Page 37 of Merciful Salvation

He rifled through his saddle bag and pulled out a crumbling oak cake. “Here.”

“This wouldn’t feed a rat.” She eyed the stale lump in her palm, then dropped it on the ground. “Give me something more substantial.”

“Only if you can catch me.” He heeled his mare. The beast shot forward, quick as the wind.

Hours later, Kara winced. She’d never ridden a horse so far. Gone without food for so long. And never wanted to gut someone with a knife so badly. Her legs and arse were numb. When Aaron finally chose a place to stop for the night, her legs were too weak to dismount. Damn his underhanded tactics. He knew she’d never complain. Knew she’d fight to keep pace with him the whole way. And knew she’d be as stiff as a board, come nightfall.

As he unpacked, he whistled as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Then he unrolled his fur and spread his tartan over it. The rogue represented a Norse king, but slept under his clan colors. She shook her head. Another reason she doubted him. Just who did Jarl McNally serve? What god did he pray to? What country did he love? He continued his preparations without stopping to check on her. Kara slumped in the saddle, nearly too tired to hold herself up. She bitterly refused to ask for his assistance.

By now, her arms were tingling. She’d probably suffer a permanent disfigurement just so the jarl could show that she wasn’t as strong as him. She envisioned herself as a cripple, hunch backed from leaning over so long. Too tired and hungry to think about it any longer, she managed to drag her right leg over the saddle. When her feet touched ground, she staggered to the nearest cluster of trees. Before she went too far, Aaron called for her. Did he want to hold her hand while she relieved herself?

He caught up with her. “I told you to stay close.”

At first, there appeared to be two of him. She closed her right eye—getting the same result. “I’m not in the habit of asking permission to see to my personal needs.”

“Look around Kara,” he said. “There’s no chamber pots. No safety.”

Bullying swine. “I’m sure I’ll find my way back.” She turned away.

Aaron’s strong fingers fastened around her arm. “It’s late. I’m tired. You’re exhausted. Don’t fight me.”

Kara took a deep breath and swung around, suddenly feeling wide awake. The smug look on his face infuriated her. She jabbed a finger in his chest. “Fight you? You cast more insults than a stable boy slings shite.” She walked him back several feet. “I deserve respect. Unless all of this is because you wish to peek under my skirts.”

His lips twitched. And then he came dangerously close, making her feel very small and helpless. “Careful with your words, lass.” His hot gaze swept over her. “And your body.”

His words triggered something inside her. All of this tension, all this disagreement amounted to one thing. Attraction. She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his narrow waist. Then she tugged him closer, clinging as if her life depended on it. It felt so good to be in his arms again. Aaron’s eyes brimmed with emotion. But he refused to touch her.

“Will you deny me your affection twice?” she asked.

“Jesus bloody Christ...” he moaned. “Do you know what you’re asking, lass?”

She stood on her toes and planted a firm kiss on his lips. Then she raked her teeth across his bottom lip. His eyes flared open.Hesitation is weakness.Something Geilir had taught her. Although the adage pertained to battle, Kara knew a war raged inside him. Her, too, most especially between her legs. She felt a surge of moisture and heat. Her neglected lips ached for his attention. “Kiss me, Aaron.”

There was no reason to deny himself. She didn’t need protection, she needed him. Staring heavenward, she noted the sun had nearly dipped below the horizon. Colors of dusk reflected in his eyes. She could languish in his warmth forever. Then she suddenly regretted every offensive word she’d pitched at him. Pride kept her from apologizing now, but it wouldn’t keep her from touching him. What she couldn’t affirm with words, she’d confess with her body. “Kiss me.”

He attacked her frenzied and desperate, brushing his lips roughly over hers. His arms encircled her waist. “I cannot give you half my body, lass. Are you sure you want this?”

She nodded.More than anything.

His face broke into a dark, satisfied smile. She’d do anything to please him. When he threaded his fingers through her hair, bringing her face closer to his, his perfect mouth covered hers. Her heart thumped. She clenched her eyes shut, relishing the feel of his fingers frisking up her sides. Then a flurry of feather light kisses warmed her face.

“I want to own your body, Kara,” he whispered against her ear.

His voice prickled her skin. He thrust his hips, colliding with her center. Her hips bucked back, mistrustful of the hunger rising inside her. She strongly suspected Aaron was the only thing that could sate her appetite. Whatever she did would affect her future. Not that she’d ever seriously considered who she’d be with until now. As if he sensed her hesitation, his lips coaxed her mouth open. Slow, methodic kisses convinced her she’d chosen correctly. Anything Aaron did rendered her helpless—mindless. Her body relaxed under his special care.

Is this what it meant to be a woman? Amelia told her she’d go to sleep a girl and wake a woman.

“Når jeg berører deg, kan hele verden brenne og jeg vil ikke være i stand til å tenke på noe annet.”Aaron spoke perfect Norse.

When I touch you, the whole world can burn and I will not be able tothink of anything else.His words left her breathless.

Her gaze dropped to his chest, then lower. His snug fitting braies couldn’t conceal his excitement. The swell between his legs stirred her desire. She wanted to feel him, hold onto him.

“Kara,” he groaned.

She blinked up at him. “Aaron.” She’d utter his name a hundred times if it would stop the strange, insatiable cravings invading her body.

Gathering her in his arms, Aaron carried her to the edge of the lake a few yards away. Threads of golden light colored the sky, reflecting off the water. His mind struggled to maintain control over his body. He gently set her on her feet, searching her face for signs of resistance or fear. The lass didn’t fully understand the implications of making love. Her body served as her oath to him. As did his to her. There’d be no turning back—they’d belong to each other—forever.