Viking Warrior, Unwilling Wife

‘He is my father.’ Sela planted both feet firmly and stared back at him. She knew why her father had acted that way and she did not have to explain it to anyone, least of all Vikar. Her father had protected Kjartan, and kept her secret. She knew the effort he must have made. ‘That is the only reason I need. What are yours?’

‘Peace for your people. A chance to end bloodshed before it was begun.’ Vikar put his hands on either side of her neck and his face close to hers. ‘I have conquered the hall and it will remain mine—with or without further bloodshed.’

‘You raided. You will get what you deserve.’ Sela took a step backwards away from him, away from his lips.

‘You will be saving your people. You need to think of more than just your own needs, Sela.’

‘My needs? You only think of your own.’ Sela wet her fear-dried lips. A small beacon of hope grew within her. It was possible that he did not know about Kjartan and that, somehow, she would find a way to keep Kjartan’s true parentage a secret. ‘And after that? Will you follow through with your threat? Will you force me to be your concubine?’

‘I have never had to force a woman.’ His eyes became a deep green, lit with a fire from within. ‘I never forced you.’

‘That is no answer. I want a bargain, Vikar.’

Vikar gave a weary shake of his head. ‘What is your price, Sela?’

‘My mother left me some land—to the north. After I have delivered you to my father and you have spoken with him, I want to take my family there, to live in peace. After my father has placed his hand on your sword and recognised you as the jaarl, allow us to end our days in peace.’

Sela risked a glance into Vikar’s face, but found it was devoid of emotion.

‘You ask a high price, Sela.’

‘I ask nothing more than my due,’ she said and waited as the silence grew.

‘After everything that needs to be done is done, we will speak of it,’ Vikar said when her nerves began to scream. ‘And I will not force you to return to the hall, if you take me to your father. I swear that on my sword.’

Sela rubbed her hand over her mouth. Not the exact answer she wanted, but it was better than nothing. Vikar had a reputation for being honest in his business dealings. She would have to be content with that.

‘We have a bargain.’

‘And how shall we seal this bargain?’ His eyes were on her mouth. A warm pulse coursed through her. ‘I have no wish to use force.’

Sela held out a hand. ‘As equals.’

His warm fingers curled around hers as she looked up into his eyes, deep-green pools that instantly became hooded.

‘As equals…if that is your true desire.’

He let go of her hand and stepped away. A small stab of disappointment shot through her middle. Why had she wanted more? How could she desire more? Why did all the memory of her humiliation flee at the thought of kissing him again?

‘My dagger, if you please.’ Sela held out her hand again, forced it to remain steady. ‘We are friends once again. There is no need for you to keep it.’

‘Are we friends, Sela? I need more than pretty words from your lips.’ Vikar made a mocking bow. ‘I shall keep the dagger…for right now.’

‘But I—’

‘I know what alliances mean to Bose the Dark’s daughter. My previous experience was not—shall we say, without complication. Forgive me if I remain cautious as to your true intent.’

‘As you wish.’ Sela lowered her eyes and examined the forest floor with its carpet of dead leaves, branches and pine needles. The portents were only death and destruction except for a single green seedling pushing its way through. ‘The truce will hold until I reach my father—whoever has possession of my dagger. I remain true to my promises.’

‘Do you?’ His lip curled. ‘How is it that the past holds such different memories for us?’

Sela shivered and wished she had made a better bargain ‘We need to go. And, Vikar, only force will ever induce me to return to that hall.’

‘But we go on my terms, not yours, Sela, Bose the Dark’s daughter. Remember who holds the weapons.’ Vikar blocked her way. ‘My patience wears thin and I am well versed in your tricks.’

An ice-cold shiver ran down Sela’s spine. Her gaze travelled from his firmly planted feet to his broad chest and finally met his unyielding eyes.

‘What a pity you made that remark, Vikar.’ Sela jammed her thumbs into the waistband of her trousers and struck what she hoped was an unconcerned pose. ‘Because I remember how you behaved as well.’

‘Do you know where you are going?’ Vikar called as Sela lead him around the same grove of birch for the second time. ‘Or are you just pretending to know, hoping against hope that I won’t discover the truth? The time that you pretended to Asa that you were an expert on the lyre springs to mind. Remember how I had to play the tune for you?’

‘I never said that I was an expert! And I had hurt my hand.’

‘Hurt your hand deliberately.’

‘No, that was your fault. You should not have chased me around the bed and I wouldn’t have fallen.’

‘You were the one to issue the challenge.’ Vikar pushed away the memory of them falling into bed together, her lips giving way under his, her arms pulling him down. ‘The fact remains you were incapable of playing to a crowd.’

‘I never ever said I could. Asa twisted my words. She made me.’

‘You don’t like to take the blame for anything.’

‘Only for those things I actually do.’ Sela stamped away, her backside slightly swaying as the trousers tightened across them. His body reacted instantly to the sight. Vikar frowned. Why should his former wife have this effect on him?

‘It can be a bit tricky at this stage, but I have rediscovered the proper way.’ She glanced backwards over her shoulder and gave a bright smile, transforming her face. ‘I had to be certain.’

‘Indeed.’

She had grown into her beauty. Four years ago, she had shown promise, but now there had been a full flowering, an enriching and deepening. Idly he wondered what had caused it, and why she did not use it to try to entice him into making an error. He would have to guard against it, for he had little doubt Sela would escape and leave him stranded in the middle of this forest if she could.

‘Sela…I am warning you.’

‘It is.’ Her lower lip stuck out slightly. Then she laughed, running her hand through her long hair, and Vikar caught a glimpse of the carefree woman who had been his wife, so briefly, the one who sometimes populated his dreams with her musical laugh and quick-fire wit. He had never known what she would do next, from what scrape she would need rescuing, what misdemeanour would have to be explained away. ‘I am starting to sound like Kjartan now.’

‘Kjartan?’ A cold prickling down went his back. Her entire being changed when she said the name.

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