The Pagan's Prize (33 page)

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Authors: Miriam Minger

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Viking, #Medieval, #General, #Historical Fiction, #Romance, #Historical Romance

BOOK: The Pagan's Prize
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"Forgive me, Princess." Rurik stroked her
damp hair as her tears soon soaked his chest. I wasn't thinking. I should have
known I might alarm you, but it never occurred to me."

He hadn't frightened her, Zora wanted so desperately to
tell him as she sobbed harder than she could remember ever having done before.
But if she said that, he would want to know what had brought on this bout of
tears and she wasn't ready to tell him that either! Not when she still wasn't
sure if he would even want to hear how she felt . . . if it even mattered to
him how much she loved him, how much she feared for him . . . how much she didn't
want him to leave her . . .

"Easy, Zora, it can't be that bad," he said,
holding her slightly away from him and tilting up her face. Tenderly, he
stroked her tearstained cheek with his thumb. "Sshh, now, everything's
fine. We're out of the water and you're here safe with me. Sshh . . ."

Staring into his eyes, her vision blurred from crying,
Zora felt herself soothed by his words despite the ache in her heart, and she
shuddered in his arms, her sobs gradually lessening. She did feel safe and warm
and protected and, with each passing moment, more in control of herself.
Shuddering one last time, her hiccup brought a smile to Rurik's face.

"That's it, little one. It was only a small scare.
Nothing to cause so many tears."

Zora softly drew in her breath as Rurik bent his head
and pressed his lips to hers, the warm pressure of his mouth lulling her more
than anything he could have said. Then she hiccupped again, and to her
amazement, she found herself giggling when he chuckled against her mouth.

"How quickly the fair lady's feeling better,"
he teased, his breath warming her lips. "Perhaps another kiss and she'll
forget what so upset her."

Rurik's lips this time were not so gentle, his
tightening embrace swamping Zora with excitement. Yet she knew nothing that he
did could make her forget the anguish lying hidden inside her.

And she didn't want to forget! She would share with him
just how she felt but not in words, for she couldn't bring herself to voice
what she held in her heart. Yet there were other ways, ways perhaps more
expressive than anything she could say . . .

It was Zora who deepened their kiss, her wandering
tongue surprising his as she wantonly tasted the inside of his mouth, her hands
gliding up Rurik's chest to his immense shoulders where she caressed muscles
that were wonderfully hard beneath her palms. If at first he had seemed
startled, he soon groaned with pleasure, yet he did not allow her to keep the
upper hand for long.

His tongue sought to ravage her mouth as wildly as she
had just done, their kiss becoming a passionate dueling that made Zora feel as
if she were on fire. Wrenching off the blanket that was only fettering her, she
pressed herself that much closer to Rurik's body, for his was the heat she
craved. His was the kiss she wanted, and as she slid her hands up the back of
his neck, her fingers funneling along his scalp and entwining in his hair, she
cried out to him in her mind.

I love you!

She felt herself falling backward as Rurik pushed her
to the spongy, moss-covered ground, his mouth burning a blistering path down
her throat and across her shoulder while his masterful hands stoked the flames
building inside her. She caressed him in kind, his powerful back, his upper
arms so thick with muscle, the massive breadth of his chest and the crisp
golden curls upon it, delighting in the smooth texture of his skin and the
sun-warmed scent of his body.

Then she strayed even lower, wrapping her fingers
around silken steel and muscle, exulting when Rurik groaned and called out her
name. But she didn't stop, squeezing and stroking him until his body was
shaking and he rolled onto his back as if he feared he might collapse upon her.
Zora was astride him before he could reach out to her, her lips branding the
spot above his racing heart.

I love you!

She moved lower, her hands splayed upon his taut abdomen
as she kissed the glistening blond hair trailing to his navel. Then she teased
the sensitive hollow with her tongue while Rurik cried out again.

"Woman . . . !"

