Chapter 7
No sooner had Sven ridden through the town gate than he was proven right.
A rider was cantering in the opposite direction, coming toward him on a familiar horse. Steinar, on Fáfnir. As soon as he saw him, his brother brought the stallion down to a walk and joined him by the side of the road.
“What are you doing here?”
His brother didn’t know about his plans to repair Osbert’s roof. No one knew, and he wasn’t about to admit to it.
“I spent two days in town,” Sven answered. He often did, so there was nothing suspicious in that. “What about you?”
“Cwenthryth sent me to get her friend Eahlswith. You know, the one who visited the other day, after Liv’s birth?”
“Yes, I do know who you mean.”
Indeed. He’d just said goodbye to her with the most amazing kiss. Only the night before he’d been buried deep inside her, making her moan in the most scandalous way. Mm, he really, really liked the way she moaned.
“Yes, of course, you brought her home after finding her in the forest.” Steinar nodded. “Well. I hope she’s home. I wouldn’t like to get back to the village too late. I meant to go to the harbor to meet a merchant called Gorm before he leaves for London and I—”
“Go to the harbor now,” Sven suggested. “Let me take Eahlswith to the village. As you can see I was on my way home anyway.”
“You wouldn’t mind?” His brother sounded relieved. Trust him to put his wife’s request before his own plans. “It’s just that I’m not sure how long Gorm means to wait and I would hate to miss him.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” Riding with Eahlswith’s luscious body against his?
He definitely didn’t mind that. “Nothing wrong with Cwenthryth, I hope?” he asked, frowning.
Why was she suddenly desperate to see her friend?
He liked his sister-in-law and would hate to hear about a problem. “Or the babe?”
“No, no. Only, if Gorm has the news I hope he has, I might have to leave for a few days and Cwenthryth could do with her help. Little Liv is just as unsettled as Sanna was at her age and to tell you the truth, we are exhausted.”
The shadows under Steinar’s eyes made that clear, but the smile on his lips hinted that he didn’t mind.
“Well, don’t worry, I’ll take her back to the village.”
As he turned his horse around, Sven couldn’t help the satisfaction swelling in his chest. Fate was indeed smiling on him. Eahlswith had refused to arrange another meeting between them, but she would have no choice but to spend another few days close to him.
“Thank you,” Steinar said, nudging Fáfnir into a trot. “Come. I’ll show you where she lives.”
Even though he already knew where that was, Sven followed without comment.
She already missed him.
Eahlswith fell down on her chair in one heap.
Dear God, how was that even possible? He’d only been gone a moment; she’d all but pushed him out of the door in her haste to see him gone and yet here she was, sitting on her only chair, staring at the pallet, reliving what the two of them had done the night before.
How many times had he made her erupt in pleasure?
She had quickly lost count and just let him do what he did best—make her lose her mind.
Afterward, he had cradled her against his amazing body and she had fallen asleep in the blink of an eye.
It had been perfect.
Until she’d woken up in his arms and realized that she had done the worst thing she could have done for someone intent on keeping him at bay. How was she supposed to do what she needed to do after that night? That kiss?
Well, he was gone now, and she would have a few days, if not weeks, to come up with an answer.
She was wondering whether she should start hemming the new shift she was making for herself or go and see Godgifu at her market stall when a knock on the door made her jump. Who could that be? Osbert? Come to check if their visitor was gone?
No.
The door revealed a tall, blond Norseman with braided hair. For the space of a heartbeat, Eahlswith thought it was Sven. Then she saw that his hair was shorter, his clothes different—and the effect his proximity had on her, much less pronounced.
“Steinar?”
“Yes. Eahlswith, good morning.”
What was he doing here? “Is it Cwenthryth?” she asked, as fear suddenly seized her guts. She could only think of one reason for her friend’s husband to come see her unannounced. “Is everything all right? With Liv?”
“Yes, they’re both fine. Don’t worry. It’s just…
” He sounded uncharacteristically hesitant.
“Cwenthryth was wondering whether you could go to the hut for a few days. I might be absent and, with Liv hardly sleeping the night at the moment, she could do with the help. Not that it sounds very appealing, I understand, but she said you’d offered to help and well, to be honest, I was hoping you might still want to.
