A cooling breeze blew in the open window, the first to stir all day. It caused the candles about the room to flicker and sputter out nearly all at once.
Royce got up to fetch a candle from the hall to relight those near the bed, and Kristen shivered at the sudden loss of warmth next to her where the breeze touched her damp skin. She was ready to sleep. He obviously was not.
She turned on her side so she could watch him as he left the room, the dim shaft of moonlight that also came in through the window vaguely lighting his way. What was he thinking and feeling now? She had no way of knowing yet. But she at least had reason to doubt there was anger in his feelings, for he had been holding her close ever since they had made love the second time.
That second time had happened soon after the first, so soon Kristen had barely come back to earth from the wonder of her new experience, only to be caught up again in his passion. She smiled to herself, thinking she knew now why her parents spent so much time in their bedchamber. Brenna had tried to tell her what it was like, but there were no adequate words to describe such incredible bliss.
Royce returned, shielding a candle with the cup of his hand. The hour was late. He had made no effort to cover himself to leave the room. His nakedness apparently didn't bother him, any more than hers unsettled her. His bothered Kristen, though—not in embarrassment, but in the realization that seeing him like this could make her want him again, this soon after her desire had been so thoroughly sated.
His body was a sculpture of firm skin and thick muscle. He was superb in physique, from the long muscular legs to the thick neck rising from those immense shoulders. The bush of dark hair that reached his neck spread out over his upper chest, but tapered to a narrow line over the hard ridges of his stomach. He was not a slim man like his cousin, but a powerful man, and Kristen knew she could never grow bored of looking at him.
The candles on the wall shelf by the bed burned again, and Royce sat down on the bed. When he didn't lie down immediately, Kristen reached out to touch him, her fingers sliding softly up his back, then down again, teasing his hipline. She took her hand away when he turned his head to look down at her, his expression inscrutable.
"Why did you stop?"
"I do not know if you want me to touch you or not," she admitted frankly. "I come from a family used to kissing and hugging and showing love in touching. But if you are not used to it, you will think me bold."
"I already think you bold, wench," he said lightly as he lay down beside her, resting his head on his palm so he could still look down at her. "God's truth, I have never known anyone like you, who could express your love so freely, so unashamed. You make me wish it were possible to love you in return, to give you what you give me."
Kristen closed her eyes, hoping he had not seen the regret those words caused her and, aye, pain too, that he could speak them after they had just shared hours of the most incredible loving. He didn't have to say he couldn't love her. He could have kept that fact to himself and let her go on hoping for a while.
She looked at him again, but her pride was stung now, prompting her to ask, "Why do you mention love?"
She saw him tense and then frown. Good. He could not hide his damaged pride as well as she had.
"I stand corrected," he said tightly. "You have not said you love me, have you?"
"Nay, I have not. I like your body well, milord, but that is all there is between us."
"Very well," he sneered. "For a virgin, you do make an adequate whore."
Kristen sucked in her breath. It was too much, this derision. And she would not accept that insult any longer, not when the reason for it no longer existed.
"Call me whore again, Saxon, and I will scratch your eyes out!" she hissed furiously.
He grinned at her anger. " 'Tis a little late to be protesting what you have long admitted to."
"Nay, I never said I was a whore. You did."
"You never denied it."
"You know why."
"I do not," he replied. "But I am most curious to know why now."
"Then recall what you told me in this very room. You said you would rape me if I were a virgin. I wanted you, but not that way."
He smiled at her, then suddenly he was laughing, a deep, hearty sound. "God's breath, wench, you took seriously something I said in anger?"
Kristen glared at him, finding his humor ill-placed. "Are you saying you would not have raped me had you known I was a virgin?"
"Nay, for in truth, had you fought me tonight, I would have taken you anyway and you would have called it rape, while I would call it my right."
"I do not mean that, Saxon," she replied impatiently. "I know you feel you have the right to use me as you will, and I may contest that another time, but not now. What I—"
"Oh, you will, will you?"
"Let me finish! Would you have taken me apurpose, in revenge?"
"Nay, Kristen, not that," he said softly, and his hand lifted to her face to smooth the frown on her brow. "Is that what you feared?"
"Aye," she muttered.
He smiled at her tone. "We are well met in mistaking each other. I wanted you, but would not touch you because I thought you a whore."
"And a Viking," she reminded him.
"Aye, but that seemed not to matter the more I saw you. 'Twas thinking you were so free with your body that disgusted me."
She giggled then, and caught his hand, pressing it to her cheek. "Do I still disgust you, now that I have been so free with my body?"
He knew she was teasing him, but he was not used to this kind of teasing. He lay down on his back, pulling away from her.
"Who are you, Kristen?"
"That question concerns you overmuch, I think."
"The gown was yours? I was correct in that?"
"Aye, 'tis mine." She sighed.
"Since you cannot have had a husband, I must assume your family is rich."
"My father is. Will you ransom me, then?"
"Nay," he said curtly, drawn to his side to look at her again.
She reacted to his annoyance in kind. "A wise decision, milord, for he would make you marry me."
"The devil, you say! Marry a Viking maid?"
