Return of the Viking Warrior. Michelle Styles

of us planned. In the morning...’

      ‘The morning will look after itself. Right now, let me look after you.’

      Her breath caught in her throat. Once she had longed to hear those words from Ash, but now she knew they were meaningless phrases. The only person Ash looked after was himself. ‘No need. I am capable.’

      ‘Every need. You are my wife.’ He cleared his throat and stared straight at Valdar. Valdar glowered back. ‘I must leave you all. My lady wife begs for bed.’

      His voice echoed about the hall.

      There was a great stamping of feet and a fresh round of laughter. ‘A kiss! A kiss! A kiss! We want a kiss!’

      Kara froze. Not here. Ash was just proving a point to Valdar.

      His eyes turned speculative, then he shook his head.

      ‘I do my wooing in private. Haven’t you seen enough for one day? Find your own women.’ He glared directly at Valdar. ‘This one is taken.’

      He ushered her out of the hall into the cool night air, putting his hand firmly on the small of her back. The shouts and ribald jests followed them into the dark night. A large yellow moon hung in the sky, giving a real glow to the street. The sounds of the feast filtered out.

      ‘Thank you.’

      ‘For what? For not kissing you?’ He rubbed the back of his thumb along her mouth, making it ache. ‘I told the truth, Kara. I’ve no need to kiss you in public. I’m willing to wait, knowing what the prize is.’

      Easy words. She had made the mistake before of believing such things. It was deeds which counted, not words. Deeds lasted. Words faded as soon as they were uttered.

      ‘For leaving with me. My father...’ Kara’s throat closed as she thought of the humiliations her father had piled on her mother when he’d returned from his voyages and how her mother had retreated into her own private world.

      ‘Your father was a difficult man, plagued with his own demons,’ Ash said.

      ‘Anyway, I’m grateful.’

      ‘Feasts are a chore at the best of times. This one was far harder than most, but it is over...for both of us.’

      ‘You used to love them. You spent days practising your jokes and quips on me.’

      ‘I’d forgotten that. Hopefully I didn’t bore you.’

      Her mouth went dry. ‘I enjoyed hearing them. Sometimes...sometimes I think about them even now.’

      His eyes became huge pools of midnight blue in the moonlight. ‘Other things became more important. And my long-ago words were the babblings of an unwise youth.’

      She forced her face to turn away from him. In another heartbeat she’d melt into his arms and that was wrong. ‘I can find my own way home.’

      ‘You’re my wife. Allow me this. Allow me to keep you safe.’

      The stones in the road swam in front of her eyes. She blinked rapidly. The only person who could keep her safe was her. ‘I’ve no objection.’

      They walked in silence to the door of the small house she used when she was in Sand. The night held the chilly promise of winter. In the sky, a large harvest moon hung, illuminating the silent town in silver.

      It seemed such a short time ago that she’d left the house to marry Valdar and now she was returning with a different husband, one she had once mistakenly thought knew her intimately, but now was a total stranger.

      Kara gave him a quick glance. Would he want to stay? Would he expect it? The house was his by right. She could hardly refuse him entrance, but she could refuse him her bed. It was too much to tell him about Rurik tonight. No one had said anything at the feast despite her worries.

      His set face gave nothing away.

      ‘Here we say goodnight.’ She held out her hand as they stopped beside the door.

      ‘Kara...’ He reached for her, tilting her chin upwards. ‘Is that how you say goodnight? When did an ice giant touch your heart?’

      In the pale moonlight, his face had become like Loki’s—beguiling, but treacherous. It would be easy to melt into his arms and give her mouth up to his touch, but also it would be the worst thing she could do. She had finished believing he was what she wanted. She no longer had need of heroes. She needed a steady man. To bring up Rurik properly.

      Rurik.

      Her mouth went dry. She needed to tell him. Before anyone else did. She had kept trying to find the correct way on the journey home, but her mind had been devoid of ideas. It had to be done right.

      ‘That would be unwise, Ash.’

      His hand fell to his side. ‘Why?’

      ‘Much remains unsettled. We need to finish our discussion. I won’t be forced or seduced. Ash, I know your tricks. You say things you think people want to hear. I remember enough about your old stories to know things were far more difficult and less pleasurable than you made out in tonight’s speech. Some day, when you’re ready to tell me what truly happened, then maybe we can begin again.’

      She watched him silently and willed him to tell her the truth of why he’d been gone so long. After that, she’d confess about their son. It was hard knowing the right time and way to say it. How did you tell a man that he had a six-year-old son?

      ‘I wasn’t planning on asking to stay unless you requested it. We go at your pace, Kara. I’ve never forced a woman. I’ve no plans to change that habit, particularly not with my wife.’ His hand caught a strand of her hair and wound it about his finger. ‘Are you afraid of admitting that truth? You desired me as much as I desired you. And I still desire you. We could have beautiful children, Kara. You always wanted children.’

      A cold prickle ran down her spine. It was the opening she’d waited for. She had to tell him the truth before she gave into cowardice. Ash had to hear about Rurik from her, rather than learning from someone else. She silently prayed that she would not have to tell him the full story. Not tonight.

      ‘Ash, listen to me.’ The words came out in a rush as she tore her hair from his grasp. ‘Everything between us changed six years ago when I gave birth to your son.’

      His mouth dropped open. In the pale moonlight, the laughter drained from his face. He looked as if someone had hit him over the head with a sword. He shook his head as if to clear it and all the while watching her with a stunned, uncomprehending face.

      Her stomach roiled. She had said the words far too bluntly. She should have eased her way in.

      ‘I have a child?’ The words were barely above a whisper. Shocked and utterly unlike his usual voice. ‘A son from you?’

      ‘Yes, we have a son—Rurik.’

      A son. He had a son. His son. The words pounded into Ash’s brain.

      The overwhelming tiredness fell away. He was a father. He scarcely knew what to think or say. He was utterly unprepared for it.

      He had never even thought of the possibility. Never allowed his mind to consider such a thing as a child of his own. Kara had had his child. All sorts of conflicting emotions coursed through him—elation at having a child and the horror at knowing how unworthy he was, as well as a sense of responsibility and the bitterness of regret.

      His son had grown up without him—cut his first tooth, taken his first step and ridden his first horse without Ash being there to see it. He had always sworn that he’d never do that to a child, behave like his father had done. But he had. He’d been even worse. His father had at least welcomed him into the world before departing for four years of adventuring. Ash had never seen his boy. Never even considered his existence.

      Was ignorance an excuse? Not for the first time, Ash wanted to turn back the sands of time.

      He