The Captive - By Joanne Rock Page 0,35

do you say?” Her face remained pale as moonlight as the first streaks of dawn painted the sky.

It was a question without accusation. She did not make an assumption the way so many others had. But then, no woman wanted to think she had lain with a man who might hurt a female.

Ruthlessly, he faced the consequences of his choice to forsake Hedra.

“She lies in her grave because of me.” He shouldered past her, unwilling to see the hopefulness fade from her dark eyes. “Come. We are no longer safe here.”

She made no reply. But dutifully, her footsteps followed along behind his. He had brought Gwendolyn here seeking pleasure, a reprieve from a year lived by the sword. But he’d known all along it could not last. He could not even claim all three days with her that he’d once envisioned.

No matter how much he wanted to relive the soul-stirring fulfillment he’d known alone with her, Wulf knew the time had come to secure his captive someplace more populated to keep her safe.

8

She lies in her grave because of me.

Gwendolyn turned the phrase over in her mind as she trudged up a sandy rise behind Wulf later that day. Besides convincing him her injured knee no longer bothered her, they’d spoken little since their conversation in the woods.

She had been curious that morning when she heard him leave the cottage. His still sense of listening when he awoke had alerted her that he went outside to chase some danger. Gwendolyn had followed him, thinking she might be of some assistance.

When she’d heard him speak to someone, at first she’d been convinced he must be keeping her closer to civilization than she had previously realized. She’d never expected to hear him accused of murder. Never wanted her first taste of passion to be tainted by the knowledge she’d given herself to a Norseman as bloodthirsty as the ones Saxon mothers warned their children about.

Now, her feet damp with forest dew and creek water, she slogged upward as her heart sank lower. She’d felt too much for the Dane, her heart soaring along with the pleasure he’d given her.

How could her judgment be so flawed that she would find freedom in a barbarian’s arms? Perhaps she’d merely responded to the notion of an adventure, and Wulf hadn’t been as noble a man as she’d briefly believed.

Memories of his blood oath returned, challenging this new view that he posed a threat. Shaking off those thoughts for the moment, she blinked at their surroundings in an attempt to orient herself.

“This is not the way we came through the forest two days ago,” she pointed out, unwilling to follow him blindly when he had hurt another woman who depended on him for safety.

Had he sworn an oath to her, as well?

“My men sailed on to a settlement nearby. We must meet them.”

He carried a pack on his back that consisted mostly of blankets and his store of mead. He carried her veil, as well, the valuable garment compacted neatly with his things beside her rings and her father’s journal. The roll that Wulf carried seemed surprisingly manageable thanks to the width of those broad shoulders. She’d never seen a warrior so fit.

A tide of remembrances from their night together swamped her. His body had taught hers such wickedly delicious things. Today, her muscles ached pleasantly, her body humming with the knowledge of sensual joys even as her brain shouted cautions and upbraidings.

“Why must we meet them?” she asked, knowing men were not talkative creatures, but finding this man in particular to be short on explanation. “Where are you taking me after we find them?”

Assuming they ever found them. Did these seafarers know how to navigate the lands when their stars did not fill the sky? The sun rose high over the woods just beginning to bloom with new spring growth, and it occurred to her she would not even know which direction to take to return home.

Her skirt caught on the branch of a sprawling bush and she yanked it free impatiently. When she did, she nearly ran into him. He had stopped walking and now faced her. His hands reached to brace her shoulders, steadying her.

The contact had the unnerving effect of making her knees sway all the more.

“I must secure you at my encampment while I settle a score with an old enemy.” Perhaps he felt the lightning charge between them, for he set her apart from him with all haste, turned on