Chapter Sixteen #2
Tyr commanded his men with a mere gesture. In seconds, the cleric was escorted inside and forced to kneel at Henry’s feet.
“My gift to you,” Tyr said with a steely tone of satisfaction.
Much to her surprise, Uncle Henry took Rachelle by the elbow. “Is this the man that frightened you as a child?”
She didn’t want to look, but did. The priest’s eyes were downcast.
“Aye,” she said.
Henry’s teeth clenched. He backhanded the rogue cleric so hard he toppled. Rachelle stared, speechless.
“You’ve broken God’s laws,” Henry ground out. “Defied our king … stolen years of happiness from my niece she can never reclaim. I curse your soul.” He spit in the priest’s face.
“You haven’t the power to condemn me,” the holy man laughed, wiping his cheek with his dirty sleeve.
“I do.” Tyr interjected. “These are Odin’s sacred lands. And if I have anything to say about it, you’ll die a coward’s death. Take him outside,” Tyr commanded. “Now …” He pointed at two of Edwin’s men. “Fetch your lord.”
Edwin’s men propped him up and dragged him to the center of the tent. His head rolled forward. He moaned as his eyes fluttered open.
“You don’t deserve to share the lineage of the man who sired you,” Tyr said.
Edwin’s bloodless lips curled upward.
“Out of reverence for your late father and my regard for his legitimate heirs, my dealings with you end here. My men will escort you to Oslo where you will be expected to give full account of your treason to your brother.”
“And my wife?”
Tyr’s laughter was darkly intimidating. Rachelle deplored Edwin’s stubborn stupidity. How could he still call her his wife? Tyr grabbed a fistful of his tunic, lifting him off the ground.
“I’ll drop you where you stand if you ever mention her again.”
Eyes wide with fear, Edwin nodded.
“You made the right choice.” Tyr let go and Edwin dropped. “Get him out of here before I change my mind. Find the guards who manhandled Rachelle—keep them with the others outside until I am done here.”
Rachelle marveled at his authority. How did he know? Did the trees have eyes and ears? His ability to mete out justice astounded her. No one would escape his fury tonight. Tyr Sigurdsson was not a man to overlook betrayal.
Now, only Aaron remained. The space quickly cleared; only Uncle Henry and Onetooth were permitted to stay.
Tyr faced his cousin. “I’ve overlooked your misdeeds for years,” he began. “Countless freedoms have been yours. Nothing satisfied your wicked nature. I’ve shared my home, accepted your faith without question, and loved you as a brother. And how do you repay my generosity?”
Aaron gave no reply.
“You coveted my wealth and women. Spread lies about me, challenged my authority, and insulted me. All these things I could forgive, and did.” Tyr’s gaze settled on Rachelle.
“But once you kidnapped the woman I love, you destroyed any hope of reconciliation with me. Odin will judge your soul henceforth. For your betrayal, you will receive twenty lashes and leave my home.”
“I’ll be crippled,” Aaron declared.
“Do you prefer dead?” Onetooth countered, taking hold of his arm.
Rachelle covered her ears. She didn’t want to hear any more. She couldn’t get past the woman I love part. It rolled off his tongue so easily, as if he’d said it many times before.
She watched nervously as Onetooth and Henry escorted Aaron outside, leaving her alone with Tyr.
They glanced at each other.
She couldn’t move a muscle for fear of betraying her feelings. “I’ve had no time with my Uncle. There’s so much to say to him, how can I think of anything else?”
Tyr bent down and whispered, “I want no more delays.” His arms claimed her. “Henry knows how important our reunion is,” he said. “I promise, once we’ve finished, I’ll take you to him.”
Her head rested against his hard chest. She clung to him, feeling safe and warm. This magnificent warrior wanted her … a broken orphan … a Christian.
“Are you all right?”
His warm breath made her stomach flutter. “I think so.”
“Shall I answer your question now?”
She gazed up at him in wonder. “What question?”
“The one that has troubled you all this time. Why I brought you here. I’ll say it only once.
” He cupped her cheek. “You touched my heart, sweetling. Even when you were surrounded by violence and death, you demonstrated great courage. You never begged or groveled. Nor did you try to escape. You showed mercy to a man who could have killed you. You remained at my side while I honored my brother. I knew from that moment.” He tilted her chin, then brushed a tantalizing kiss across her lips. “I love you.”
She laid her hand across his chest, felt his strong and steady heartbeat. Joy heated her insides. Could happiness finally be hers?
