The Warrior's Runaway Wife. Denise Lynn

than gate duty.’

      ‘Gate duty is hard?’

      ‘Boring!’ both men answered at the same time.

      ‘What made you choose these two for this task?’ she asked Elrik.

      ‘Simple. Whenever I’ve need of men I trust without question, these two are first on my very short list. Since the three of us grew up together we can communicate many things without words. I know that when Fulke stiffens in his saddle that something questionable is ahead, or when Samuel hisses beneath his breath danger lurks nearby. I know without ordering and without a doubt that they will guard my back.’

      ‘And we trust Elrik to return us to Roul in one piece.’ Samuel said.

      Ahead of them, Fulke nodded in agreement.

      ‘So, the three of you are...friends?’

      Elrik shrugged. ‘I suppose you could say that.’

      ‘Perhaps,’ Fulke said while looking over his shoulder. ‘But I am not tucking either of you into bed tonight.’

      Samuel snorted before blowing a loud smacking kiss towards the other man.

      ‘Enough.’ Elrik ordered. ‘As evidenced by their behaviour we are more like brothers than friends. Even so, at times, someone has to be in charge.’

      Avelyn nodded. ‘Yes, I can see where some order at times might be needed. Do you think that someone in charge might order a break soon?’

      Samuel stretched, then yawned. ‘Now there’s an order that would be welcome.’

      Elrik looked up at the sky and, from the slight widening of his eyes, seemed surprised to discover the sun had already passed its cenit to begin its descent. He motioned towards a clearing just ahead. ‘We’ve ridden longer than I’d thought. We’ll stop here to eat and stretch.’

      Fulke and Samuel rode ahead. When Avelyn and Elrik arrived at the clearing a few moments later, the men had already started to unpack a leather sack of food.

      Elrik dismounted and, after removing the padding, he assisted her from the horse. The moment her feet hit the ground, Avelyn’s legs wobbled and she stumbled against him, clinging to his shoulders to regain her footing.

      His arms closed around her easily, as if they had done so countless times to support her and hold her close. ‘Take a moment.’

      The deep huskiness of his voice caught her attention. She looked up at the face so near hers. The hardness of the chest she rested against, the warmth of his embrace and his heavily lidded gaze warned her that taking a moment would not be wise. A shiver raced down her spine, leaving her less steady on her feet than she’d been a heartbeat before.

      Avelyn gasped softly and tore her stare from his. She pulled away, forcing her legs to hold her upright, and lowered her hands from his shoulders. ‘I am fine now. Thank you.’

      ‘You are far from fine.’ His voice had lost all traces of any warmth. In fact, he sounded decidedly angry. He took her arm and led her towards a log. ‘Sit down before you end up face first in the dirt.’

      She pulled free of his grasp and then took a seat. ‘You create such a lovely vision of me.’

      ‘You could have said something earlier about being stiff and tired.’

      Why was he now being so contrary? ‘Yes, I could have and then you would have complained about me slowing you down.’

      ‘I need to get you to King David quickly.’

      ‘Oh, yes, so he can hand me over to wed Sir Bolk.’ She stared up at him and quirked a brow. ‘Perhaps I should suggest that you would be a better mate for the ogre than I. Do you think your King might agree with me?’

      ‘Is that your attempt at humour?’

      ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I am quite serious. It seems to me that the two of you might have much in common.’

      ‘Such as?’

      ‘Surliness, impatience and arrogance to begin with. If you give me but a moment, I am certain I can find more things you share.’

      A muffled snort from one of the men let her know that they were paying close attention to this conversation. She didn’t care.

      ‘Arrogance?’

      ‘Yes, you heard me correctly. Arrogance.’

      His threatening glare deepened, but Avelyn refused to let it intimidate her. She held his dark stare with what she hoped was a threatening glare of her own.

       Chapter Four

      Elrik knew he was directing his frustration towards her unfairly. He wasn’t angry with her in the least, simply frustrated. And he had no explanation why just holding her close in his embrace for a few short heartbeats had left him so...wanting.

      Countless times since leaving King David, he’d reminded himself that the King was right—she had played no part in the harm her father had brought to the Roul family. She was not to blame and in fairness he could not take his hatred for Brandr out on her.

      Yet, a small, tiny part of his mind warned that he did not know this woman and had no idea how much of her father’s evilness had been passed to her. While it could be none, it could also be a great deal. There hadn’t been enough time for him to decide.

      Now, if his mind could just convince the rest of him that she was not to be trusted. It had been years since any woman had had this type of effect on him and he wasn’t sure why. However, as confused as he was by his own reaction, hers left him just as surprised.

      Instead of quietly accepting his change in mood, like most people did, she’d raised her eyebrows as if judging him, only to find him lacking and had then given him a taste of her own temper.

      Complaining would only make him appear foolish since he did deserve it.

      He found her reaction to his change of mood...interesting. Had he snarled at one of his men, in the same manner, they would have said nothing before giving him a wide berth.

      Yet here this little bit of a woman who barely reached his shoulders glared at him and intentionally taunted him in a manner that made him wonder how many times she’d poked a stick at a beehive in her past.

      Elrik felt his lips twitch and knew that without clenching his jaw he would soon find himself grinning like a fool. Unable to summon the will to stop himself, he laughed in surrender as he took a seat next to her on the log. ‘Since I would rather kill Bolk than look at him, I do not think we would be a good match.’

      Avelyn reached down to pick up a twig. While flicking off the bark with her fingernail, she asked, ‘How do you think I feel?’

      ‘I fully understand your position, but what can I do about it?’

      ‘You know King David.’ She poked his arm with the twig. The tiny stick slipped easily between the links of his chainmail. ‘You could help me devise a plan he might find acceptable.’

      ‘I hate to lower your overblown opinion of my relationship with the King, but I do not know him well enough to know what he would or wouldn’t find acceptable.’

      She shrugged. ‘Maybe not, but you’ve been to his court and are surely more familiar with the things he values than I.’ Once again, she poked him before adding, ‘Besides, you are a man, so you could tell me what things might be of more value to another male.’

      ‘You noticed that, did you?’ He snatched the twig out of her hand and tossed it away. ‘First off, poking a man is not the way into his heart.’

      ‘Who said I was looking for a way into anyone’s heart? I’ve seen the pain caused by love and wish nothing to do with it or any other tender emotion.’

      Elrik