Captive Heart (19 page)

Celiese turned as he worked swiftly to cut several inches from the bottom of the long gown. He was so close she could not resist reaching out to touch his golden curls lightly, her caress a fond one, but he looked up so suddenly she drew her hand away.

“Do not try and distract me. I mean for us to go riding.” Handing her the excess material, Mylan rose to his feet, then shoved his dagger back under his belt. “I will saddle our mounts. Use my comb on your hair, as it needs it badly.” Scowling, he turned and left without a backward glance, and Celiese had no idea why she’d displeased him now when he’d enjoyed her touch so much the previous evening.

By the time Mylan was ready to depart, Celiese had had sufficient time to prepare. She’d braided her hair into a single plait that reached her waist, and had used the scrap from the bottom of her gown to fashion a belt. She looked exactly like what she was, the loveliest of young women clad in a totally unsuitable dress, but she was looking forward to going riding and smiled warmly as she leapt upon the gentle mare’s back. “Where is it we’re bound, Mylan? Perhaps if there is time I can gather branches for my weapons.”

Laughing at her insistence that she needed weapons for a sport that sent her into a faint, Mylan teased her again. “I’ll not have you hunting, Celiese, not when you faint at the sight of a drawn bow.”

“It was not the bow but you that frightened me. Must you be so mean?” Lacing her mare’s reins through her fingers, Celiese pretended to pay him scant attention while she peeked at him through the veil of her long lashes. He seemed to grow more handsome each time she saw him, and she thought that most unfair since she had not the benefit of even one nice gown to help her win his affections.

“You must cease to worry that I’ll slay you when you would be so highly profitable to sell.” The instant those words left his lips he regretted them, for the pain that filled the pretty woman’s eyes was tinged with such furious anger he knew he’d made a grave error in teasing her about being his slave. Striking his mount’s flanks lightly with his heels, he set their pace at a brisk canter, giving Celiese no opportunity to make the hostile reply he knew she was about to speak.

The wind stung her eyes, but Celiese forced back her tears. So she was to be reminded constantly that she was his slave! How could she have been so foolish as to have believed their relationship had changed when it so obviously hadn’t? He regarded her as a piece of property, no different from the land over which they rode or the mound of furs upon which they’d slept. His jest had sickened her thoroughly, for she’d hoped he would have more consideration for her feelings, but perhaps only his own were important to him. Yet when next he spoke, he seemed so seriously interested in confiding in her that she began to wonder if perhaps she’d only imagined that his comment on her status had been an insult.

Mylan drew his stallion to a halt beneath a stand of linden trees and motioned for Celiese to come close. “The stream provides sufficient water for growing grain, the land is fertile, the crops plentiful, but I find myself too restless here to enjoy the peace this farm should afford. It is a prison without walls, not the pleasant sanctuary a home should be.”

Surprised by the sudden change in his mood, Celiese nevertheless responded in as serious a tone as he. “I do not believe it is a home you crave, Mylan, but the freedom to seek your destiny elsewhere.” She advised calmly. “Only you know what desires lie hidden in your heart, but you should simply live the life you long to live with no further thought of the drudgery this farm requires to maintain.”

“Drudgery, is it?” Mylan smiled at her term. “Torture is nearer the truth, but you do not understand, Celiese.” Dismounting, he walked around to her side, placing his hands around her narrow waist to help her down. Taking her hand in his, he led her to the smooth grass beneath the trees and pulled her down beside him in the shade, leaving their mounts to graze undisturbed nearby. “If I were content to sail no further than Kaupang or Birka, or to the other commercial ports my brothers frequent, then I could sail now. But I want to go far beyond the horizon, to a world none has yet seen.” Mylan looked away, far into the distance, his expression filling with sorrow as he grew silent.

After waiting a moment Celiese could no longer suppress her curiosity. “If no man has seen this place, how do you know it exists?” She knew Vikings were fond of relating their own adventures, or of listening to heroic tales told by
scalds,
men who were respected for their cleverness with words, but whether the tales they spun were true or not she did not know. “Have you heard a legend perhaps, or some story about this far-off land?”

