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Authors: Allison Merritt

BOOK: Her Heart's Desire
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He ambled off, shouting for Ulrika.

Eoghann's smile faded, but he didn't take his hand away from Idunna's. “I hope you're not displeased because I wanted to spend time with you.”

“Of course not. I'm grateful for your intervention. I love Ealasaid as a sister, but spending time with her in the weaving room will not yield the child I desire.” She leaned closer to him. “I hoped for your attention after our meal, husband.”

The fine lines around his eyes relaxed. “I shall do my best to provide, I swear to you. Your happiness is the most important thing to me.” A hint of fear came through in his voice.

“I am happy. I would be happier still if you would eat. Do not allow the king's good food to go to waste.” She lifted a goose leg from the platter in front of them, then lowered it to his plate. “When did you last see such a fat goose?”

“A lifetime ago.” His gaze was far away. “Placed on a table I was not allowed to approach.”

“Forgive me.” She reached for it again, but he stopped her.

“There's nothing to forgive. I enjoy goose and I shall enjoy it more because you gave it.” He picked up the leg. “I'm famished. Hella's presence is enough to make my appetite flee. Particularly when he displays his kingly authority.”

“It's true. You must take pride or the others will scorn you. It's not so hard to be a Norseman. Act confident and they will soon forget you're not one of them by blood.” She bent over her soup, soaking the broth with a grainy piece of bread while Eoghann devoured the goose. “You'll grow used to him in time. Hella seems fierce, but he wants the best for his wife and people. You are one of them. If he didn't believe you, there is no doubt he wouldn't have let you live.”

“Thanks to you.” He lowered the goose leg. “I have many reasons to thank you.”

“It's not necessary. The words I spoke to the jarls in your defense are true. There's been enough death. It's time for life.”

“I hope all that I can give you will be enough.” The nearly bare goose bone trembled in his hand. “Perhaps I should return to my shop. We'll need food. In the spring I wish to build you a house. If I have no work—”

“I wish you to stay with me.” Firm, but gentle. She didn't want to return to her room alone tonight. And given his concentration on the torc earlier, she suspected he would forget he had a wife and a place to rest his head if she didn't take him there herself.

“Then it shall be done.” Eoghann shoved aside the remains of his meal. “My greatest contentment is to make my lady happy.”

“You jest. I see it in your eyes. There are many things that would make you more content.”

“I don't mean to disagree with you, wife, but you're wrong. My duty is to you before all else.” He took her hand, then brushed his lips across her knuckles. “I suspect that duty should direct me to our chamber.”

“If you're finished.” Her voice came out breathy. The way Eoghann stared at her made her blood rush. He appeared ready to devour her, and she would gladly allow it.

He leaned close to her ear. “You need only ask any time.”

She swallowed. Could he know her thoughts? If he didn't yet, he would soon. She didn't hesitate, but clasped his hand harder, then rose from the bench.

Eoghann followed willingly and they left the low buzz of conversation in the hall behind.

 

Chapter Three

 

Idunna woke to the soft tickle of fingers across her abdomen. She lay on her back and her skin pebbled as Eoghann's hand trailed up her stomach. The fire, low and dull orange, told her it must be early morning.

He rested his head on her shoulder, all his attention seemingly focused on her chest and the space between her bare breasts. The short trace of his beard rubbed her bare skin—a pleasant sensation.

She lifted her head a bit and his gaze shifted to hers.

Hints of a smile played at his lips and crinkled around his eyes. “I've pulled you from pleasant dreams.”

“There are less pleasant circumstances to wake up to.” She covered his hand. “Shouldn't you be asleep? Dawn will come shortly.”

“And another tomorrow and another the day after that, but how many of them will allow me the pleasure of laying here looking at my wife while she sleeps?”

“What good is watching me sleep?”

The smile vanished. “It's the only time I don't worry I'll do something to displease you. To make you regret our marriage bond.”

She cupped his face. “Stop. There's no need to think of those things. You've not given me reason to wonder if I made a poor choice.”

Eoghann recoiled from her touch. “I killed your husband. Perhaps not with my own hand, but my part in what happened at Freysteinn—”

“Is past. You are repentant, are you not?” The thought that he might turn on her seemed impossible.

“More than you'll ever know.” He rolled onto his back, gaze on the ceiling. “I'm sorry for my part in all of it. I helped forge the swords that cut men down. Created the pain on the widows' faces and tears in the fatherless childrens' eyes. Instead of punishment, I received a reward beyond measure. How is that fair, Idunna?”

She curled next to him and threw her leg over his. His chest rose and fell beneath her hand. Rough scars decorated his flesh. Proof of his bravery or torment, she didn't know. It didn't matter, for he was here with her, alive. “Nothing in the world is fair. Life and death happen without us choosing. Almost always. You're troubled, Eoghann, perhaps rightly so, but there is not a man or woman in this village who hasn't made some decision, some deal, in order to save his or her life. While I wasn't the happy bride I pretended to be when I was married to Ask, without him, I might be dead. Had you not carried a sword to Freysteinn, those savage Saxons would have killed you outright. I don't need to visit them to know. The past is a wretched place to remain. Join me here, now. For you were not one of the warriors who died on the battlefield. You are no spirit who wanders in vain for chances missed. You're a man—the man I chose.”

