A Heart of Fire (24 page)

Finna
snorted at that. "I didn’t say I would
say
anything to him first."

Geera
gave her a look of warning. "I do not wish to see you hurt."

"I
don’t think he would put a hand to me," Finna said. And truthfully, she
did not think Valdrik would hurt her. He'd had plenty of chances to do her real
harm and hadn't. She sensed Valdrik was not the kind of man perhaps Aldar was.
Like Hadarr, Valdrik was honorable and did not need to take unnecessary actions
to prove himself.

Grudgingly,
she liked that about him.

"He
can be gruff and growly," Geera said, "but Valdrik was always kind
toward me. He is the type of man a woman might seek to claim, but it would take
a very special woman to possess his heart. You cannot lie and tell me you do
not desire him at all, for I've seen you look upon him several times in a way
that very much said otherwise."

Finna
snorted. "I know what comes with bedding," she said. "Childbirth
and sometimes death. For those reasons alone, I do not desire him."

Geera
scoffed. "And being bedded scares my great shieldmaiden sister?" She
laughed. "I think you shall make a fine mother. I would not let you
die."

"Women
die in childbirth no matter the skill of the midwife."

"Some,
but I think you do not fear that so much as you do sharing yourself with
Valdrik. I do not think he would hurt you, Finna. Not a'purpose."

"Did
you ever lie with him?"

Geera's
eyes rounded. "Nay! I have been with no man. But I've heard other women
talk."

"Is
it ... pleasurable?"

Her
sister blushed. "Aye, or so the other women say."

Finna
paused. She had so many questions and no one but Geera to ask. "What
happens
in lovemaking?" she asked,
rather slowly. Of course, one day the inevitable would come. She needed to be
prepared.

Geera
laughed and stood from the table, her poultice in hand. "Sister, I think
you are being silly now. 'Tis obvious what happens. Come, let us go to Mother
so I might tend her. Mayhap you shall wish to help."

Finna
nodded. She wasn’t being silly. She wanted to be prepared. As they were walking
down the hall, "Do you think after we are done with Mother you can show me
how to prepare my husband something to eat?"

Geera
laughed again and hooked her arm in Finna's.

"I
do so wish Aldar had not stolen our childhoods from us. I wish you had been
here with me," Geera said.

Something
twisted in Finna's heart.

Aldar
had done her more harm than any other.

He
had sought to hurt his brother, but the damage had not stopped there.

Nay,
his evil had spread and touched many others.

Again,
her heart clenched, but this time in a quiet burning fury.

Chapter Nineteen

When
Valdrik rode past the walls and toward the stables, the air swirled with
something amiss even before he spotted Stieg casually leaning against the
structure where the horses were kept. The man's thick arms crossed over his
barrel chest, a heavy scowl penetrated a thick dark beard, and a single piece
of straw moved round and round between his lips as he chewed it.

Valdrik
sighed as his destrier tromped through the frosted mud where other horses and
come and gone earlier in the day. He rode up to the stables and dismounted,
sensing all the more that this unpleasant look about Stieg could
only
have to do with his wife and his
wife alone.

What
could she have done now?

When
his feet were firmly planted on the straw and manure littered ground, he turned
to the other man with a rankled look. "Well?" he asked.

Stieg
lifted one brow and, with his shoulder, pushed himself off the building. He
removed the straw from his mouth. "
Well
,
she sought out the captives as I told you she would. I told you we would be
better off killing them."

Valdrik
stiffened. He clenched his fist. "She did what?" he thundered. His
outburst was more of an explosion than a question, for he had heard Stieg just
fine, though he found himself reluctant to believe this. "Why will that
woman not heed me?" he asked absently, tossing the reins to a thin young
man and placing his hands on his hips.

Stieg
shrugged casually and snorted, turning to look into the darkened cold day as Valdrik
motioned the slave to tend his horse. The two men started out together, in the
direction of the longhouse.

"What
else?" Valdrik asked darkly.

"Naught
else. She was caught and sent on her way." He tucked his straw back
between his teeth. "Methinks she spent the rest of the day with her mother
and sister."

Valdrik
stopped in the snow and turned to Stieg. "How far did she get?"

Stieg
gave him a look that clearly said,
she is
your
wife,
you
watch her
. "She got inside is what
I was told."

Valdrik
ground his teeth and pointed hard in the direction of the outbuilding holding
the captives. "Tomorrow, have those men who were guarding the prisoners
brought to me," he said, his teeth bared. He started off again, leaving
Stieg behind. "They should not have been outsmarted by a woman," he
muttered.

"Where
do you go?" Stieg called after him.

Valdrik
looked over his shoulder as he trudged through the snow. "To tend to my
disobedient wife."

Stieg
laughed behind him, but Valdrik did not care what his friend thought of his
intents. He did not care if he thought he was on his way to beat Finna, for at
this precise moment he dearly wanted to.

Surely,
he was beginning to think he was paying dearly as Finna had promised him he
would the second time they'd met, when he had stolen her from her home.

Valdrik
hurried to his dwelling, ready to be out of the cold, and took a deep breath
when he came to the stoop. He reached to open the door, but paused. Instead, he
dragged his fingers through his hair.

He
had to draw a line somewhere. Already, he had told her she was not to go to
them, as he had told her not to wear leggings anymore, too. It was time Finna
learned her place.

Valdrik
glanced about him, steeling his resolve and feeling like an utter fool for
standing on his own doorstep in the cold, glaring at his own door as snow
collected on his shoulders. He grabbed the handle and rushed inside, closing
the door behind him before the warmth escaped.

