She stood there for a few minutes, tapping her foot, gazing out to sea, up to the sky, doing anything to avoid looking at the man swimming in the water below.
As always, a steady stream of boats patrolled the waterways—a number of them appeared to be English galleys. On their expeditions around the island it was something she’d grown used to seeing. But there seemed to be more of them than usual. She felt a prickle of apprehension, wondering what was happening. At times it was hard to remind herself that there was a world beyond this island.
She gazed down at the sword he’d tucked into a rock near her foot. Squinting against the glare from the sunlight, she noticed writing near the handle. Knowing it was common practice for warriors to inscribe their swords with something meaningful, she pulled the blade out enough to read the rest: dìleas an còmhnaidh. Always faithful. She frowned. Strange motto for a womanizing pirate. She’d expected something more along the lines of “bloodletter” or “beheader.”
She heard a splash and glanced back down. He looked as though he was having the time of his life, drat him.
Her forbearance lasted all of five minutes.
She mumbled a few of her brothers’ favorite curses and removed the plaid from around her shoulders, then her borrowed shoes, hose, and cotte, carefully folding them in a neat pile.
Wearing only the chemise she’d arrived in, she inched forward on the rocks until her toes gripped the edge. She shivered—and not just from the gust of wind. Her heart was fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. She hoped it was like riding a horse, because she hadn’t done this in at least five years.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and fell forward.
For a moment she felt buoyed by a swell of air. It held her weightless for a long heartbeat, before rushing past her in a blast of wind as she plunged downward. She arched her back, twisted, and then tucked her knees into her chest, rolling over before reaching forward as her body extended to a dive just as she hit the water.
The shock of cold penetrated to her bones. She dove a few more feet, then came back up, bursting to the surface in a spray of water.
He was at her side before she could catch her breath. She grinned excitedly, surprised to see the fierce expression on his face. He had that scary Viking look again, except that he was a little pale beneath his dripping face and slicked-back hair. “What in Hades do you think you were doing? You were supposed to jump. You could have broken your damn neck!”
She laughed, which only seemed to make him angrier. “That was fun. I haven’t done that in years.” She shot him a look. “And I really must insist you stop cursing around me.”
She heard the angry string of expletives lashing after her as she dove away from him, narrowly avoiding his grasp.
But outswimming him was impossible, and her escape was short-lived. He snaked an arm around her waist and drew her against him, bringing them back to the surface together.
She felt as if she was plastered against a big stone wall. A stone wall with lots and lots of rock-hard muscle. She didn’t bother trying to pull away; struggling was useless. She was all too aware of the power in the body pressed so intimately to hers. Legs entwined, her breasts crushed against his chest, it felt … perfect.
His eyes locked on hers, and she felt the force of it like a blow to the lungs. This was why women loved him so much. He made them feel as if they were the most important person in the world. The only person in the world.
“I think you’ve had enough fun for today,” he said softly, his voice gruff.
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” she couldn’t resist taunting back at him.
“Back there with my heart after that dive,” he said dryly.
Her mouth tugged, but he sounded so upset that she decided not to press her luck by laughing at him again. Not this close. Not when she was fairly sure what her teasing could unleash.
He desired her. She could feel him hard against her stomach and it made her cautious. Her good sense warred with the not-so-gentle stirrings of her body. It wasn’t much of a war—not really.
He gazed down at her, his jaw locked, hard and forbidding. She gasped when his rough fingertips swept her cheek. She swore his eyes filled with tenderness. Not knowing what he intended, she couldn’t breathe for the entire time it took him to tuck a sopping strand of hair behind her ear. His thumb lingered for an agonizing moment, tracing the curve of her chin.
Her heart beat frantically in her chest. He had to feel it, to be aware of what he was doing to her.
Of course he did. He’d done this a thousand times.
But why was he looking at her so … intently. Tenderly. As if she were special.
She wasn’t special. No matter how much he made her feel as if she was. He did this with everyone. It didn’t mean anything.
But the look in his eyes …
She was so confused, wanting what she desperately knew she should not. His eyes searched hers, as if he were probing for an answer to an unanswered question. She felt his arm tighten around her as he drew her even closer.
She knew he was going to kiss her, and she didn’t stop him. She wanted to feel his mouth on hers, to see if it was as incredible as she remembered.
It was.
It felt right. As if it were meant to be. As if her mouth had been made for exactly this purpose: to be joined with his.
His lips were warm and silky soft, pressing gently, brushing over hers in a smooth caress, then holding for one long heartbeat before breaking apart.
Its brevity was its very devastation. She wanted so much more. One taste only reminded her of the passion that had flared between them before. Passion that was coiled and tight and ready to break free.
He let her go, and her heart lurched at the sudden separation. Her body craved the contact. But the moment was gone.
“Why did you do that?” she blurted.
He shook his head, amused. “Does everything have to have a reason?”
Her reply was automatic. “Yes.”
He laughed. “Can’t you just relax and enjoy the moment, and do something because it feels right?”