He tried to pull her up to him but she deftly eluded
his hands and found what she had been seeking, his turgid flesh leaping against
her mouth as she kissed him and began to stroke the thick length of him with
her tongue. Already he was tossing beneath her but she didn't stop, torturing
him relentlessly as she drew him with a swirling caress into her mouth.

She tasted a wetness and knew he was very close to
release, but she wanted to tease him to the brink of endurance. Her fingers
enmeshed for a brief instant in the thatch of blond curls she found so arousing
before she drifted lower and cupped him in her hand, squeezing gently.

"Zora, enough!"

Rurik's voice was so hoarse with passion that she knew
she could not sway him and she didn't resist when he pulled her up beside him
and pushed her once more on her back. Before she could blink he was poised
between her legs, his midnight-blue eyes sweeping her with a look of fire.

"Where did you learn such wicked things, Princess?"

Zora gasped as he easily slid his fingers inside her
before she could answer and teased her legs wider apart as she arched beneath
his carnal caress. She already wanted him so badly, she was trembling from head
to toe, and she cried out when he buried himself deep inside her with a ragged
groan.

"Hold me, Zora . . . hold me!" came his wild
plea and she gripped him with all her strength, her arms flying around his neck
and her legs locking at his back.

She felt him stiffen, heard his breath snag in his
chest . . . then her own climax came upon her so suddenly that she felt hot
tears burn her eyes, but this time they were tears of sweet fulfillment. When
she at last opened her eyes heart-pounding moments later, she was staring up
into the clear blue sky, Rurik's damp head resting upon her shoulder, his
breath warm upon her cheek.

It was so wonderful holding him like this that she
wished it could go on forever and she hugged him tightly, willing him to stay.
Yet she knew that soon he would roll from her, fearing as always that he might
crush her even though she had insisted time and again that she was stronger
than she may appear.

Just as she had thought, he shifted and rose onto his
forearms but instead of lifting himself from her, he smiled into her eyes. She
smiled back, hoping that he could read what she could not yet tell him . . .
I love you, Rurik Sigurdson.

"You know, wife, you never cease to amaze me,"
Rurik said gently, struck as ever by her tawny beauty but even more so by the
softness in her gaze. By the gods, surely she would not be looking at him like
that if . . .

"How so?" she replied, the warmth in her
voice only fueling a gut intuition that he wanted so badly to believe. Tempted
as never before to admit what lay in his heart, he nonetheless forced himself
to think rationally, his fear of betrayal rearing its ugly head like a thing he
could not control.

"Tears one moment, passion the next." He
shrugged. "You're a hard one to understand."

"Not so hard as you may think, Rurik," said
Zora, wondering why he had grown so somber when he had been smiling at her an
instant before. "I could say the same about you . . . although I believe
there are things you haven't shared with me yet that could explain so much."
To her amazement, he suddenly seemed irritated, and rolling to one side, he lay
next to her on his back, stone silent as he stared up at the sky.

She had never seen him quite like this before, sensing
in him an agitation that was palpable enough to touch.

Usually after their lovemaking, he was open and willing
to talk, and so they had, about his childhood and his life since he had left
Norway for Rus, his quick rise within her uncle's ranks. About his trading
ventures to far-off Byzantium, and even how he had come to be called
Beast-Slayer, a story that had convinced her if any wild creatures had come
after her in the woods the night of her escape, Rurik would have had no trouble
bringing them down.

The only thing they hadn't talked about was the woman
who had betrayed him, and she couldn't help thinking that perhaps that was what
he feared she was going to ask him now. Well, why shouldn't she? She could
hardly ease the treachery from his heart as Lady Ingigerd had said if she didn't
know the full story behind it.

Taking a deep breath, Zora raised herself on one elbow
to face him. She didn't think to cover her nakedness with the blanket, for
their intimacy was such now that she felt completely at ease around him. He
knew every inch of her.

"Rurik?"

He refused to look at her, convincing her all the more
that he sensed exactly what she was going to say.

"Why did you swear never to marry?"

His expression became grimmer but he didn't get up and
walk away, which to Zora was a good sign.

"You already know the answer to that, Princess.
You have thrown it in my face once before."

