Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: Lord Havelock's List\Saved by the Viking Warrior\The Pirate Hunter (24 page)

BOOK: Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: Lord Havelock's List\Saved by the Viking Warrior\The Pirate Hunter
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He heard her gasp. Glanced up. Her hands were still clasped together, but they were at chest height now, not on her lap. And her eyes...

‘Brown eyes,' he said, because he'd got this part off by heart. ‘That look right to the heart of me and accept me just as I am, because her own heart is so generous,' he said, hoping it was true right now. But just in case it wasn't, he lowered his gaze to the paper again, unwilling to say the rest in the face of any direct opposition.

‘“She won't be afraid to work hard. She won't be afraid of being poor. She will be a little shy and uncertain, but so responsive to my kisses that after a bit she will forget where she is and surrender to the waves of passion that break over us, drowning us both. She won't care about my title. She would feel just the same about me if I never had one. She will judge everyone by a yardstick of kindness and generosity. She won't care so much about her appearance that she would rebuff a child.” Oh, and one last thing,' he finished, lowering the sheet, and making himself look her steadily in the eye, no matter what.

‘Her name must be Mary.'

A little sob escaped her throat. ‘I never knew you had it in you to be so...poetical.'

‘If I could write poetry,' he scoffed, ‘I would have done. Setting all this down so it made any kind of sense took me hours and hours. But the thing is, you're worth it, Mary. I want to court you. Woo you, if you like. Make this marriage one that's full of romance, and...' he gulped ‘...and love.'

‘Love?'

‘Yes, love. Don't look so shocked. I don't expect you to fall in love with me, the way I've fallen in love with you. Don't suppose it's possible. But I can stand that,' he said, drawing himself up to his full height. ‘I can bear anything, so long as you don't forbid me to love you.'

‘Of course it's possible,' she cried. ‘I've loved you practically from the very first night I saw you!'

‘From the...' He shook his head. ‘No. You couldn't have. You didn't give me the slightest bit of encouragement. I had to get your cousins twisting your arm to even get you to come out sightseeing with me.'

‘That's because I was afraid.'

‘Afraid of me?'

‘Not of you. But the way you made me feel. I'd never thought of any man in...
that
way before. I thought those sorts of feelings made a woman weak and vulnerable. It shocked me. Scared me. So I fought it. Tried to deny it.'

‘Right up to the altar.' He nodded.

‘And after. I didn't admit to myself that I loved you for a while. And even then, I tried to hide it....'

‘You did that extremely well. You always kept me at arm's length. You wouldn't even call me by my given name.'

‘I didn't know I was allowed to,' she put in, a touch indignantly, he thought. ‘You never said.'

‘It never occurred to me I had to. But I want you to. It would make me feel so much closer to you.'

‘Gregory,' she said shyly. ‘I am so sorry.' She got to her feet and closed the distance between them. ‘Sorry that I never showed you any sign of my growing affection for you.' She took hold of his hands.

‘But then, I had told you not to expect, or request, affection from me,' he groaned.

‘But if you do want it to be part of our...our fresh start,' she said hesitantly, ‘then...'

He was about to crush her to his chest and shower her face with kisses. But before he could do anything of the sort, she'd stretched up on tiptoe, put her arms round his neck and kissed him.

Kissed him.

For the first time, she'd been the one to initiate an embrace.

‘My God, Mary, Mary,' he gasped. ‘This feels like a miracle. Can it really be true? Can you love me?'

‘How could I not love you?' There were tears in her eyes. ‘I am only sorry I was so miserly with my heart before. If I'd been as generous as you said, I would have shown you how I felt, rather than hiding it all, to try to save face. And speaking of hiding things...'

* * *

She'd known it was wrong to keep the news of her pregnancy from him. Even when she'd feared it would mean the end of any chance of a reconciliation. But now, after he'd professed his love and his hope they could have a fresh start, it would be tantamount to saying she didn't trust him.

And how could she say she loved him, if she didn't trust him, completely?

She did trust him. He'd never lied to her, not even when the truth had hurt. So if he said he loved her and wanted a different sort of marriage from the one they'd agreed on at first, then he meant it.

‘I'm...'

The words stuck in her throat. It felt as though she was about to fling herself off a cliff into his arms, hoping he really would be there to catch her.

‘What is it, Mary? Whatever it is, I swear I won't be angry with you.'

It had never been his anger she'd feared. And wasn't now.

Taking a deep breath, she flung herself over the edge.

‘I'm increasing.'

His eyes widened. He glanced down at her stomach.

Then laughed with what looked like absolute joy. And hugged her. ‘You clever, clever girl,' he said, sweeping her into his arms and over to one of the strategically placed armchairs, where he settled her on his lap.

