LITMIR.BIZ

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winner with the highest number gets a kiss from her.’ Ivar’s expression turned heated, and it took an effort not to look away. He was giving her a chance to refuse, but Caragh couldn’t bring herself to speak.

      The truth was, she wanted to kiss Styr again, no matter how sinful it was. Her skin tightened at the thought, even though she knew he wouldn’t want to. Even suggesting it was wrong.

      But the temptation was too great to deny.

      She offered a slight nod of acceptance, while Styr answered, ‘No.’

      The satisfied smile of Ivar revealed that he’d wanted a reason to kiss her, and she’d given him the means to try.

      To her left, she glimpsed Styr’s fury. The rage was palpable, as if she were committing an unforgivable sin.

      But when Ivar won the toss, she wasn’t prepared for the black look on Styr’s face. Nor was she ready for the unexpected heat of Ivar’s kiss that captured her lips. He didn’t hesitate to reveal his desire, palming her spine and drawing her close as he kissed her. But when he tried to slip his tongue inside her mouth, she pulled back.

      Her face flamed with embarrassment for what she’d done. She mumbled something about her brothers, and retreated from both of them, her mind caught up in a storm of uncertainty.

      Was she trying to prove something to Styr? For what purpose?

      He belonged to another woman and was devoted to her. Asking him to betray Elena was wrong. For he never would, and even if he were not wed, he certainly wouldn’t claim a woman like herself.

      Caragh rested her forehead against the wood, remaining in the shadows. If any of the slaves saw her, they avoided her presence. She wished she could be absorbed into the wall, for already she regretted the impulse. She’d made Ivar think she welcomed his interest, and she’d infuriated Styr.

      She was beginning to question her decisions, for she was now behaving like a desperate woman. Not at all like herself.

      A moment later, a strong body invaded her space, pressing her against the wall. From the moment he touched her, she knew it was not Ivar.

      Styr held her motionless, his powerful body entrapping her against the wood. The heat of his skin and the feeling of helplessness both attracted and frightened her.

      ‘Let me go,’ she demanded.

      ‘Do you have any idea what you’re doing? You’ve just given him a reason to slip into your bed this night.’ His hands clasped her wrists, as if to mimic the way she’d captured him.

      Styr was behaving with jealousy, reacting with the force of a thunderstorm. She pushed back, her own anger rising up. ‘And why would you care? We both know there’s nothing between us.’

      But he didn’t let go of her. ‘Don’t push me, Caragh. If I weren’t here to defend you, he would take you.’

      His hands softened against her wrists, moving down her arms to her waist. ‘He could overpower you in seconds.’

      ‘The way you’re doing now?’ she challenged. Her voice was hardly more than a whisper, but she could feel the fire rising in him. Standing on the tips of her toes, she rested both hands on his face. ‘You may think you’re trying to protect me by proving how easy it is to claim someone as weak as I am.’

      With a hard shove, she broke free. ‘But all you’re doing is making me think you’re not as close to your wife as you say you are.’

      The look of shock in his eyes turned to vehemence. ‘You have no right to say that.’

      ‘And you have no right to treat me like this,’ she finished. When she’d freed herself from his grasp, she turned back. ‘I hope my brothers return soon. Because it doesn’t seem that I’m safe with you, either.’

Chapter Nine

      A blade grazed the back of his neck.

      ‘I find that I’m not so willing to lend you my hospitality, Hardrata.’ Ivar held his knife steady. ‘Especially when you’re threatening one of my guests.’

      Styr said nothing, but lifted his hands up, allowing Caragh to escape. He made no denial of what he’d done, though it was meant to be a warning, not a threat. An innocent like Caragh had no idea what she’d done by kissing the Norseman.

      Did she genuinely want the man? Or did she have another motive?

      The blade left his neck, and he turned slowly. Caragh stood between them and explained, ‘He was not threatening me. Styr was warning me about putting myself in a position that could be harmful.’

      Her voice remained calm, as if nothing at all had happened. As if they’d never argued.

      Slowly, she took the knife from Ivar’s hands. ‘I know he was right. As a woman, I shouldn’t have gone off alone.’

      ‘No one in this house would harm you,’ Ivar said quietly. ‘Did he…bother you?’ From the grim tone of the man, it sounded as if Ivar wouldn’t have minded killing him.

      The feeling was mutual. Seeing Caragh yield to the Norseman, softening beneath his lips, had evoked a feral sense of possession. Styr couldn’t fathom why it would irritate him.

      ‘I am fine.’ She placed her hand upon Ivar’s arm and sent a glance back at Styr as if warning him to stay away.

      Throughout the next hour, he said nothing at all while Ivar told Caragh stories of their homeland. The man wove tales of adventure, showing her treasures of silver and gold. Her eyes were bright with interest, and a smile lingered upon her mouth.

      Yet each time she glanced at Styr, he saw the unrest behind those violet eyes. She feared what he would do when they found her brother within the city. The truth was, he didn’t know. Instinct forced him towards a path of revenge, but when he thought of causing her anguish, his gut tightened.

      The feelings of a woman shouldn’t matter. But he was acutely aware of every movement she made, every word she spoke.

      And that was more dangerous than anything else.

      When her brothers arrived later that night, Styr withdrew even further, until Ronan approached him.

      ‘What did you find?’ Styr asked.

      ‘Your ship was taken by the Danes,’ Ronan answered, confirming what he’d learned from Onund. ‘My brother and your men were sold into slavery.’ He nodded towards Ivar. ‘I understand you found some of them.’

      Styr told him what he’d learned, ending with, ‘We are still looking for your brother.’

      Ronan gave a nod, but his eyes were fixed upon Ivar and Caragh. ‘What of him? You seem to be allowing him to spend time with our sister.’

      ‘That is her choice to make.’ He turned back to the man, considering whether or not to tell him the truth about Elena. Already he’d allowed the man to draw false conclusions about Caragh and him. Though he’d wanted the use of their ship, it might be wiser to break the alliance.

      Before he could say another word, Onund approached them. At his side were three more of Styr’s men.

      ‘There will be a ritual in the morning,’ Onund informed him. ‘There have been sightings of many ships approaching, and the men here intend to summon a volva to predict whether or not to attack the Danes.’

      ‘The women have begun grinding barley for the bread on the morrow,’ another said. ‘Ivar intends to host a feast and offer his own sacrifices.’

      ‘Does he intend to sacrifice any of the thralls?’ Though animals were most often sacrificed to the gods, there were sometimes human sacrifices, as well.

      Onund glanced at his kinsmen, his face unreadable. ‘He has not spoken

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