"Yes, I know, and it was unkind of me," she
said, watching him for his reactions. "I was hurt that day and I wanted to
hurt you back, but I don't think it's true anymore."

He met her eyes. "What?"

"That you're hard and unfeeling . . . that your
heart is made of stone."

He sat up so abruptly that she was taken by surprise.
Yet he made no comment although his jaw was working as he stared straight ahead
of him, his arms propped on his knees.

"What I meant is I've seen you with your children.
You love them, I can tell. And in a way, I believe you care about your
concubines, too. You could have dealt much more harshly with Semirah, yet you
didn't—"

When he glanced at her sharply, Zora fell silent,
almost losing her nerve to continue.

"What does Semirah or any of my concubines have to
do with my vow not to marry?"

"N-nothing," she said, her heart sinking. It
was obvious that he hadn't brought her out here today to explain why he had
gone to see his women, but she wasn't going to give up on the other, more
important issue plaguing her mind. Not yet, anyway. Sighing, she decided to try
another tack.

"What was her name, Rurik? The woman in Norway."

He looked away, his tone grown bitter. "Astrid."

Pained that he could yet feel so much emotion for a woman
who had hurt him so long ago, Zora nonetheless believed that it was all the
more reason to persist.

"Did . . . did you love her?"

Rurik exhaled in exasperation, dropping his forehead to
his arms. Why was she torturing him with these questions? And as for her
observation about his concubines, had she perhaps heard that he had visited
them yesterday?

Thor's blood, if he discovered that someone had broken
their oath of silence . . . !
He
wanted to be the one to tell her that he had decided to marry his remaining
women to five of his warriors, something to which his concubines had thankfully
made little or no protest, understanding what Zora now meant to him. But he
would tell her after tomorrow. After he was sure!

"I was young," he finally muttered. He raised
his head to stare in front of him again. "I barely knew the meaning of the
word."

Then, thinking guiltily that he was being far too harsh
and that there was no good reason why he shouldn't share this part of his past
with her other than how uncomfortable it made him, he added, "Yes, I
believed I was in love with her, but apparently she had only been toying with
me. When my brother Rolf's wife died after childbirth, Astrid was right there
to comfort him. I suppose a man who one day would be a powerful chieftain
seemed far more tempting than a second son who must make his way by sword and
by trade."

When Zora did not reply, Rurik turned to find her
studying him intently as if she didn't believe that he had told her everything.

"Does my answer not satisfy you?"

She slowly shook her head.

Sensing that this woman knew him far better than he
could have imagined possible, Rurik sighed heavily. "May I ask why not?"

"You speak Astrid's name with bitterness, yet I
cannot believe that it was only her betrayal that caused you to denounce all
women and to deem them worthy of no more a place in your life than to share
your bed and bear your children. No, I believe your hurt goes much deeper."

Her bluntless startled him. Wondering where she might
be leading him with such a pronouncement, Rurik decided to be just as blunt.

"If my hurt goes deep, it is only because I have
witnessed more treachery in women than loyalty—"

"Is that what happened to Sveinald?"

Rurik was as stunned by her question as hearing his
long-dead friend's name upon her lips. "How did you . . . ?"

"On the riverboat. Late one evening you began to
recite poetry with Kjell and I was still awake in the tent. I heard you speak
of Sveinald as your closest friend, and that he had lost his life because of a
woman—"

"Solveig, one of the loveliest women in the
Hardanger," Rurik broke in, struck by how much the memory still pained him
after so many years. "She led Sveinald to believe that she loved him no
matter the long-standing oath of blood vengeance between their two families,
and he was so taken by her beauty that he would heed no warnings, not even from
me. One night she lured him to his death, her three brothers falling upon him
with knives when he came to her bower. They cut him to pieces, then threw his
flesh to the dogs."

"How terrible," breathed Zora.

"No more terrible than what happened to my mother
because of another scheming woman," he added, his voice as harsh as she
had ever heard it as he turned his face from her to stare at some distant
point.

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