It would be a load off my mind to know she is not alone. ”
She smiled at his confused explanation. It was endearing to see such a strong, self-assured man worried about putting her out and so committed to helping his wife.
Which was why she decided to put an end to his suffering quickly.
“Of course. I did offer to help and I’m happy to come.
” Helping her friend would be the perfect way to distract her from her musings about a certain Norseman.
She opened the door wider, welcoming him in.
“Will you come in, have a drink while I pack a change of clothes?”
“I won’t, thank you. I’m actually on my way to the harbor to meet a man,” he said, glancing at a point to his right. “But my brother is here. I chanced upon him as I was riding into town. He will take you back to the village. I believe you met him when you last came to visit?”
Eahlswith’s heart sank because the only other one of Wolf’s sons she had seen during her visits to Cwenthryth was the one who’d just left her house.
The one she was desperately trying to get out of her mind.
The one she had hoped to get some distance from.
When Steinar moved to make room for his brother, she already knew she wouldn’t see the one named Torsten appear in the door frame.
“Eahlswith. Good morning.”
Sven walked into the room, as assured as the predator she had likened him to only the night before.
He was a wolf’s son indeed. Never had she seen a smile so full of teeth.
Perfect, straight teeth that had nipped at her skin.
She placed a hand over her neck, remembering how he had nuzzled at her throat while he took her in long, fluid strokes.
Did it show? Had he left a bite mark? Had Steinar seen it and guessed who had made it?
Had Sven told him about the two of them?
The questions threatened to make her mind explode.
“I’m going to take you up on your offer of a drink, if you don’t mind,” Sven said, straightening to his full height. “I still haven’t broken my fast. Would you have a slice of bread to spare, by any chance?”
The wretched man! He knew she’d been using the cutting of bread to avoid meeting his gaze earlier.
“I do, she said, refusing to dignify him with a glare though she was sorely tempted. “Please sit down while I get ready.”
“Thank you again, Eahlswith. This means a lot to me,” Steinar told her, before barking something at his brother in Norse. It sounded as if he was warning him not to inconvenience her. Had he noticed the tension in her body? She dearly hoped not.
“It’s my pleasure,” she told him.
A moment later Steinar disappeared through the door and Eahlswith was alone with Sven, who was looking at her with eyes aglow with mischief.
“So.” He crossed his massive arms over his massive chest. “It seems that fate decided to be on my side. That was remarkably quick on her part, don’t you think?”
What could she answer to that? Indeed she couldn’t believe that he was back already. It was not as if he’d contrived this meeting as well. It was purely coincidental. Steinar had been coming to her and had walked into his brother, who was leaving her house.
There was no use fighting fate.
“I will s-see to my clothes,” she stammered, wondering how she would deal with sitting on a horse with him all the way to the village.
Could she ask to walk by his side? No, not with her boots in the state they were.
Besides, Sven would never agree to it. And if she suggested he be the one to walk, he would refuse.
“No need to change,” he told her. “What you are wearing is fine.”
More than fine, the heat in his gaze said. Except that it hides too much of your gorgeous body.
How could he make her blood sing thus? Eahlswith felt as she would after a cup of particularly strong mead.
“I mean that I should gather some clothes to take with me to the village,” she specified, turning to go to the chest where she kept her meager possessions. The packing wouldn’t take long, as she didn’t own much.
“Of course,” she heard him say with what sounded like amusement. “Do you mind if I help myself to some bread?”
“No. It’s on the table,” she said, though he would know that already, having watched her cut slice after slice earlier.
“Is there any cheese left by any chance?”
Eahlswith gritted her teeth. Had she ever met a more infuriating man? He was taking pleasure in highlighting the connection between them.
“You’ll find it where you put it last night.”
“Of course. Silly me.”
She took as long as she dared to pack her things but eventually, there was nothing left to do. Sven had finished his bread and cheese and was watching her with ill-concealed delight.
Eahlswith took in a deep breath.
“Shall we?” she said, refusing to give him the satisfaction of initiating a conversation which would make her feel worse—or drawing him into another soul-shattering kiss. She wouldn’t make that mistake twice in the same day.
“But certainly. Your wish is my command.”
She didn’t answer. What would be the point?