“No but there are lands to the north of us, I have been to them. Why should lands not exist in the west, as well?” Mylan pointed out logically. “I have no wish to follow another’s lead, I want simply to sail toward the setting sun until I have discovered all the secrets the world has hidden still.”

In the clear light of the spring day, Mylan’s eyes were a vibrant light brown, filled with the golden flecks that gave them their remarkable topaz shine. Staring into those eyes, which seemed to see wonders beyond imagining, Celiese hoped only that he would realize his dream. Her hand still lay in his, and she clasped his fingers tightly as she spoke. “You are well, Mylan, truly you are, and you must follow your heart wherever it leads you, for it is plain you will never be content living here.” Not even with me here to love you, she thought wistfully.

For the briefest of moments Mylan wondered what sane man would sit as calmly as he and seek the advice of his slave. A few tendrils of silvery blonde had escaped Celiese’s braid to curl softly upon her cheeks, and she was so appealing a young woman he was tempted to accept her recommendations as most sensible regardless of her lowly status. “Strong enough for most things, that is true.” A sly smile curved across his lips as he continued. “To grow grain, to hunt deer, to make love to you; but I am not strong enough to begin a voyage of many weeks across the widest of seas. If it were no more than my life I would gladly risk it, but I’ll not needlessly endanger the lives of my crew.”

That he would mention the intimacy they’d shared so casually pained Celiese greatly, but she’d not let him see that hurt and changed the subject to a far safer one.

“Your brothers sail well, with hands so light their ship nearly flew across the waves. Raktor and his sons are brutish in all things, that their ships do not sink beneath them as soon as they leave their docks amazes me, for they, understand neither the winds nor the currents, but only the greed that fills their own hearts.”

It was not only the beauty of his slave’s appearance that he enjoyed, but the acuteness of her perceptions, which continually amazed Mylan. “I could not have described their failings better, and your compliment for my brothers pleases me, as I am the one who taught them as children. They were clever boys who learned rapidly how to sail our craft expertly.”

“It was you who taught them, not your father?” Celiese asked with an enchanting smile, encouraging him to continue.

“The weather is best for sailing in the summer,” Mylan explained simply.

That comment shattered Celiese’s composure instantly, for she knew exactly where his father had been then—away stealing for himself what other men had earned! Her revulsion showed clearly in her expression as she responded in a vicious whisper, “Traders, your mother swears you all are! Is she so foolish as to believe that preposterous lie?”

Reacting instantly to her insult, Mylan snarled angrily, “No one could tell more preposterous lies than you, Celiese!” As she turned away, ready to spring to her feet, he pulled her back down beside him. “I told you you’d never escape me any time I wanted you, and I find your anger a most powerful aphrodisiac!” Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her with such savage passion that he left his own lips bruised as well as hers, but he did not release her from his confining embrace when he at last lifted his mouth and leaned back to judge her reaction.

Celiese tried to break away but Mylan was much too strong to elude, and he pushed her down upon the grass with only a slight effort. Never one to take such mistreatment without a fight, she continued to struggle, making his task a near impossible one, despite his far greater size and strength. But she knew it would take only one good blow of his fist to end her resistance, and her panic increased tenfold. She could scarcely breathe, let alone scream, but, suddenly remembering the knife he always carried she managed to rip it from his belt and raise it to his throat as she swore, “Damn you, I’ll kill you before I’ll let you rape me!”

Mylan stared down into the brilliant green of the defiant woman’s eyes and in that instant saw the horror she’d suffered as clearly as if it were taking place right before him. He saw a terrified child surrounded by drunken men calling the crudest of encouragement to one another, and, feeling her outrage as well as her pain he drew away, shocked by the clarity of the vision she’d projected to his mind. Releasing her swiftly, he rolled over on his back, stretching out upon the grass as he forced himself to take several deep breaths. Celiese continually drove him to distraction, but he could not believe what he had almost done, for he took great pride in the fact he was a man who could control his emotions so they would not betray him as brutally as they almost had. “I have never raped any woman, and I had not meant to begin with you.”