Finna
whirled around with a cloth in hand and caught his eye immediately. Her stare
fell down him, from his head to his feet, and she pinched her lips at the white
clumps falling from his boots.

Valdrik
scowled at her, but she did not seem to notice, too intent on the floor. He
reached for the clasp at his throat and released it with a sharp yank, shaking
off the snow before he tossed his cloak on the peg. He ignored her gasp as fat
plops of snow fell around his feet.

"Finna,"
he said sternly, starting for her.

"Do
not take one more step into this house," she said, holding up one finger and
pointing to him.

Valdrik
stopped on his next word, his mouth ajar. "What?" he asked, confused
by her sudden rancor.

With
her hands on her hips, Finna stomped across the room and jerked the door open.
With her foot, she swept out the melting clumps of snow in a kick and then
slammed the door. She turned a glowering look upon him.

"Next
you come home, you see that you clean your feet outside." She gave him a
gusty sigh and tromped off to her task across the room.

Valdrik
swept the interior cautiously, noting the place looked a bit cleaner. He was
pleased, but not overly distracted from Finna's noncompliance. He watched her a
moment as she cleaned, wiping down one of the shields with a cloth before
reaching to replace it on the wall.

His
eyes drifted over her slender body as she came up on her toes, struggling to
hang the shield back in place. At last, Valdrik crossed the room and came up
flush behind her to take the shield, easily hooking it in place over their
heads.

Finna
glared at the shield a moment and then turned that glare on him. "I could
have done that," she groused.

"If
you could, I'm sure you would have already," Valdrik said. He held her
stare, searching for any sign of guilt for what she had done. Shockingly, he
found not a trace. She started to edge out from under his closeness, but he
reached and put a hand to the wall, blocking her escape. Finna glanced up him
and quirked a brow.

"If
you do not mind, I would return to my task as there is much else to be
done."

"It
can wait," he said with surprising calm.

She
started to argue more, but instead, dropped her gaze to the rushes at their
feet.

Valdrik
lifted his hand to her hair and smoothed his fingers over her soft tresses. It
was unbelievable how he could look upon her and feel such strong desire coursing
through him, overwhelming everything else. When he should feel angry for what
she had done, all he wanted was to take her under him and—

"Valdrik,"
Finna said.

He
shook himself. "What?" he asked, but her irritated scowl reminded him
of what he had been about, and he pinned her with a hard look. "I know
what you have done," he said. She gave him a pert tilt of her head, one
that said she did not care that he knew, and her impudence only riled him all
the more.

In
an instant, Valdrik took her by the arm and with a few short steps, flung her
onto the bed where she fell with a sudden cry of surprise. Valdrik climbed atop
her before Finna could so much as screech at him. Oh, but she did. And she
sought to claw his eyes out, too, reaching for his face, but Valdrik caught her
hands before she could.

"Why
will you not heed me?" he shouted against her squirming protests, sitting
up to straddle her.

She
let out a final screech as she arched beneath him, panting. "Because you
have no right to order me about," she said, anger unraveling in her tone.

Valdrik
laughed. "Nay? I've no right? I've many more rights involving you than I
have taken liberty of." He brought her arms up above her head, trapping
them to the soft furs. Finna tossed her head against the white pelts, her light
hair pillowing under her head.

She
paled then, stilling beneath him. "Nay, Valdrik. You would not!" she
cried.

"Is
being bedded by me such a horrible thought?" he asked. "I seem to
remember you enjoying what I did to you before."

Her
little gasp stirred him, and Valdrik bent his head to kiss her. Their mouths
crushed together, her taste engulfing him as he pushed into her mouth, the
thrusts of his tongue much like he wished to do with his cock. She cried out
into his mouth, but her sweet protests were much to his liking—contrived and
insincere. He chuckled as her body softened under his, her breasts rising and
falling, straining against his chest.

Valdrik
growled into her mouth and lifted himself over her, still pinning Finna beneath
him. She looked up with a fiery glare.

"Why
did you go to them?" he demanded.

"To
see why they came for me."

He
scoffed. "Isn't that obvious?"

Her
pained expression told him she had needed to learn for herself. Hearing it from
him was not enough for his Finna. Nay.

"Mayhap
I've been stubborn in the matter," she said. Her cheeks blossomed as she
pinched her lips together.

Valdrik
chuckled at her. Oh, how that one admission must have pained her.

His
glower on her softened. By the gods, she was beautiful. Her lips were swollen
and moist from his kiss, her eyes darkened with her desire. "You are not
to visit with the captives again, no matter that you do not fear them. There is
no telling what they might do if they had the chance."

Finna
scoffed, looking back over her shoulder and fixing her stare on the bedding.
"I know them, Valdrik. They would not do me harm."

Some
of his former glacial coolness returned. "It is not a risk I care to take.
I know what Aldar would do, and that is enough."

She
jerked her gaze back to him. "Strange how you pretend to care."

Her
words affronted him. "I pretend
nothing
.
You are my wife, Finna. I do not wish harm to come to you."

She
scoffed again.

"What
will it take to prove to you that I intend nothing else but to treat you as my
wife should be treated?" He let her arms go with one hand and skimmed his
fingers over the tender underside of her arm, to her neck where he circled the
pad of his finger over her ear. She no longer fought him as she had at first,
and surprisingly, he found her body pliant under his. Warm and lush. "Why
do you tremble so?" he asked.

Finna
shivered again, and Valdrik chuckled. He bent his head low, pulling the
shoulder of her dress away to kiss her bare skin there. Her breathing hitched
at the touch of his mouth, the bristles of his beard on her soft skin.