The Captive - By Joanne Rock Page 0,55
his cousin with a gesture, then ran toward the stretch of woods where Gwendolyn had disappeared. He vaulted dead logs and a wood cart, his eyes trained on a swath of pale skirt whipping in the breeze off the water, ready to use his secret weapon.
He whistled.
The high, piercing wail brought his mount to an immediate halt and he hoped against hope Gwendolyn hadn’t been thrown in the process. Memories of the wise woman’s prediction about his children put his heart in his throat. Could Gwendolyn be carrying his babe even now? A child he might have endangered?
A flurry of mild Saxon curses met his ears before he saw her, the passionate oaths reassuring him she couldn’t be terribly hurt.
“Gwendolyn.” He called to her through the darkness as he spotted the pale linen of her skirts. “Are you hurt?”
“Do even the beasts of the field obey your every command, Dane?” She ignored his question to ask her own, her words fired with anger.
As he approached the horse and its disheveled rider, he could see the fury in her expression. Her dark eyes flashed in the moonlight as she turned to him, her lips pursed in a tight frown. Other than that, she appeared unharmed. Her skirts were muddied and covered with brush and leaves from the unwise dash through the forest. Her sable-colored hair tangled about her shoulders, her veil ripped away by a low branch and still drooping from the offending stick a few feet behind her.
The clear spring skies had offered her some moonlight, at least. And the mild temperature helped combat the fact that she had not bothered to wear a cloak.
“Thankfully, the beasts of the fields obey far better than Saxon women.” Reaching her side, he took the reins of his horse and patted the animal’s flank before brushing some of the leaves and twigs from Gwendolyn’s skirts. “You must know the years of training that go into a good warhorse. What I don’t understand is why you chose the biggest of the lot? Didn’t you know he would be the hardest to manage?”
He held out his hands to her and she hesitated. Did she have another plan in mind for escape? Or was she so mad that his touch was now unwelcome? He was surprised to realize the latter upset him more than the former.
Either way, she conceded and after a moment, slid into his arms. The feel of her curves against him was a momentary brush with bliss. Her softness molded to him, fitting him perfectly. Then, straightening immediately, she held herself apart from him.
“I did not think carefully enough. I chose the animal whose neck looked strong and thick enough for me to duck behind in the dark. He is so big that I thought he would keep me safe.”
“And so he did.” Wulf gave the animal a scrub behind the ears and turned him around to return to the camp.
Moments later, they walked side by side to the edge of the village and handed off the horse to Erik, who was wise enough to then disappear discreetly. Nearby, men and women lingered in sensual leave-taking that would last until dawn. Some couples had retreated to the tents, but the younger ones—the ones who had not staked a permanent claim to each other—took their goodbyes under the sheltering trees at the wood’s edge or down by the water.
“Do not let me keep you from joining your friends,” Gwendolyn remarked as she hastened her pace toward his tent. “I will not be warming your bed this night.”
“Gwendolyn.” He reached out a hand to stop her since she would not have answered him otherwise. His fingers clamped around hers and he tugged her back toward him.
Her pulse jumped under his thumb when he rubbed it over her smooth skin. The scent of the dried flowers that had been packed around her gown tempted him to lean close and inhale deeply.
It would not be difficult to seduce her to his will. He knew that as surely as he knew she would resent him for it on the morrow.
“I have never touched you against your wishes, and I would not do so tonight.” He used the opportunity to slip his thumb into the sleeve of her gown, to skim the tender skin of her inner forearm. “But it may be difficult for either of us to sleep, knowing we did not take this last chance to touch each other. My people believe the gods favor those who