A Heart of Fire (14 page)

Aldar
looked from the rafters to the hearth, to her table with herbs and bowls.

He
couldn’t remember ever having visited her home, and in that moment, he realized
he knew very little of the young woman he had raised as his daughter.

Where has she
gone?
he wondered.

He
stepped inside slowly. The small dwelling was cold and dark, yet everything
looked to be in place. Aldar's gaze drifted around the small inside and stopped
at the bed, the broken legs splintered beneath the mattress.

His
frown deepened when he took a step closer and stooped to touch the fur covering,
running his fingers over it. He crouched down to have a look at the bottom and
ran a hand over his beard.

There
was only one thing he could imagine having happened here.

A
man
had stolen Finna away.

"Imagine
that," he breathed.

Aldar
grabbed a fistful of the covers and ripped them from the bed with a growl. He
stood, and as he looked over the bedding, he saw no signs of rape. No blood.
Aldar dug his hands into his hair and bellowed. He wasn’t sure why, but he did.

Could it be I
care for her?

Or is it that I
have at last lost my final piece of revenge?

His
blood swelled in his veins, and he growled as he stomped from the room,
striding quickly outside where two more of his warriors headed toward him,
their torches dancing and weaving down the path with rushed steps.

For
a moment, hope rooted him to the spot—until they came into full view.

He
ground his teeth.

"She
is
somewhere
," he roared when
they met him, shaking their heads. "There have to be tracks!"

A
fluttering of wings sent the men to ducking as an owl glided overhead. Only
Aldar did not flinch. He jerked his head up, spotted the owl, and jerked his
arm upward. He waited patiently for Finna's pet to come to him, the little bird
flitting between the trees.

When
the owl at last perched on his arm, he roughly smoothed a finger over its
small, white-feathered head. "She would not have left you behind," he
said to the owl. "Where is she?" he asked, crooning and petting the
bird.

The
owl crooked its neck at Aldar and made a high-pitched clicking noise in return.

Aldar
glowered at the bird. "You will find her for me," he persuaded
gruffly. He cast the owl upwards with a fling of his arm. Fang took flight,
flapping his wings at the sudden lift and soared into the trees.

Aldar
turned to his men, pointing at the bird. "Follow the owl. He may lead you
to her."

Chapter Eleven

Valdrik
paced outside Finna's chamber for what seemed like forever. Surguilde bade him
to wait for his intended to dress and to then escort her to the hall for the
feast, as doing so would be kind of him, for Surguilde had duties to see to as
well as food preparations that could not wait.

She'd
made a good argument, but he now wished he'd had a ready excuse earlier.

When
the door did finally begin to open, Valdrik's attention perked and he straightened
against the wall.

A
small face appeared, and Finna looked out into the corridor. The sconces lit
high on dark walls flickered over her pale skin and even paler hair. She did
not see him in the shadows at first, and then started when her eyes fell on
him.

He
grinned at her small fright, her little gasp, and she glared at him in
response.

"Valdrik,"
she said, narrowing her eyes and sighing at him with much candid irritation for
his presence. She pulled the door closed behind her, never once removing her
gaze from him. "Why are you here?" she asked stiffly.

Valdrik
crossed his arms over his chest. "You surely took long enough. Come, 'tis
time to eat," he said. His stare fell down her slowly as he pushed himself
off the wall and came nearer, his gaze traveling back up her body to her face.
"I see your effort and time has been well spent."

Finna
raised a brow at him. "Do I hear a compliment, Viking?"

He
offered her his arm, scowling at her for calling him
Viking
yet again, as though she, too, were not a Viking. As though
she likened him to some heathen that she was not.

He
would not have thought it, but her beauty truly rivaled Geera's. Perhaps even
surpassed. Truthfully, before this moment, he had had a hard time picturing
Finna as a woman. Now, in the soft glow of torches, he found her ravishing. Her
breasts in better view than he had seen before, the lush mounds rose above the
neckline of her dress, straining against the material. Her figure slimmed down
from those breasts to her thin waist, only to jut out at curvy hips.

Valdrik
swallowed, his mouth going dry.

Aye,
he found her much to his liking now.

"What
is it you are about?" Finna snapped.

Leisurely,
Valdrik tore his gaze from her attributes. "Mayhap I wish to ascertain
what Hadarr has given me." He did not give her scolding any more heed than
that, and at once began to look her over again. He
thought
he could see the round buds of her breasts through the
material.

"He
has not
given
you anything as of
yet," she said. "You’ve no right to touch me so boldly with your eyes
as you do."

His
stare flew to hers, the clash of their stares hot. Finna had the audacity to
bare her teeth at him. Oh, this hellion. What was he to do with her temper?
Dare he seek to tame it?

Slowly,
the corner of his lips turned into a smile. This newfound fascination with her
was both startling and riveting. "Nay?" Valdrik asked, taking a step
forward, forcing her back.

He
lifted a hand to brush the tip of her breast, but at the flash of her teeth, he
thought better of that notion and retracted his hand. He had never touched a
woman without invitation, just as he had never taken one with force.

"You’ve
already taken more liberty with my body than you should have," she said,
flattening her back against the wall to keep from him.

Her
accusation confused him, and he stopped, frowning at her. "You will have
to clarify for me, sweet maiden, what exactly you mean by that, for I do not
recall any liberties taken."

She
scoffed. "Nay?"

He
laughed. "Nay, truly I do not, for surely I would have remembered."
He swept her with a lusty gaze again, this time trailing to the center of her
thighs where her dress dipped between the gap of her legs.