Where he kissed her a bit more.

‘It doesn't matter how we started, does it?' she said, after a while. ‘We both made mistakes and both hid what we really felt, but we can do better from now on, can't we?'

‘Well, I'm certainly determined to do better,' he said. ‘From now on, I mean to show you how much you mean to me, every second of every day. I'm going to treat you like a queen.'

‘I'm not sure,' she said thoughtfully, ‘I want to be treated like a queen.'

‘Very well. What would you like, then? Bearing in mind you want me to take your opinions into account whenever I have to make a decision.'

* * *

She pulled away from him a bit, her lips pursing. For a moment, he wondered whether he'd ruined the moment by referring to her list of complaints. But then she darted him a distinctly saucy look.

‘All I want,' she said, with a glint in her eye, ‘is for you to want me so much you can't keep your hands off me. Day or night. I know I'm not pretty. But you made me feel as if I was, to you, when you were so on fire for me you chased me round sofas, scandalising everyone from the butler to the scullery maid.'

His heart seemed to turn over in his chest. And when it settled, it was pounding like a galloping horse. ‘Is that so?' He pushed her off his lap. ‘Go on, then,' he said.

‘Go on, what?'

‘I shall give you a head start.' He leaned back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. ‘I shall count to twenty. No,' he said, ‘actually I can't wait till I've counted to twenty. Make it ten.'

‘Ten?' She edged away from him, a confused frown on her face.

‘One,' he said, or rather growled, leaning forward and eyeing her hotly from head to toe.

‘Two...'

She shivered where she stood. An answering heat flared to life in her eyes.

‘Three...'

She glanced round the room. At the hearthrug at his feet. At the table. Back at him, a smile playing about her lips.

‘Four...'

She turned, and made her way slowly towards the door.

‘Five...'

She hesitated, her hand on the latch, and glanced back over her shoulder.

‘Six...'

He got to his feet.

‘Seven...' He stalked away from the chair.

Her face lit up. With a little shriek of laughter, she fumbled open the door, hitched up her skirts and ran from the room.

‘Eight-nine-ten,' he yelled and set out in hot pursuit.

* * * * *

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ISBN-13: 9781460338919

Lord Havelock's List

Copyright © 2014 by Annie Burrows

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical,
now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

www.Harlequin.com

“THERE IS NO ONE. I TRAVEL ALONE. I LIVE ALONE. ALWAYS.”

Battle-scarred Thrand the Destroyer has only one thing on his mind: settling old scores. But with the beautiful Lady of Lingfold as his prisoner, the unyielding warrior starts to dream of a loving wife and a home to call his own.

Cwen is also seeking justice, but she knows the fragile alliance she's built with Thrand will only last as long as they share a common enemy. Unless they can find a way to leave revenge to the gods to forge a new life together.

“Maintains the myth while adding sexual tension, nonstop action and spice.” —
RT Book Reviews
on
The Viking's Captive Princess

“War is my life, my whole life,” Thrand said. “It is what I have chosen.
There is nothing else for me.”

He stalked away, ending the conversation. Cwenneth stared after him, weighing the jar in her hand.

“Curiosity can get you killed, Cwenneth,” she muttered. “Treacherous Norse blood runs in his veins. You have to think about saving your life and escaping. Keep away from him. Stop trying to see good where none exists.”

The trouble was a small part of her heart refused to believe it.

* * *

Saved by the Viking Warrior
Harlequin® Historical #1202—September 2014

Author Note

Some characters just decide they want to be written. Lady
Cwenneth was one of those characters. She popped into my head and refused to go.
Part of the trouble with writing this book is that the primary source
documentation is not very good for Northumbria in the ninth century. It is a
mixture of legend and fact. Sometimes the facts masquerade as legends and
sometimes it is the other way around.

One of the inspirations for the story was an archaeological
dig in Corbridge where they discovered a woman buried in the Viking, rather than
the Christian, manner. The Vikings did not settle around the Tyne, rather they
had the area as a client kingdom. Just how friendly everyone was toward the
Vikings remains an unanswered question.

I do hope you enjoy Cwenneth and Thrand's story. In case
anyone is wondering, Thrand is the grandson of the hero's stepbrother in
Taken by the Viking
and the sister of the heroine in
The Viking's Captive Princess.
This is why he
knows how to make the healing balm that Cwenneth uses in the story.

As ever, I love hearing from readers. You can contact me
through my website,
www.michellestyles.co.uk
; my blog,
www.michellestyles.blogspot.com
; or my publisher. I also
have a page on
Facebook—Michelle Styles Romance Author
—where I regularly post my
news. And I'm on Twitter as
@michelleLstyles
.

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