He pulled her to him and captured her mouth. Their tongues met, hot, searching. Hungry. Though they'd made love twice after leaving the dining hall, her husband seemed insatiable. He grabbed her hips, then slid her over him. Beneath her rump, his erection stood strong. Whatever his failings on the battlefield, he had no such problem in bed.

She ached for him to fill her, craved his touch. Idunna leaned down, her face a hairsbreadth from his. Their lips nearly touched. “How badly do you want me, husband?”

His breath rushed out as his hands came up to cradle her breasts. “Enough to die for you. Your men speak of Valhalla, of eternal battles and feasts, but what more perfect reward for a life of bravery is there than the delight of a woman's body?” He throbbed at her entrance. Eoghann lowered his left hand and slipped it between them. One finger slid across her damp slit. “A single night is worth more than all of the saffron in the Orient. More than jewels or silk. I would give every drop of blood in my veins to know I provided you pleasure.”

Idunna lowered herself over his shaft. She arched her back as she sank onto him.

He put his hands on her hips and shifted, then pushed himself deeper.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth to stifle a gasp. Every stroke of his cock carried her closer to a tide of bliss. The minute pain of her teeth against her lip reminded her to hold back until he released his seed. She craved a son or daughter as much as his body.

He rolled his hips, hard and spasming as he found release. She let go and allowed the warm sensation of sex to fill her.

The strength wicked from her limbs, Idunna slid off him and wilted into the blankets. She curled on her side, unable to fight the smile her lips formed.

Eoghann slipped his hand between her legs and curled around her. Two fingers dipped into her sex, a firm plug.

“You'll have a child yet if we manage this each night.” His breath stirred her hair. Sleepy words, filled with satisfaction.

“Then I shall have all of my heart's desires.” Her eyelids fell, dragged down by lull of more rest before morning's first light.

* * * *

The glass furnace's heat warmed Eoghann's blood, though not in the same way Idunna did. His need for her stemmed from pure lust, driven by the desire to keep her happy. Sweet Christo, he'd all but declared love for her in the early morning hours. Love, a useful emotion for manipulation, could be turned against him in a heartbeat. Once she had her home filled with children, what use could he be to her? Part of his heart claimed sweet-face Idunna would never turn on him. The woman who spoke fiercely to him this morning wouldn't throw him away as Ironfist had threatened so many times. The part of his heart that had tasted the bitter sting of betrayal believed differently.

Using the punts, he heated glass through the slots between the furnace's sides. Blue glass stretched as he drew it out between the punts. Decorative beads were worth as much as any of the gold jewelry he made. If he could find buyers. And they were far less deadly than the swords and knives he'd hammered in Edinburgh.

Scuffling at the door made him turn from the fire.

Ealasaid held a small bundle in her arms. Not the baby Fulla, for it was too well-wrapped to be a child. “I hope you have a moment to spare for your sister.”

“If we can speak while I work.” His clay-coated mandrel waited to receive the liquified glass. “I've already started, you see.”

“So be it.” Her tone suggested annoyance, as did the line between her pinched brows, but she stepped deeper into the shop. “I brought food as you have a habit of missing meals. This weather's not kind to a weak man.”

He smiled as he wound glass around the mandrel. “Such a sweet gesture from my little sister.”

“There's nothing sweet about my motives. My intention is to keep you from dying and making Idunna a widow twice-over.” A certain amount of frost filled Ealasaid's voice.

His fingers burned as he held them close to the flame to soften the glass and even out the shape. “Why should that concern you?”

“Idunna is my friend. And you, for your faults—stubbornness being the worst—are my brother.” She set the food on a bench and with grace, settled herself beside it. Her feet hung off the floor and she swung them as a child might.

“I've committed far more serious sins than a little stubbornness.”

“When will you forgive yourself?” Ealasaid leaned to better see his craft. “The blue is good. If I commission a treasure necklace, when can I expect it?”

“Why would you do that? You have one.” Pride—though tattered—made him grit out the truth from between his teeth.

She twisted the beaded necklace hanging between her brooches. “I'm the queen. Where is it written that I shouldn't have as many as I like?”

“The same place it says because I'm your brother, you don't have to take pity on me.” The clay coating allowed the bead to slip from the mandrel onto the bench. Soften the rod again, create another bead. The endless pattern helped soothe his troubles.

“It's not pity when my brother is a fine craftsman. When can I have the necklace, Eoghann?” She slid off the bench to peer around his shoulder at the blue bead. “A fortnight?”

He clenched his teeth, then nodded. “Aye. If you insist.”

“And it will be the finest in Solstad? No other will match it?”