She
snarled at him. "You touched me the night we spent at the fjord, and I
shall not tolerate such happening again if that is what you have a mind to
do."

Valdrik's
brows climbed even higher with his surprise, and he rolled his tongue over his
lips. He could not deny her accusation aroused him. "And where is this I
touched you?" he asked, his voice rough as he again advanced on her,
unable to stop himself.

Her
pale hair was light as the moon against the dark of the wall at her back, the
torchlight sparking on the strands, glinting in her eyes. Valdrik reached out
and took her loose hair in his fingers, rubbing the flaxen length between thumb
and forefinger. It was soft.

Mayhap
Hadarr had not made such a terrible decision for him. After all, he had long
told himself it did not matter how he came into the position he desired.

Finna
paled when he fixed her with his stare, thoroughly trapped between him and the
wall.

Valdrik
placed his hands on either side of her, slowly bringing his palms up, just by
her head, and at the same time leaning his body closer to her. Finna's breasts
rose and fell with quick little breaths.

"You
do not have to be frightened of me," he said deeply, his gaze hungrily
flicking down to her lips and back up. "Tell me where," he coaxed.
"I do not believe I touched you, save the length of your body against mine
as we slept." He paused, and just to taunt her he added, "For
warmth."

Finna
jutted her chin at him.

"Shall
I touch you again to jar your memory?"

She
sucked in a gasp. "Nay!" she cried.

Valdrik
lowered one of his hands, as if to make good on his threat, only to have her
grab him by the wrist. He chuckled at her meager attempt.

"You
touched—" She broke off, blushing deeply.

"What
is this?" he asked, amused, pulling from her grasp and tilting her chin
upward. "The warrior maiden blushes? I rather like it," he murmured.
Suddenly, before she could stop him, before he could stop himself, Valdrik
grabbed her up against his body.

Finna
shrieked and flailed her fists at his chest.

Gods,
but the temptation to kiss her surged strongly through him.

"Release
me," she demanded.

"Tell
me where I touched you and I shall free you. 'Tis as simple as that," he
husked.

She
growled at him, giving him one last thump of her fist into his chest with a
furious little scowl. Her perfectly pink lips pursed at him, all her temper and
ire flashing from those cerulean eyes.

Valdrik
pressed her to him, enjoying the feel of her body, much softer and more pliant
than he would have thought. Though he had slept against her the night at the
fjord, he had not relished the feel of her as he did now. He had not imagined
ever possessing any desire for her, the hellion, because he'd thought himself
to be wedded to her sister.

A
little tighter he squeezed, her firm breasts pressing into his thin tunic, the
apex of her legs sinking against his thigh with her weight. Desire drummed hard
in his loins, eliciting a groan from deep within him. Valdrik tilted his lips
toward her neck, desiring to know what she would taste like. His beard brushed
her tender skin, and she jolted against him.

"Enough!"
she cried, pressing at his chest. Her eyes went wide at the arch of his arousal
jutting against her sex. "You touched me …
there
," she shrieked, her words spilling together, the regret
for having started this little squabble with him evident in her tone. She
glanced downward in indication as to where.

Her
accusation aroused him all the more. "Did I?" he rasped, reluctant to
let her go, though she squirmed against him. He closed his eyes, drinking in
her sweet scent, the lush feel of her.

Nay,
Hadarr had not been so wrong.

Valdrik
slowly let her slide away from him, the arch of his cock gliding against her
body, the strength of his stare capturing her gaze. Finna took a shaking step
back, her hands trembling as she smoothed at her dress. She flicked her gaze
up, just once, to the rise in his leggings. She gasped, her mouth opening and
shutting as she tried to look anywhere but at him. A hue the color of poppies
spread across her cheeks, and he chuckled at her.

"When
I am your husband I shall touch you in a good number of ways, so you should
accustom yourself to that idea," Valdrik said.

She
thrust her nose into the air. "I would not count on that were I you."
She gave him a stomp of her foot. "You are not desirable to me as a mate
or husband, and I shall have words with Hadarr over this."

"You
do not desire me?" he asked, shocked and offended, though he didn’t
believe her. Her desire for him was plainly etched across her face, only, he
suspected, she did not know what to do with those feelings of lust.

He
would teach her soon enough though.

The
idea of teaching Finna to pleasure him sparked something hard and powerful,
something he feared he could not control.

"When
I touched you, did you find pleasure?" he asked.

She
gaped at him. "Nay." Finna turned quickly and started for the stairs,
but he lunged and caught her by the arm, anchoring her there. She stopped,
casting her gaze long and hard. "I shall
not
wed you, Valdrik Haraldson," she said with vigor.
"And from this moment forward you shall keep your hands from me."
Finna shook loose from his grasp then and turned to march down the steps,
leaving him there in excruciating arousal.

Indeed,
he admired her spirit much more now.

"Aye,
you shall," he said into the dark stairwell, watching her silhouette move
away. "And nay, I shall not."

Chapter Twelve

The
room was awash with light and merrymaking as Finna fled down the stairs and
spilled into the room, unnoticed by most. Or unrecognized. She wasn’t sure
which.

Servants
rushed about with platters piled high with food. Some carried pitchers of
drink, too, while others were kept busy by being pulled into the laps of
various men. Drums and lutes and singing filled her ears as she turned to look
behind her, fully expecting Valdrik to be on her heels.

He
was there, descending quickly behind her.

Finna
gave him one last cutting look before she hurried away, keeping her eyes on him
as she started through the crowds until she could no longer see him for the
other persons there. Finna went toward the dais on her own, fortunately rid of
his presence, and lifted the hem of her dress to climb the steps.