Page 49 of Haakon's Fate
“A beautiful name for a beautiful man. It is my lucky day, I’d say.” She allowed her gaze to wander over him greedily. Yes. She was reeking of lust. “It’s not every day we have such interesting guests.”
“Thank you, but Gytha is far more interesting than I am, trust me. You should go speak to her.” Now that he thought of it, they had not been asked to share in any interesting stories as payment for the troop’s hospitality. Well, too late. Right now he intended to go to bed and they would leave at first light. The musicians had missed their chance.
“Mm, perhaps she is interesting, and she is a good dancer, I will admit, but my tastes run more to strapping men than petite females.”
Instead of answering, he smiled blandly then made to walk past her but she moved at the same time, trapping him between the fire and her own burning body. Short of pushing her out of the way—which was getting increasingly tempting—there was nothing he could do but wait to hear for whatever she intended to tell him.
“We could go spend a moment in the woods together,” she suggested, licking her lips. “I promise you won’t regret it.”
And he was sure of the opposite. He had promised to stay clear of Saxons and he would—at least he would stay clear of this particularly bold one.
“Thank you, but I’m really tired.”
“You won’t have to do a thing.”
Hell, what was a man to do to convince a woman he didn’t want his cock sucked? He could think of only one thing. “Forgive me,” he said, leaning in to speak in her ear. “But I’m not interested. My tastes, too, run more to strapping men than petite females.”
The shock on the woman’s face was ample reward for his effort. Finally, she moved and he was able to join Gytha, who hadsat back down on her log. A becoming flush was still coloring her cheeks. She beamed when he stopped in front of her.
“I had such a great time tonight.”
Yes, and after the weeks she’d had, she’d needed it. “I’m glad. Now, let’s go settle in some corner or other to sleep,” he said, lifting her by the elbow. “If I don’t give the impression of being tired, I’m afraid that woman over there is going to pounce on me, whether I want her to or not.” He would not admit he had pretended to prefer men to escape her clutches. “I wouldn’t be surprised if her name was Edita, you know.”
Gytha was amused by the jest, as he’d hoped. “Don’t tell me you are using me to protect yourself from an assault from a puny woman?”
“What if I were?” he asked, signaling that she should follow him back to the horses to retrieve their blankets. He had already spotted the perfect place for them to sleep, away from the crowd of people, on the mossy ground under a mighty oak. “And puny or not, there is nothing more dangerous than a determined woman. Because I cannot do what I would do with a man to dispose of her.”
“Which is?”
“Send her flying, like I did with Oswald. I will not raise a hand to a woman.”
Gytha cocked her head. “Mm. You do have a point. Muscles are useless in this instance. But…”
“But what?”
“Well, why didn’t you respond to her invitation?”
Good question. It had not crossed his mind for a moment. Who agreed to ride a temperamental mule when a spirited mare was ready? Haakon winced at the unflattering image. What was he doing, comparing women to animals to be ridden? The desire he was feeling for Gytha must be addling his mind, he decided.
“If you must know, I really am tired and would like to sleep,” he said instead, handing her one of the blankets.
That was not strictly true. With the right woman, he would gladly have spent a sleepless night, watching her do the riding and then he would have taken his turn. With the right woman, he would have agreed to have his cock and everything else she wanted licked.
Gytha flushed as if she had heard his musings. Or… Was it even worse?
Lost to his fantasises, had he spoken out loud? He dearly hoped not.
“Very well,” she mumbled. “Let’s get some sleep then. We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
15
“Haakon.”
Gytha.
Haakon frowned as he recognized her voice—and her scent. She had placed a hand on his chest, right above his heart and was bent over him, doing her best to wake him up. He was reminded of the night in her house, when he’d thought she had joined him in bed in the middle of the night, only to find himself under a drunken Oswald.
Was this what was happening now? Had she, like him, been driven to the edge of control by their constant proximity during the day? Did she want him to make love to her? She could well do. Why else would she come to him in the middle of the night or whisper his name with such urgency, touching him all the while? She must have realized that there was something between them. Had she danced so provocatively to provoke his lust earlier on, tried to stir his senses to make it impossible for him to resist when she came?