“I want you,” he said hoarsely. “And I’ll spend forever proving it.” Tyr dropped to his knees. “Your Uncle has given his blessing. Marry me, merciful angel.”
Unable to complete a rational thought, she squeaked out a pathetic yes.
He climbed to his feet, his expression severe.
She wished she had been taught how to control her emotions and body.
She felt the blood drain from her face. All she could think about was the last time he’d touched her.
Those searing kisses—those gloriously large hands tickling and teasing.
That enormous bulge between his legs. What would he do with that?
“Are you still afraid of me?”
“Should I be?” Her voice cracked. Yes, she thought, I fear everything about you. I fear most what you make me feel.
Their foreheads touched. “Damn you, woman. Do you know what you do to me when you look at me like that?”
If he only knew what he did to her. His heated gaze elevated her to places she couldn’t reach on her own; above the moon and stars, quite possibly beyond the heavens.
He swept her off her feet, then carried her to the largest cot.
He laid her down reverently, and then ran a strong hand over her stomach.
Feather-light fingertips tickled her ribs and pinched the tips of her breasts.
He moved slowly. His expression changed with every pleasure-filled moan she uttered.
Why had she waited so long to welcome his affection?
As her hands slid up his arms, finding the opening of his shirt, his body trembled.
She palmed his chest—loving the feel of flesh and springy hair.
His lean, muscular body awed her. She couldn’t tear herself away if she wanted to.
He purred under her shy ministration, encouraging her to reach deeper inside his tunic.
With both hands, she fondled his hot skin, exploring the muscles that seized under her touch.
She hadn’t thought herself capable of fully enjoying sensual pleasures.
There’d always been mental obstacles in her way, her heart closed off from the rest of the world.
His deep voice vibrated in her ear. “I want to thrust inside you. Make you mine.”
She stared at him, silent.
“Do you know what I’m going to do to you, Rachelle?”
She knew what she wanted him to do, but dared not verbalize it. “No.” She still played the innocent.
“I think you do.” He hiked her skirts up, then nudged her legs apart with his hand. “I want to taste your sweetness, now.”
How could she do this with her Uncle only a few yards away? Oh no … she shouldn’t … she couldn’t.
Before further protest was made, he buried his face between her thighs.
His beard scraped against her sensitive flesh.
He stroked her stomach rhythmically, until she moaned with uncontrollable pleasure.
She writhed and tossed her head, bit her lip to keep from screaming.
A tongue and fingers shouldn’t be in the same place at the same time. Oh, sweet heaven.
She grabbed fistfuls of his long hair to steady herself as hot sensations ripped through her body. He licked and sucked the sensitive nub between her legs so hard she convulsed. His hands moved skillfully—faster and faster. Rachelle welcomed the invasion, riding his hand.
“Peak for me, Rachelle.” He flicked his tongue along the rim of her core, rotating his fingers inside her.
Her hips jerked as pressure slowly built inside her belly.
The vibration from his satisfied laughter felt so good.
He sucked harder until she finally surrendered.
The tiny pulses gradually subsided, leaving her in a mindless heap.
She stared at the roof of the tent, blindly reaching for him as he back away from her.
Tyr had captured every sensation of her sex with his lips.
Surely that didn’t satisfy his needs. She knew it didn’t—he’d waited so long for her.
Further proof this Viking god adored her.
“Are you all right?” He sat down gently beside her.
She turned her head toward him. “Aye.”
“I’ve wanted to do that since the day I met you.” He kissed her lips. “That’s only the beginning,” he warned with a grin. “We’ll explore together.”
She nodded.
“Meet me outside when you’re ready.” He stood, then picked up his weapon belt.
While securing it around his waist, he walked to the table on the other side of the tent and washed his face and hands.
Then he poured a glass of wine, took a long sip, gargled, and spit on the ground.
“I love your scent and taste, but it’s only for my pleasure.
” He smiled, leaving her to collect her wits.
Executions and weddings weren’t supposed to happen on the same day.
But there was no avoiding it. The renegade priest and guards who abused Rachelle were hung.
After Onetooth rewarded the vainglorious Edwin with several lashes, he quickly repudiated the validity of his marriage to Rachelle.
With nothing else preventing the ceremony, Tyr nearly refused to let another moment pass without exchanging wedding vows.
But first, he offered his betrothed a gift.
Onetooth and Uncle Henry smiled at Rachelle.
“What is it?” she asked excitedly.