when his friend and kinsmen made camp and built a fire. He spied the faces of Onund and a few other men who had been taken captive that night. They set up tents and Ragnar waited to see if Styr would take the woman within his shelter.

He could hardly bring himself to watch them, when he knew Styr was about to break Elena's heart. He didn't want to be right. Not in this, not when she was expecting a child. When Styr found out, would he turn away from her? Or would he stay?

The woman went inside a tent far away from the others and Ragnar breathed a little easier. And yet he couldn't forget what he'd seen.

He moved away from his hiding spot and returned to the shelter. This was his last night with Elena and he suspected that the morning would bring nothing but despair. But he was here for her now and he would not leave. Even if her husband abandoned her.

Inside the space, Ragnar could hear the rhythm of Elena's breathing. She was curled up on her side and he moved in close. She didn't awaken, but nestled against him while he drew his arms around her.

He'd vowed not to touch her, but Styr's actions had shattered those vows. If his friend had found someone else to love, Elena deserved more.

The scent of her skin and the warmth of her body allured him and it was a physical pain to be so near. He didn't care any more. Tonight he would lie with the woman he loved in his arms and damn the consequences.

* * *

At dawn, she awakened to feel Ragnar's body pressed close. Elena blinked, knowing she should get up...and yet wanting to remain where she was. His strong arms were wrapped around her, while her head rested beneath his chin. The heat of his skin permeated her and she felt a peacefulness in his embrace.

He must have returned late last night, for she'd not heard him. She didn't know why he'd slept beside her. Perhaps he'd moved during his sleep and hadn't been aware he was so close.

‘Ragnar,' she whispered.

‘Ja?'

Elena hadn't known he was awake. She waited for him to pull his arms away, to retreat towards his side of the shelter. Instead, he tightened his grasp around her. ‘There's something you need to know.'

Something in the timbre of his voice held foreboding. That, and the way he was holding her now.

‘What is it?' She tried to extricate herself, rolling over to face him, but he kept her imprisoned in his arms. In the dim light of morning, it brought her body flush to his and she sensed that whatever he had to say was not good news.

‘Styr's ship landed here last night.'

It was the last thing she'd expected him to say. Her husband had returned? A rush of relief filled her and she couldn't stop her smile. ‘He's alive. Thank the gods.'

‘And he—' Ragnar's words broke off, as if he'd suddenly caught himself.

‘And he what?' She sat up and this time, he released her. When she turned to him, there was a fierce cast to his face, the harbinger of bad news. ‘Is he wounded?'

Ragnar shook his head. He eyed her for a moment and said, ‘I suppose if it's of any importance, he'll tell you himself.' He rose from his place and moved to leave the shelter. ‘I'll build a fire and we'll wait for him.'

‘Is he down by the shore?'

‘He and our kinsmen, yes.'

‘Then we should go to them now,' Elena insisted. ‘You should have woken me last night.' It made little sense why Ragnar would let Styr and the others make camp along the shore when they could have been together.

‘We'll wait for them here,' Ragnar said. ‘Let them awaken on their own. They must have travelled for hours and likely need the sleep.'

His answer made no sense at all. She'd been apart from her husband for a week, and Ragnar was concerned about them sleeping enough? It was evident that he wasn't telling her something. From the shielded expression on his face, it had something to do with Styr. Elena didn't press him, however. Whatever it was, she'd learn the truth sooner or later.

She joined him outside by the fire, but when there were no signs of anyone approaching from the shore, she returned inside the shelter to get food. She had a bit of meat left over from last night. It wasn't enough to feed all of their kinsmen, but it was something.

Then, when she emerged from the enclosure, she caught her first glimpse of Styr approaching in the distance. Her husband didn't look at all pleased to see them and his arms were crossed.

Was he angry with Ragnar? For what reason?

She studied her husband, so relieved that he was unharmed. His dark gold hair was tied back and he still wore chainmail armour. It didn't appear that he had any outer wounds and for that she was grateful.

Elena approached him, wondering if he was going to welcome her into his arms. But instead of embracing her, Styr held back. Upon his face, she saw regret. Why? Wasn't he glad to see her again?

The shaky feeling of uneasiness sharpened at his reluctance to greet her.

She decided if he wasn't going to speak, then she would. ‘I'm glad you're all right. When they took you prisoner...I wasn't certain you would live.' She offered a tentative smile to him, hoping it would break the invisible distance between them.

‘I see that Ragnar protected you,' Styr answered. His voice remained neutral, offering no words like:
Thank the gods you're alive
or
I'm so glad to see you again
.

His behaviour was wrong, in so many ways. She forced herself to nod, but when she risked a glance back at Ragnar, she saw fury in his eyes. Whatever was wrong, he knew about it and had since last night.

Say something
, she wanted to beg Styr.
Tell me that you still love me. That everything will be all right now.

Instead, he held his silence, looking for all the world like he didn't want to be here. She struggled to think of what to say, but there was one piece of news she felt certain would bring him joy. Slowly, she moved her hands down to her womb and said, ‘We're going to have our first child, Styr. I learned of it only a few days ago.'