The persistence she'd displayed as a child hadn't faded with time. He fought to keep from rolling his eyes. “Aye, you pest. The finest for the queen, my annoying little sister.”

She reached for the bead, then drew back. “I should like it with the silver flake beads too. And some white ones. Perhaps a few red. In fact, no more of three or four the same. I want to wear it during the Yule celebrations. Everyone will speak of its beauty and I shall tell them Eoghann Kentigern created it.”

“You'd best not if you hope to remain in the good graces of your people.” The second bead landed beside the first. “You'll be stoned to death the moment my name leaves your mouth.”

Ealasaid shook her head. “Where's your pride? If you pretend you're too good to make beads and jewelry for these people, they will clamor for your work. These are strong tools with a man of talent behind them. Show them something you're proud of, and they'll throw gold at you in exchange for it.”

Doubtful, he laid his tools aside. “You don't understand—”

“Don't I? A thrall risen to a queen's power. You think I won their hearts with my sweet temper? Cross words often find a way to my ears. Some are amazed a girl born to a murdered Saxon chieftain couldn't have faced her brothers in battle without hope that she'd get vengeance for old wrongs. Others rejoice that I would have given my life for them. I hear their praises and the rest be damned. Blood has been spilled, anger dogs many in this settlement and in Freysteinn, but we're not broken, not in spirit nor in body. Time will heal the hurts.” She placed her hand on his chest above his heart. “Trust yourself. Idunna does, I believe in you, and Hella follows my wishes. You have the king and queen on your side.”

“There are worse allies to have.” He hung his head. “Idunna desires a child. That's her reasoning for saving me.”

Ealasaid laughed. “You want my assurance that's the only reason she wants you in her bed? Have you not seen yourself? Battle scars and thinness aside, you are a handsome man. You possess the blood of great chieftains. Her children will be cousins to the next king.”

“I pray that kind of duty never falls to them. People want to kill leaders, sometimes for no other reason than to take power. And power often brings nothing but misery.” It was simpler to remain hidden, out of view from the public eye. In the end, who was royalty but the man with a sword sharp enough to call himself that?

Puzzlement replaced her mirth. “I doubt your poor offspring are in danger of falling into the line of succession. You don't want sons and daughters? A life with Idunna?”

“Of course I do.” He gritted his teeth again. Perhaps speaking to Ealasaid of babies was cruel. “Forgive me. Know that I have every intention of fulfilling Idunna's wish. Whatever befalls me once she's satisfied, I'll find a way to shoulder the trouble.”

“You're talking of divorce.” Ealasaid's brow rose. “Are you daft? Have you not seen the way she looks at you? The woman is no more going to throw you out of her bed than the moon is going to fall into the sea. She's cast aside all doubt and chosen a good, strong man to sire her children. Stop being stupid, Eoghann. It doesn't suit you.”

“Ah, that's the reason they call you Blade Tongue.” Yet her insult soothed him. No one could deny the honesty of a moment spent in anger. “I'd forgotten how free you let your tongue run.”

“As the matter is now settled,” she held up her finger to stop him from speaking, “I wish to know if you make swords.”

Sweat chilled his body. “Not anymore. No more weapons of destruction if you wish me to keep my sanity.” How quickly she forgot he'd bashed their brother's head in with an axe.

“Very well. I wanted you to make repairs to a sword Hella entrusted to me. It's a present for Birgir, but if you won't, then I shall see the man who made the sword I gave Hella on our wedding day. Don't fret over it. If you've finished with your glass for the present, eat the food I brought. How will you give Idunna strong
vikingr
babes if you don't eat?” She nudged the wrapped parcel toward him. “After all, the Kentigern never produced weak offspring. Daft and wild, perhaps, but not frail.”

“His children's children might be smarter yet. Ealasaid... Idunna told me about what happened after Birgir was born. Not all of it, but enough that I might not crassly ask when to expect another niece or nephew.” The heat at his back was no match for the embarrassment of bringing up such a wretched subject.

Ealasaid lifted her gaze to the ceiling. Tears shined in her eyes, but went unspilled. “I am grateful to have Birgir as my son and because the old king is dead. More grateful still that he never laid a hand on my boy as he often threatened to do. As his thrall, I was expected to bed him, but he never imagined I might take more of a liking to his son. The idea of mingling his bloodline with that of a Saxon enraged him.”

“They say you're still good with herbs. A woman of your talents knows well how to prevent unwanted offspring.”

A bitter smile twisted her mouth. “Aye, Blanid taught me thoroughly. Getting rid of a child might have been a smarter woman's way, knowing he might be ripped from my arms and sold, but my craftiness kept Birgir safe enough. I should have died when the White Raven ran his blade through me. He may have believed I was a völva
.
A witch. No mere sword could end me. I don't care to consider what might have happened to my son if I had died.” Her tears vanished and she squared her shoulders. “So we count on Birgir to take Hella's place when he's too old to reign. If not him, then Erik Agmar, should something terrible befall my family.”

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