Defiant in the Viking's Bed. Joanna Fulford

been through the same mill that I mention them.’

      Leif returned a wry smile. ‘I know.’

      ‘Someone has to watch your back.’

      ‘There’s no one I’d rather have at my back. However, this challenge I handle alone.’

      ‘Ah, like that, is it?’

      ‘It is.’

      ‘Well, well. She has lit a fire under you, hasn’t she?’

      ‘Mind your own business.’

      Finn merely laughed. ‘I take that to mean yes, then.’ As he eyed Leif his expression grew speculative. ‘Never tell me the lady is proof against your good looks and charm. I won’t believe it.’

      ‘She likes me well enough, although she doesn’t know it yet.’

      ‘I have every confidence in your powers of persuasion. In the meantime, there are other, more willing subjects present. The dark-haired beauty over there hasn’t taken her eyes off you all evening.’

      Leif followed the direction of his brother’s gaze and located the woman in question. She returned an inviting smile. He studied her a second or two longer and then looked away.

      ‘I leave that one to you.’

      ‘Don’t say later that I didn’t offer you the chance.’

      Finn left him and headed across the room. A few minutes later he was deep in conversation with the object of his attention. Leif watched them for a little while and then drank down the rest of his mead, wondering at his own behaviour. The dark beauty had been ripe for the taking, but he felt only indifference—even though, just a few days ago, he would have considered her worthy of his most assiduous attention. He turned away and went to look for another cup of mead.

      * * *

      Astrid lay awake for a long time, unable to shake off the implications of the discussion that evening. Far from attempting any amorous subterfuge, Leif had made his position quite clear. His interest in her had nothing whatever to do with marriage. If she offered him any encouragement now it would result in her being a mistress, not a wife. Not that she had the least desire to be either of those things. Once, long ago, the thought of marriage to such a man would not have displeased her. Since the married state was inevitable, all girls wanted a handsome, virile bridegroom. Back then it would never have occurred to her to question any of that. Now she did question it. Not that her doubts would carry any weight even if she had voiced them. In any case pleasing her would be the very last consideration when her uncle eventually found her a husband, and nor would she be consulted. Her husband could be old or ugly or cruel, or all three, and it would make no difference to Jarl Einar. He would see her wedded and bedded regardless, and by force if necessary.

      Old resentments woke and she tried to imagine a world in which a woman might be free to make her own decisions about such things; a world where she wasn’t subject to the will of powerful men. It was an agreeable fantasy. In the meantime, any dalliance with Leif would be disastrous. They had already spent longer together than was wise and she didn’t want him to take that for encouragement. Moreover, she never wanted him to think of her in terms of a possible conquest. His opinion shouldn’t have mattered. They were mere acquaintances and parting wouldn’t be long in coming once the festivities were done. The knowledge was attended by relief, but mixed with a twinge of regret. Leif was handsome and personable and somehow larger than life. She suspected that he wouldn’t be easy to forget.

      Chapter Three

      Two days later the first group of guests departed. Now that the wedding celebrations were over the rest would be gone soon enough and life would settle back into its familiar routine. Once Astrid would have felt content with that, but now it induced very different thoughts. Chief among them was restlessness. It had no apparent cause but it was no less strong for that. Perhaps it was a natural consequence of the recent excitement and festivity; one felt the lack when it ended.

      She turned away but, unwilling to return to the hall or the bower, headed in the opposite direction instead. A walk might help dispel her present mood. She was so absorbed in thought that she didn’t notice the man until she was almost upon him. When she realised who it was she would have retraced her steps—but by then it was too late.

      Leif smiled. ‘This is a pleasant surprise.’

      She eyed him askance. ‘A surprise, my lord?’

      ‘All right, I admit I followed you. Or rather I watched to see which way you were going and then took a short cut.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘I missed your company.’

      ‘I find that hard to believe.’

      ‘It’s true. Besides, we never got to finish our conversation the other night.’

      ‘I believe we did.’

      ‘If I have offended you I’m sorry for it.’

      ‘Forget it.’

      ‘I wish it were that easy. As it is I’ve thought of nothing else.’ He paused. ‘We need to talk, Astrid.’

      Her pulse quickened. ‘Everything needful has been said.’

      ‘No, it hasn’t.’

      He surveyed her steadily, waiting. She sighed. Since he wasn’t going to be dissuaded the quickest way to end this might be to let him say his piece. ‘Very well.’

      ‘I apologise if my manners have seemed rough; it is the result of having spent too long among fighting men. I am out of practice when it comes to gentler speech.’

      ‘Yes, you are, but it is no matter.’

      ‘Well, some things are best spoken directly.’

      ‘Speak, then.’

      ‘In a few days’ time I leave for my estate in Vingulmark. The place has been left in the hands of a steward and there are many matters requiring my attention.’

      The news created a flood of unexpected emotions. After this they really would not meet again. She realised she was going to miss him rather more than she’d thought. ‘Yes, I can see that.’

      ‘Come with me.’

      She stared at him. ‘What?’

      ‘Come with me, Astrid.’

      ‘You must be crazy.’

      ‘Perhaps. What I do know is that I don’t want to leave you behind; that I want you with me.’

      His arm slipped around her waist and then he was very much closer. She could feel the warmth of him, breathe his scent. The pulse became a drumbeat. She felt his lips brush hers, light, tentative. The touch sent a shiver through her that was not entirely to do with fear. The kiss became a little more assertive, more seductive, coaxing her mouth open, allowing his tongue to tease hers, persuasive and infinitely more dangerous, awakening sensations she had never known existed. His hold tightened and the kiss became intimate. She could feel the start of his arousal. Desire was replaced by something very like panic and she tensed, turning her head aside.

      He drew back a little to look into her face. ‘What are you afraid of, Astrid? You cannot believe I would hurt you.’

      She shook her head, not in agreement but in denial, knowing instinctively that he had the power to hurt her very badly. She wasn’t the woman he really wanted.

      ‘Well, then, what is it?’

      ‘I won’t go with you to Vingulmark.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘How can you ask that?’

      ‘You know how I feel about you, and I think you are not indifferent to me.’

      ‘You’re wrong.’

      ‘You’re