Chapter 20
This morning the sky appeared even wider than usual, and ablaze with colors.
Long strands of crimson and orange stretched over a mass of purple clouds so dense it looked as if mountains had appeared overnight over the horizon, changing the landscape.
The illusion didn’t last long. Little by little, blue patches of sky pierced through the mass, the flames faded away and soon, nothing was left of the dramatic flare that had transformed the world the space of a precious moment.
The sky was restored to his usual, pale blue.
The display had been as brief as it had been spectacular, reminding Gytha of her time with Haakon. A few short weeks of shocking intensity followed by an interminable month of lethargy.
A tear escaped her eyes. Her mother used to love watching sunrises and sunsets with her. She would have loved to see this one.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she heard her father say from behind. He landed a hand over her shoulder, giving it a light, comforting squeeze. He had read her thoughts. “And I agree. She would have loved it.”
“I do miss her so.”
“Me too.” Another squeeze. “And I worry for you, Gytha. I think I know why you’ve been sad lately.”
“Sad?” She had tried her best to hide her feelings and she had hoped her father would not have noticed.
“Yes. Having recovered little Osberga was good but it means that we don’t get to see Wolf anymore. Or…Haakon.”
Gytha took in a sharp inhale. He did know. Despite her efforts to try and behave normally, he had seen her despondency and he’d attributed it to the right cause. “Oh, Father, I don’t know what to do.”
“If that is because you’re worried he would only want you because you’re the reeve’s daughter, then push this idea from your mind. Haakon doesn’t care about that.”
No, she didn’t think he did. But that still didn’t mean he wanted her. “I don’t know what to do,” she repeated.
“It’s easy. Go to him.” Her father turned her so that she could face him. “If you think he has been as sad as you have been in the last month, if you think there is even the slightest chance he wants you as you want him, then go to him.”
Her eyes started to burn at the thought of finally being reunited with the man she had fallen in love with.
But was it really as easy as her father was saying?
From the start, everything between her and Haakon had been skewed.
They had kissed before knowing each other’s names, they had been sent on a mission they had not chosen and forced to work together.
Some people had been told they were betrothed, others had assumed they were married.
She had played a role to hide her inadequacies, he had taken her for a woman of experience.
It had all been a whirlwind of lies, misunderstandings and false impressions.
But despite all that, what she had felt had been real, and what they had shared meant everything to her. Haakon had made a woman out of her, he had given her confidence, he had helped her through the most difficult loss of her life, and he had restored her faith in men.
She couldn’t think of a single thing she had done for him in return, a single reason why he would want her.
So…would she be humiliated if she went to him and told him what she felt?
There was only one way to know. But it required courage, courage she wasn’t sure she possessed. She inhaled sharply. She would simply have to find that courage, wouldn’t she? Perhaps fate had nothing to do with this, perhaps it was all down to her and what she was capable of.
“Go, daughter. Your mother didn’t hesitate when she thought she wanted me.
Fool that I was, I was waiting, thinking it would never work between us because her family would never accept a man like me.
” He gave a rueful smile, lost in memories.
“Don’t let Haakon be a fool like I was. You only get one life. Go live it.”
Gytha straightened her back. She wouldn’t be less brave than her mother, who had gone to the man she loved and made sure to get him.
She gave her father a hug. “Yes. I will.”
Haakon had just started to saw the branch in two when a knock on the door caused his grip on the tool to slip. Dismayed, he looked at the cut on his forefinger.
Soreinn! Injuring himself was the last thing he needed.
“What is it?” he asked in a snarl, opening the door with unwarranted violence, before taking in a sharp inhale.
Gytha was standing in front of him.
“What are you d-doing here?” he stammered. “Is there a problem with Osberga?”
That silly question was the first thing that came out of his mouth.
But he knew everything was fine, having seen the little girl earlier that day.
So why had Gytha come? He had spent so much time imagining what he would do the next time he met her, and now that the moment had come, he had no idea what to do—or say.
She bit her lip, looking at a loss herself. “No, I’m not here for Osberga. I’m here for me. I…” Her voice trailed when she saw the blood on his forefinger. “Oh, but you’re hurt!”
