* *
For the rest of the evening the occasional quick glance would confirm that the warrior continued to be interested in her. It was an interest she returned threefold. Even though she knew nothing could come of the flirtation—she was a simple farm girl from Banford and he was a respected commander who could marry a lady far richer than her—she couldn’t make herself stop it.
Finally, late in the evening some of the men began to retire and Lady Gwendolyn bid them good evening. Ellan gathered the pitchers to return them to the larder for the night, hooking two on each hand to save herself a trip. Someone had moved the stool that usually stayed in the room, so she leaned up on her tiptoes and awkwardly returned them to the high shelf above the casks of unopened mead and ale that lined the wall. But the angle was tricky and the last one began to wobble because she couldn’t quite push it completely on to the shelf. Just when it would have crashed to the floor, a strong hand reached past her to push it firmly into place.
She whirled around to see Aevir standing much too close to her. She stepped back in surprise and came up against one of the barrels.
‘What is your name?’ His voice was deep with a bit of a husky texture, his intent clear as his gaze swept her face to land on her mouth. He was going to kiss her. Blood rushed in her ears and she licked her lips in anticipation.
‘Ellan,’ she answered, her heart thumping with joy that he’d sought her out.
‘Ellan.’ The simple name sounded exotic in his voice. ‘I want—’ Before he could finish, she nodded. It was an instinct more than the result of any conscious thought. His lips curved in the hint of a smile as his large hands cupped her face and his charged gaze settled on her mouth again. As soon as his lips touched hers, she opened for him eagerly, excited that this warrior wanted her in the same way she wanted him. She suspected that he intended far more than a kiss, but she would stop him when the time came. Right now she simply wanted to enjoy this with him.
The seductive stroke of his tongue against her lower lip made her tremble. She gripped his biceps, holding on to keep from losing the contact, and he groaned softly in pleasure. The gruff sound did something to her that she couldn’t fathom. It seemed to vibrate inside her, awakening a longing that she’d never known was possible. Heat began to unfurl in her belly as if he’d lit a flame inside her. She had been kissed a few times before...but never like this. The men had either been too timid or too harsh. Nay, not men. She could see that now. They had been boys compared to Aevir.
This kiss was different. It was just right. The rough and smooth glide of his tongue had only just pressed inside, giving a tentative stroke against hers, when a harsh voice called his name.
He pulled back a little, his eyes hungry and deep as he stared down at her, but he didn’t let her go when he said, ‘What?’ to the shadow of the man who stood in the doorway. One strong hand had moved to the nape of her neck and his thumb slid down her neck in a gentle caress that sent a delightful shiver through her.
The newcomer spoke in the Norse tongue. She’d learned enough of their words to understand that he was warning Aevir away from her, but the disappointment that crossed Aevir’s face confirmed it. When she and Elswyth had arrived, the men had been warned to keep their distance because the sisters were under Lord Vidar’s protection. Aevir was new so he hadn’t known until now apparently.
The frustration in the air between them was palpable. A hand had dropped down to her waist and his fingers tightened on her enough that she knew he didn’t want to let her go. A pleasant tingle was left behind when he released her and stepped away. ‘Forgive me. I didn’t know.’
She shook her head. ‘Lord Vidar doesn’t tell me who I can kiss.’ She knew that Lord Vidar had hoped to protect them when he’d passed the decree, but she couldn’t help but resent the implication that she couldn’t make up her own mind about whom she kissed.
Aevir grinned at her, but his eyes were still hot and intense. ‘Nay, I’m certain he wouldn’t, but I, unfortunately, don’t have the same freedom.’
He was teasing her. She wanted to pull him back to her, to demand the kiss that she’d been deprived of, but her rational mind intervened. There was no future for them. He’d only kissed her because he thought she’d be available to warm his bed for the evening. He was sure to be disappointed eventually when she said nay to that.
‘Goodnight, Ellan.’
‘Goodnight, Aevir.’ His eyes flared ever so slightly when she said his name and dropped to her lips again. She could see his desire for her warring with his common sense. But, in the end, he gave her a final, reluctant nod and turned, leaving her in the larder alone.
It was madness because she didn’t know him at all, but she couldn’t help but feel as if she’d lost out on something very special.
Bernicia, northern Northumbria—winter AD 872
It had been nearly a fortnight since he had come to Alvey and first laid eyes on Ellan. In that time Aevir had failed to completely banish the girl from his thoughts. The days were easy enough. They were filled with almost constant sparring and travel that had taken him to the northern corners of Alvey’s border with the Scots. It was the nights, quiet and often fraught with boredom, that made him ache for her. The strong pull between them was attraction in its most raw and unbridled form. It was so rare that he’d never quite experienced it with another woman. Desire, aye, and love, once, but not this nearly overwhelming need to possess another.
Had she been more experienced—and not under Lord Vidar’s protection—he’d have spent his every night in Alvey buried within her. As it was, he’d been forced to look for substitutes, but none of the women who had offered had the completely contradictory charms of sincerity and insolence that she had. None of them had that particular look in their eyes that said to him, ‘Teach me everything you know and I’ll find a way to break you with pleasure.’
The thought made the corners of his mouth turn up in a mocking grin. Ellan could have him in knots over her if she only knew how to wield the power she held. It was an unfortunate situation to find himself in given that the girl in question could very well be a spy planted by her father who was known for his hatred for the Danes. His only consolation was that she did not know how unreasonably besotted he was with her. Though she was bound to figure it out if he kept staring at her.
Her sister had married Aevir’s friend Rolfe after a whirlwind courtship earlier in the day, leaving the evening to be taken up with feasting, stories and music. There was a distinct lack of women within Alvey’s walls, so Ellan danced around the room along with Lady Gwendolyn and a few other wives and serving girls, taking the hand of a man in the large circle and twirling once before moving to the next. Her smile was breathtaking and the way she moved had him wondering if she’d be that uninhibited beneath him.
That thought forced him to look away and stare down into his mead, but the honeyed notes in the liquid only reminded him of the way the firelight played over the gold tones in her hair. Cursing under his breath, he wondered how much more of this celebration he’d be forced to endure.
The couple had long since retired to their bedchamber upstairs for the evening. Given the thin walls and flooring, there was no question that the marriage had been well and truly consummated. The usual ribald comments had begun and Ellan had sat across from him, blushing with each one. More telling was how she would glance over to him, letting him know her thoughts followed his own. Lady Gwendolyn had been indulgent and let the suggestive remarks pass until she had finally proposed more dancing. Aevir had been a fool to think the music would provide any sort of relief from wanting Ellan. In fact, as the evening wore on and his gaze kept finding her dancing form, he was beginning to think that the only way to rid himself of his obsession would be to have her once and get it over with. Jarl Vidar might disapprove, but whatever the punishment was it would be worth it.
Pushing his tankard