Passion for passion’s sake? Desire for desire’s sake? The idea was utterly foreign to her, anathema to her duty and position. Of course, she couldn’t … could she?
“Come,” he said. “I think I’d better show you that surprise. Let’s see how fast you can swim. I’ll race you back to shore.”
“It won’t be much of a race,” she said, still trying to collect her jumbled thoughts. “I’ve seen you swim.”
His mouth lifted on one side. “I’ll give you a head start.”
He still won. Ellie dragged herself up the beach beside him, shivering and exhausted after the exertion of the swim. The subtle warmth of the winter sun could not penetrate her frozen limbs.
She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed, trying to get the sensation back. “Next time instead of a head start, I’m going to insist you not use your legs.”
He only laughed, and she had a feeling he’d still win.
“You’re fast,” he said. “For a—”
“Don’t say it,” she warned threateningly, though the effect was lost by her chattering teeth. “My brothers learned very quickly not to make that mistake. I might be only a lass, but I can be quite inventive when it comes to revenge.”
He gave her an appraising look, his eyes scanning her scantily clad form in a way that made her chilled blood warm and her prickling skin tighten. Her nipples beaded under her damp chemise.
“I don’t doubt it,” he said.
Abruptly, he grabbed her hand and started to lead her back to the cliff.
“Can we jump again?” she asked.
“Hell—” He stopped himself. “Nay. Don’t you want to see the surprise?”
She looked around. “Where is it?”
“Right in front of you.”
She glanced around, at first seeing only the wide spans of sandy beach sloping gently to a grassy hills
ide on one side and the rocky cliff on the other.
Then she saw it. About fifty feet up the shore from the water’s edge, nestled between the hillside and the cliff, was a small building. Except for the narrow wooden door and plume of smoke, billowing gently from above, it was nearly impossible to see on a quick glance. Too small to be a house, its earthen roof and walls seemed to blend into the hillside.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I promised you would be warm, didn’t I? This is how my ancestors used to come in from a winter swim.”
Her eyes widened with excitement. “A sauna?”
He nodded, surprised that she’d guessed so easily. “You’ve seen one?”
She shook her head. “Nay, but I’ve always wanted to.” She hurried after him, trying not to notice the way the linen of his damp tunic and braies clung to his powerful frame or the flex of his leg muscles as he walked.
He opened the door, and the blast of heat hit her like a smith’s bellows. “Hurry,” he said, hustling her in. “Don’t let the air out.”
He ducked under the door frame, and she quickly followed him in.
The heat was overwhelming. Stifling. It felt as though she’d just stepped into a bonfire. At first it was difficult to breathe. The steamy air was thick and humid, filling her lungs. But her icy skin immediately warmed with a tingling, drenching heat.
After the bright sunlight, it took her eyes a moment to grow accustomed to the semidarkness. She glanced around the small room. It resembled a round earthen cave. The ceiling was low—less than six feet, she’d guess, as Hawk couldn’t stand up straight—and the walls were no farther than eight feet apart. The floor was set with large flat stones, but everything else looked as if it had been carved into the earth. There was a stone oven on her left, piled high with rocks. Straight ahead, opposite the door, two benches had been built into the wall—one at normal seating level and one a little higher. A few large buckets of water sat by the door.
“What are those for?” she asked.
He shook his head. “So impatient. You’re supposed to wait until the end, but I can show you now if you wish.” She nodded. “Stand right here.” He led her to the middle of the stone floor over what appeared to be a small opening. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Do you want me to show you or not?”
She made a face and closed her eyes. She could feel him beside her, and her senses flared with awareness, wondering what he would do. Part of her hoped—
“Ready?” he asked. She could hear the laughter in his voice and started to suspect …
But it was too late. A moment later, a bucket of cold water was dumped over her head.
She stood there in a moment of stunned shock, letting the water drip over her. The small opening at her feet was obviously a drain. From behind the curtain of hair, she could hear him rolling with laughter.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t resist.”
She pulled her hair back from in front of her eyes, sputtering angrily—which only made him laugh harder. Realizing how ridiculous she must look, her mouth started to twitch and she couldn’t help but join him.
Now that the shock had worn off, she realized how refreshing the water had felt. It would be even more so, she suspected, after sitting in the heat for some time. She squeezed the water from her hair and shook out her chemise. At least her hair and skin no longer felt caked with salt.
She eyed the other bucket. “May I?” she asked.
He grinned. “It’s all yours.”
It was heavier than it looked and she needed him to lift it over his head, but a few moments later a deluge of cool water gushed down over him like a heavy spring waterfall. He shook his hair, spraying her with water, then raked it back from his face. It was amazing how gorgeous he looked even sopping wet.
“Ah, that felt good.” He pointed to the lower of the two benches set in the earthen wall. “Sit. In a few minutes you’ll be wishing for another bucket.”
He was right; her skin was already dry, though her hair and chemise would take awhile longer. She did as he asked and sat on one of the benches, not surprised when he sat beside her. It was strangely relaxing. Sitting beside him in comfortable silence, enjoying the cleansing heat. When it grew too hot, he tossed a cup of water on the rocks and the room filled with a wonderful cool steam.