He gave a rueful smile as he gave his explanation. “That’s because I was cutting wood. A branch from the tree next to Wolf’s hut that needed trimming.”
Would she answer what he hoped she would? To his delight, she did. “Are you aware that most people would cut wood outside their hut?”
“Yes. Very aware. But I don’t think that women who sew in the middle of the forest can criticize me.”
The smile she threw him was blinding. How he had missed that, along with the joy she sparked in his heart!
“Why were you cutting the wood?” she asked, trying to peer behind him to where the branch was. She was stalling, betraying the same nervousness as he felt.
“I can’t tell you that.” Not yet. But she would find out in time.
“So secretive…”
“Yes.”
“Well, if you’re not going to tell me anything about this branch, at least show me your wound.”
“It’s nothing,” he said, lifting his hand up to prove it. The cut had already stopped bleeding.
But instead of agreeing it was just a scratch, Gytha took hold of the hand and lifted it to her lips.
Then, to his utter shock, she slipped his injured finger into her mouth.
Haakon watched, eyes ablaze, as she sucked to soothe the cut.
His insides instantly dissolved and his cock started pulsing in his braies.
Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? Of how evocative her actions were?
He was brought back to that first day in the forest, when he had startled her, causing her to prick herself. She had sucked her own finger then. She was now sucking his. They had gone full circle. It seemed significant somehow.
“Gytha, why are you here?” he growled. He was afraid of scaring her with his urgency, but he needed to know right now, before he lost his mind.
She let go of his finger, making him regret asking a question, and lifted enormous eyes to him. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because I’m about to tumble you into bed and I need to be sure this is why you came. Or at least, that you agree to have me.”
Gytha went hot to the tip of her ears when Haakon’s nostrils flared and his eyes flashed. Saying that he wanted her was one thing, but these involuntary proofs of desire had caused everything within her to leap.
Provoking his lust wasn’t why she had come, exactly, but it was a start.
And now that he was in front of her, all brooding and intense, she wanted nothing more than to let him do what he wanted with her.
If they slept together and he found satisfaction in her arms, it might make him more amenable to hearing her subsequent revelations.
It would also give her time to build up the courage to talk—and give her untold pleasure, always a good thing.
“Being tumbled into bed is part of the reason why I came,” she admitted in a breath. “I thought—”
He drew her into his arms before she could finish the sentence.
“You’ll be the death of me, you know that?” he said in a rasp, keeping her tight against his hard body. “The day we met, I had decided not to have anything to do with Saxon women, as they had only ever brought me frustration and disappointment.”
“Oh.” This was awful to hear, and it did not bode well. He wanted to tumble her into bed because he was a hot-blooded male and she appealed to his senses but that was it. He didn’t want to have “anything to do with her”, as he’d said, who was a Saxon.
Before she could start to panic he took her hand in his and leaned in, wrapping her in his wonderful scent and warmth.
“But before that, I had spent my life obsessing about them. From the time I was old enough to take an interest in women, Saxons drew me like nothing else.” His voice was little more than a purr. Gytha’s eyes closed of their own accord. “I was determined to make one of them my wife.”
“Oh,” she said again, her tone completely different.
“Yes, oh. I think you can understand my dilemma.”
Was he really saying that he was struggling with what he felt for her because he had elected to stay away from Saxon women and yet couldn’t stay away from her? Could she really hope they had a future?
She had once told Eadhild she should let Halfdan propose, as men didn’t like not being the one in charge.
But she was suddenly convinced that proposing to Haakon was the right thing to do.
He had proved enough times that he was not like other men and would not take offense or feel robbed of his masculinity if a woman took the initiative with him.
“So if a Saxon woman had asked you to marry her, you would have said yes?”
A pause. Then a smile. “It depends. I wouldn’t have accepted just anyone. If I had been that desperate, I would be married to Edita right now.”
“Mm. Yes. But if it was a woman you liked? A woman who likes to sew in forests? A woman who had asked you to help with the piercing of her ears? A woman who’d lain under you in a shepherd’s hut so that you could give her pleasure?”