"You need not make it sound a fate worse than death," she retorted.
"For me it would be!"
"Ohh!" she gasped. "For that slur, Saxon, I will see you do marry me!"
"You are mad!"
"Am I? Well, I am also the daughter of the man who will kill you when he comes to find me!"
She regretted saying that the moment it was out, but more so when Royce leaned up to grip her shoulders in anger. God's teeth, how they sliced each other with petty spite. What was wrong with her tonight to make her tongue so wickedly loose?
"Are you saying more Vikings will come here, Kristen?"
She groaned inwardly at the coldness in his tone. She had done that. And he had been in such a pleasant mood only moments ago. So had she, for that matter.
She decided to be truthful. "Nay, Royce, 'tis unlikely. My father would not have approved of the men coming here, so they did not tell him. He is a merchant. He thinks his ship sailed to the market towns, for 'twas a trading voyage. He has no way of knowing they sailed here first."
"Then why did you say what you did?"
She started to smile, but thought better of it. "You should heed your own advice and not take seriously what I say in anger."
He granted at that, but he latched on to what she had revealed. "You say the ship was his? Then was it your brother Selig who led the men?"
"I did not tell you he was my brother," she said suspiciously. "How did you know?"
"Meghan told me. But why would you not want me to know?"
"I thought you would think it unusual if you knew my brother had been with me on the ship, when you thought I was the ship's whore."
"I did think it unusual, but I do not know the morals of your people."
Kristen didn't know why she should take offense at that, but she did. "We have very similar morals to your own, milord."
He let her go, but he was still frowning. "Why were you on that ship?"
"Why do you have so many questions about me?" she countered stiffly.
"Is my curiosity so unnatural? Or do you have something more to hide?"
She gave a snort at his reference to the things she had kept from him, for he knew why she had felt forced to deceive him about herself. It was reasonable that he should be curious about her, especially now. But did she want to appease his curiosity? Nay. Why should she? It was not necessary for him to know everything about her, and would only give him an advantage he did not deserve.
But she did not want to appear to be hiding something from him, either. What would he think if he knew that one of the reasons she had sailed with her brother was to find a husband? She had found this man instead, and he would never marry her.
"My reasons for being on the ship are many, but not important," she said quietly. "The truth is, I sailed without permission, hiding myself in the cargo well until the ship was far from home."
"You wanted to go pirating?" he asked incredulously.
"Do not be absurd, milord," she replied with disgust. "I told you no one knew the ship was coming here, least of all myself. My brother was furious when he discovered me. He would have taken me back, except he feared I would tell our father what he and his friends meant to do."
"You were naturally shocked when you learned they would sack a Saxon church."
That was pure sarcasm and it infuriated her. "You are Christian, and to you the sacking of a holy place is an abomination. But do not expect men of different beliefs to hold your holy places sacred. These were men who had never raided before, but their fathers had, and they were raised with stories of the wealth that was there for the taking in foreign lands. They knew the Danes coveted your land, that they mean to have all of this island eventually. They felt this was their only chance at easy wealth before the Danes laid claim to it all."
"If your brother told you all of that, am I to suppose you think that excuses what he planned? Steal from the Christians before the Danes do. The Christians will lose all anyway, so what does it matter who kills and robs them?"
His bitterness stung, for it mirrored her own when she had been told. "My brother would tell me naught of what they planned, because . . . well, it matters not why. 'Twas Thorolf who told me what I told you, and this only after we were chained in the yard below. I am not defending them. I simply understand their motives."
"One small thing was not taken into account," he noted coldly. "We Saxons will not be giving up what is ours to the Danes, or anyone else."
"Aye, so half of these Vikings found out," she agreed just as coldly.
"Your brother died through his own design, Kristen."
"Does that make it easier to bear?" she cried.
"Nay, I suppose not."
They both fell silent, Kristen because she was having trouble coping with her renewed grief in front of Royce, She would have liked comfort from him, and that surprised her. But she knew he would never give her comfort for the death of someone he despised.
She moved to her side of the bed and sat up. His hand shot out and caught her wrist.
"What are you doing?" he asked, not sharply but more than just curiously.
She glanced down at the fingers that held her, then at him. "I would return to my chamber."
"Why?"
"I am done with answering questions, milord." She sighed. "I am tired."
" Then go to sleep."
"You want me to stay here with you?"
He would not speak the words, but pulling her back down on the bed was answer enough. She had not expected it.
She turned her head toward him as his arm slipped across her waist to draw her closer. "You have a wall of weapons here. You do not fear I will kill you while you sleep?"
"Would you?"
"Nay, but I could escape," she said. "You have not locked your door."
He chuckled. "If that were your plan, then you would not bring it to my attention. Rest easy, Kristen. I have not lost my mind. I have a man on guard in the hall."
She gasped. "You knew all along you would make love to me?"
"Nay, but I planned for all the possibilities. Now be quiet if 'tis sleep you want."
She clamped her mouth shut, feeling chagrined. But not for long. He wanted her to spend the night with him. He had used her well, yet still he wanted her near. That thought made her feel very good indeed, so good that she fell asleep with a smile on her lips, and Royce's arm still holding her close.