Dampness gathered behind the heavy weight of her hair. Bundling it up in a knot, she tucked it behind her head and leaned back against the second bench. She could fall asleep like this. She heaved a sigh of utter contentment. “This is heaven. I never want to leave.”
He chuckled. “The rocks will cool off soon enough. But we have a few hours.”
She opened her eyes, hearing something in his voice. “I wasn’t serious,” she said.
He gave her a look that melted her bones, telling her exactly how they would like to spend the next few hours. “I was.”
His gaze held her and she felt that strange stirring of awareness that made her tingle all over. “Did you bring me here to seduce me?”
He seemed amused by her bluntness. “Do you want me to?”
“No.” She shook her head with more certainty than she felt. “I can’t.”
The glint of amusement in his eye was replaced by a spark of something else. Steely determination. She had a horrible feeling the seductive dance of the past few days was over.
He hadn’t moved. He was still leaning back with his back to the bench, by all appearances relaxed. Then why did she have an image of a coiled snake ready to strike? He leaned toward her and her pulse shot through the roof of her heart. “Why not? Aren’t you curious, Ellie?”
She shook her head. He looked just like the predator he was named for, and she felt like a tasty hare.
His eyes slid over her body, lingering on her breasts. Her nipples hardened under the weight of his heavy gaze. His eyes darkened dangerously. She knew what he was going to do, but was helpless to do anything but wait—unable to breathe—until he did.
He reached out and grazed her arm with the back of his finger, stroking with the barest touch. Her breath hitched harder in lungs that seemed to have forgotten how to work.
Her heart pounded and her senses flared as his finger traced along the curve of her hip, to her waist, and to the gentle swell of her breast.
Oh God. Her entire body quivered in anticipation.
Her breath released in shallow little gasps. She could feel the heat of his hand through the thin linen of her chemise. So close. She whimpered, and her body shuddered when he finally touched the place she wanted him to, circling the throbbing tip of her nipple with the hard pad of his finger.
“I can make you feel pleasure, tè bheag. More pleasure than you ever dreamed.”
She was feeling it now. Her thighs pressed together against the tingling, against the dampness, as her breasts grew heavy and hot and her nipple strained against the pleasure of his big hand.
His seductively light touch was driving her mad. Desire licked her body with flames of liquid heat. She was hot. Restless. Needy. Every nerve ending clamored for the pleasure he promised. She wanted his hands all over her, grasping, gripping, and marking her with passion.
She wanted to give in to temptation.
Pleasure for pleasure’s sake. Nothing more. Could she forget about everything else and just enjoy the experience?
This is what he did. Made women weak with pleasure. But she wasn’t like other women. She was too sensible to let herself get carried away.
He must have sensed her struggle. His hand settled around her breast, cupping her, squeezing gently as he pinched her nipple between his finger and thumb. “Let me show you, Ellie. Let yourself enjoy the pleasure I can give you. Just a little taste,” he said. “I’ll stop whenever you want me to.” His gaze held hers.
She didn’t know why but she trusted him. Or maybe it was that she wanted what he offered so badly, she would believe anything.
She made her decisi
on. For once she didn’t want to think. It wasn’t as if she was in any danger of losing her heart. She knew better than to let her emotions get involved. But this was her chance to taste passion, something she knew she would not find in her marriage bed.
It was wrong perhaps. A sin in God’s eyes. But she swore to be virtuous for the rest of her life if she could just have this moment. This would all be over soon. These idyllic few days would be forgotten. She would return home to her father and marry Ralph, as was her duty. But right now, she wanted this.
She wanted him.
The waiting was torture. Those little gasps of hers were driving him wild. Erik could sense her passion straining under the surface, ready to break free. Christ, she was practically shattering under his fingertips.
His breath was hard and heavy as he cupped her breast in his hand, pinching her little nipple to a tight bud, wanting to feel it in his mouth, pressing against his tongue as he nibbled and sucked.
He was as hard as a rock. The past few days had been difficult enough. Being near her. Touching her. Smelling her. Seeing her blossom like a flower in the sun. But God’s blood, watching her in the sauna had taken his lust to new heights. He couldn’t think of anything more erotic than seeing her lounging on that bench. With her eyes closed, flush cheeks and damp tendrils of hair around her face, she looked like a woman who had just been very thoroughly ravished.
He couldn’t stop himself. His patience—admittedly never long—had reached the end of its tether. He wanted her, and she wanted him.
Why was she so hell-bent on resisting him?
He wasn’t used to being denied, but Ellie did so at every turn. The desire sparking between them was out of control. He could hardly think about anything else.
Even his mission seemed to have crept into the background, though the attack was only days away. Maybe it was that urgency driving him now—the knowledge that the time with her would soon be at an end.
If his desire seemed unusually intense, Erik knew that it was only because of the circumstances. He wasn’t used to spending so much time with a woman he was attracted to and not giving in to that attraction. He wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted. It surprised him how much fun he’d been having in spite of it.