The expression on his face paled, as if she'd taken an axe to his stomach. There was no joy at all. No happiness at her revelation. His lack of response made her feel as if someone had knocked the wind from her.

‘Aren't you—happy?' she asked at last. ‘It's what we wanted for so long.' But he didn't speak or move. The fear inside her froze up, flooding through her body with a coldness she couldn't dispel.

Something was very wrong with her marriage and she couldn't guess what could possibly have gone so wrong in the past week. Ragnar came up behind her, as if to offer his support.

‘That's good,' Styr said at last. Only then did he come closer and embrace her. But his arms did not hold her tight, nor did he seem at all pleased by the news. Elena blinked hard to hold back the tears, feeling as if something terrible had happened and she couldn't name what it was.

Her husband seemed like a stranger now, a man who no longer loved her. The foundation of her marriage was shaped around this unborn child. She'd believed that the baby would bring them back together. But he didn't look pleased. Instead, he looked dismayed by the news.

She bit her lips so hard she nearly drew blood, but by the gods, she would not cry. Whatever had come between them, they would work through it.

A noise from behind caught her attention and Styr turned as well. There were two people in the distance watching them, and one of them was a woman with dark hair. The pieces of memory reshaped together, and Elena realised who the woman was. It was the one who'd struck Styr down, taking him as her prisoner.

She cast a glance at Ragnar, but his face was stony, unmoving.

‘I'll return in a moment,' Styr said. ‘Wait here.' He started to hurry towards them, as they returned to the shoreline.

‘Don't,' Ragnar warned, catching Elena's wrist when she was about to follow.

But she had to know. Her heart was freezing over with fear and pain, and she felt as if she'd already lost her husband.

‘That's what you saw last night, wasn't it?' Her voice was the barest whisper, the pain breaking down her courage. ‘You saw the woman.'

‘Yes. I saw her,' Ragnar admitted.

‘What were they doing together?' The idea of her husband being with someone else, even as a captive, filled her with a sudden resentment.

‘Talking.' But there was more hidden within the words he hadn't said.

‘I don't believe you.' Styr had lived with the woman over the past week. And if he'd brought her all this way, there had to be something between them. Elena had no doubt of it, especially after her husband had pursued the woman just now.

A hot rage filled up within her, seething. ‘He doesn't want the baby,' she said to Ragnar, feeling the edges of her courage crack apart.
Or me.

He came up behind her, wrapping her in his arms. ‘There's more to this than we know. Give him a chance to tell you what happened.'

Though his words were reasonable, the edge in his voice held an anger that matched her own. Elena stepped out of his arms. ‘I have to know the truth about them. Let me go, Ragnar.'

He did, raising his hands as he stepped back. ‘I'll be here, if you've need of me.'

She nodded, steeling herself as she strode towards the shore. In the distance, she saw a fishing boat approaching, with a few men rowing closer. Elena raised a hand to block the sunlight as she stared down at her husband and the woman.

It should have made her uncomfortable to spy on them, but anger made it impossible to turn away. He'd betrayed her and she needed to know the truth of his feelings for this woman.

Styr had come up behind the Irishwoman, resting his hands on her shoulders. The gentleness of the gesture and his caring posture were a dull blade twisted into her heart. Elena could see their profiles and while the woman's face held misery, her husband's held longing.

He was in love with this woman. She could see it in his bearing, in the way he turned her to face him and embraced her hard. They were holding one another as if no one else existed.

She sagged to her knees, feeling like she was intruding upon a private moment. But Styr was
her
husband, not this woman's. They had given promises to one another and had been together for years.

Years should have mattered more than days.

Yet she'd never seen her husband look at
her
in this way. He was tormented inside and bitterness took root in Elena's stomach.

Why couldn't he love her like that? Was she not woman enough for him? Had her past failings as a wife made him so eager to turn to another?

The woman was crying and Elena watched while her husband wiped away her tears and embraced her hard again.

And when she walked to the water's edge, waiting for the fishing boat to approach, Elena realised that the woman wasn't going to stay. She was sailing away, while Styr had chosen to remain with her.

But never before had she seen such desolation on her husband's face.

* * *

Ragnar hadn't wanted to see them together. Not after all this. He'd walked a long distance, needing the space away from everyone. He walked nearly a mile away from the shelter before he realised that Styr had followed him. They stood near a small copse of trees, beside a large clearing.

‘Abandoning her again, are you?' Ragnar stopped walking and turned to face the man who had once been his friend.

‘I was a captive,' Styr countered. ‘I was only freed a few days ago.'

‘By her,' Ragnar said. ‘The woman you brought with you.'

Styr gave no answer, but his expression tensed. ‘I wanted to thank you for looking after Elena.'

‘While you were betraying her with that Irish whore?'

The words provoked the response he'd wanted. Styr's temper erupted and his tone was rigid. ‘Don't call her that.'

‘You're a bastard who doesn't deserve Elena.' Ragnar gripped Styr's tunic with both hands, slamming the man up against a tree. After seeing her weep over him, after the way she'd fought for their lives, she deserved far more than Styr.