Celiese kept his knife close to her body, suspecting some trick to which she had no wish to fall victim, but as the minutes passed and he did no more than lie quietly by her side she began to relax. “I would rather you killed me than used me so badly, as others have, Mylan. I could not bear that from you.” Indeed, it would have broken what little remained of her heart, for she had always given herself willingly to him. The only beautiful memories she had as a woman were of the love they’d shared, and she attempted to make him understand. “Please do not destroy the happiness I’ve found with you. Please do not do that to me.”

“And I’ll thank you not to tease me with a knife in your hand, Celiese, that is too dangerous a sport for both of us.” Mylan waited quietly for her to make the sudden move he planned to counter with a vicious jab, for he knew she could not stab him without lifting her arm and putting her whole body behind the downward thrust. While he appeared to be resting, all his senses were attuned to the motions of the slender woman by his side. He counted the seconds slowly in his mind, wondering why Celiese was hesitating so long before making her move to try and kill him.

As confused by his words as he had been by hers, Celiese tossed the sharp dagger aside before reaching out to lightly caress Mylan’s deeply tanned cheek. “I have never teased you, Mylan, not ever, so why do you persist in teasing me so cruelly?” When he did not immediately begin to argue with her over that question she lay down beside him, placing her head upon his shoulder so they both might rest more comfortably. “I wish…” She stopped abruptly then, unable to express the desires which filled her heart. She knew he would scoff at her dream of a marriage between them rather than the relationship of bondage, that held a slave to her master.

Puzzled to find himself in the arms of a woman who’d so recently sworn to kill him, Mylan prompted the reluctant beauty to continue. “Wish what? Since the day is so pretty, and I am in such a pleasant mood, I may just grant your request if you’ll make it.”

“Just hold me in your arms as you sometimes do, that is all I’ll ask of you now,” Celiese replied softly, unwilling to ask for more.

Lifting his right hand to her hair, Mylan began to slowly unfasten her braid, letting his fingers slide through the silken tresses with a gentle caress. She fit so naturally against him and he found himself as content as she until she reached up to brush his lips lightly with hers. That subtle invitation was all he needed to recall swiftly what his original purpose had been, but this time he moved far more slowly, holding her gently in his arms as his mouth continued to savor the sweetness of her kiss. He waited until she drew him near, pressing her body closer to his own before he slid his hand down the curve of her thigh and then beneath her dress. The coarse wool had scratched her tender skin, leaving it flushed, but his touch was light, as delicate as the early afternoon breeze, and he caused her no further pain, but gave her instead a warm, soft glow of pleasure that swelled through her loins and then sped along her spine to the lengths of her graceful limbs. Her legs were entwined with his, her whole body eager for his loving, and still he waited, wanting her to feel the ever increasing passion that throbbed within his veins until it was a driving rhythm creating a need he could no longer control. Her gown came off easily in his hands and he lowered his mouth to her breasts, letting his lips slide over their creamy fullness before straying lower still. His tongue flicked across her ribs. She was so slender now he could count them easily, yet he still thought her delicate figure superb. The smooth skin of her stomach was pale, and so soft. He tightened his hands around her waist to hold her close as he began to nuzzle the triangle of blonde curls that beckoned to him with an irresistibly enticing promise of delights he meant to savor to the fullest.

Celiese gave no more than the smallest cry of surprise, for the pleasure Mylan gave with his ever more demanding kiss was too great to allow her a moment to either question or protest his methods. Her shock was dulled by the sheer joy of her body’s response, and she lay back upon the soft spring grass, unable to do more than wind her fingers in his thick curls so he’d not draw away and leave her on the edge of an unbearably delicious ecstasy rather than plunging with her to its depths. His name escaped her throat in a low, husky moan the strength of her need matching his own as she lured him beyond his own desire to an awaking awareness of the beautiful woman who longed to be his wife. He felt the exquisite pleasure he gave shudder through her body and wanted only to give more, to command her loyalty with the most splendid gift possible for a man and woman to share. He adored her in that instant, and when he was certain he had pleased her as greatly as any man ever could, his lips sought hers eagerly as he brought an end to his own anguish, conquering her vibrant body without the slightest bit of resistance this time. She welcomed his loving with a tenderness that made his pleasure as great as hers, deepening the bond that had grown between them. But he would not speak of love, and she dared not give voice to her feelings either.