The Heart's Warrior (19 page)

She gave a scornful laugh. “Your audacity truly

amazes me. You’re pompous in your assumptions.”

Jonas burrowed deeper into the furs and settled

himself to sleep. “It’s quite simple, Kerstin. One day, Elezer will force me to kill him, of that I have little doubt.

I only hope you’ve come to your senses first. I don’t want your revenge directed at me any more than it already is.”

“And what of your vengeance?”

“It will wait.”

****

Kerstin’s spine. One day, he would kill her, she was certain of it. Like a spider, he waited until she was caught in his web and he could spring at her. The years yawned before them. Once the king won his war and no longer cared if she lived or died, Jonas would make his move.

Then, he would find a more willing woman to give him heirs.

Kerstin stepped away from the bed. She reached for the woolen cloth in the washbasin and wrung it out, choking the cloth as if it were Jonas’s neck. Rivulets of water trickled over her fingers and she tried to let the cooling liquid soothe her frayed nerves.

“You shouldn’t be so certain of yourself. I might not stop Elezer the next time he finds you vulnerable.” She made this hollow threat, to take him off balance. Never could she stand by and watch Elezer murder Jonas.

He smiled, his eyes still closed. “When I’m feeling better, I’ll show you just how certain I am.”

At a light tapping on the door, Kerstin gave a curt reply. Minin came in carrying a tray of broth, a mug of milk, and brown flatbread spread with yellow butter.

“Place it there.” Kerstin nodded at the table beside her. Barely sparing Jonas a glance, Minin did as ordered 125

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and then scurried for the door, closing it behind her.

The tangy aroma of the broth filled the room. Jonas opened his eyes and sat up, easing his injured shoulder away from the bed. Picking up the mug of fresh milk, Kerstin threw a frosty glare at him as she handed him the cup. “Elezer is desperate right now and not thinking clearly. I don’t believe he would have tried to murder you if he had been in his right mind.” Yet her trust in Elezer faltered.

Jonas grunted. As he brought the cup to his lips, he peered at her over the brim, his eyes sparkling like blue gems. “I know full well that you saved my life, not because you care for me but because you fear the king’s wrath if I die. I’ve watched you tend your people and learned in the short time I’ve known you that there’s nothing you love more than them.”

As he took a long drink of milk, Kerstin wished to deny his words but they were true.

When Jonas lowered the cup, he wore a white

mustache of froth on his upper lip. Hiding a smile of amusement, she handed him a cloth. At his quizzical look, she indicated he should wipe his mouth, which he did.

“If you hate Elezer so much, why haven’t you

challenged him in open combat before today?” she asked.

Jonas peered at her, his brow furrowed, his gaze

direct. “It would be murder. The man isn’t capable of defending himself in honest battle. Besides, the king needs Elezer’s men to fight. If I killed him now, it would open up another hornet’s nest. Our people don’t need that right now.” He laid back and the box bed creaked as he shifted to get more comfortable. “Don’t worry, Kerstin. I’ll be cautious during the battle so Elezer’s blade doesn’t find my back.”

Kerstin longed to defend Elezer’s honor. After today, she couldn’t. His cowardly actions shook her faith in him as nothing else could. She wanted to change the subject.

“What is it that makes you frown so, my lord? Does your wound pain you?”

“Nay, it mends well enough.”

“Then, perhaps it’s your hunger.” Sitting close beside him on the bed, she picked up the saucer of broth. As she 126

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pressed it to his lips, he drank of the nourishing liquid, his ice blue gaze resting on her.

He lifted a hand and brushed a tendril of hair away from her cheek. “Yes, I’m hungry.”

Warmth flooded her and she looked away.

“How long?” he asked.

She gave him a questioning look.

“How long have I been ill?”

“This is the fourth day. You’ve made an amazing

recovery.”

Tearing pieces of coarse brown bread with her

fingers, she placed a piece of it against his lips. He opened his mouth and bit down gently on her finger, taking both the bread and her finger into his mouth.

She gasped and jerked her hand away. He chuckled, his eyes glowing like hot coals.

Tearing off more bread, she handed him a piece

rather than placing it in his mouth. Jonas reached to take it and the furs slipped from his arm and chest. He grabbed for them, his face flushed with color.

Guilt shredded her heart. Words hovered on the tip of her tongue to apologize for the fire that killed his first wife, but she didn’t want to remind him of the reasons he hated her.

“Unless you’re cold, leave them,” Kerstin said. “While I’ve tended you, I’ve seen every inch of your body. You have no secrets from me, Jonas Sigurdsson.”

She didn’t know why she sought to reassure him. As he stared into her eyes, she felt the flush of heat stain her face. Rising from the bed, she grew ill-at-ease. Somehow, their bond had changed, and she didn’t understand what or how, nor was she prepared to deal with it—this all happened too fast to suit her.

As she turned her head to look at Jonas, she half-expected him to appear embarrassed. He surprised her yet again. His gaze remained steady on her face as he chewed the bread and swallowed. His naked chest

gleamed in front of her, but this time he did nothing to shield the scars from her view. Now it seemed he dared her to show repulsion for his disfigurement. He would be astonished to know that she found nothing revolting about him, except his temper.

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His gaze swept her and when he spoke, his tone dry.

“My secrets would yet surprise you, Kerstin of Moere.”

Though he finished the broth and several bites of bread, his appetite appeared weak.

“I will bathe you now.” Kerstin brushed crumbs from the furs and brought linens to lie beside him on the bed to dry him afterward.

Picking up the chunk of soap with one hand, she

fingered the furs covering Jonas with her other hand. The pelts were rich and soft, a variety of brown bear and red fox. The long hairs tickled her fingers as she moved them away from Jonas’s torso. Ignoring his uneasy frown, she lathered his chest. Her fingers glided over his warm flesh as she washed him. She felt no discomfiture for she had become accustomed to his body. Though she would never admit it, she had even come to delight in doing this small service for him.

A slight frown tugged at his brows. He studied her, as if to determine if he could trust her.

With quick movements, she rinsed him. A cry of

fright escaped her when Jonas grasped her hands and pulled her close so she leaned across his wet chest. The water soaked her dress, the cloying wetness sticking to her skin.

“Now look what you’ve done.”

His warm breath caressed her face as he looked at her. Their gazes caught and held. As his clear eyes probed into hers, she almost saw his mind working. She longed to ask him what he thought, but her throat went dry and she couldn’t speak.

Although he held her firm, his hands remained

gentle. He clenched his jaw, his mouth tight, his brows furrowed with thought.

She didn’t struggle, but wondered what he wanted.

Her nose twitched at the smell of garlic. For once, Jonas didn’t smell of mint and cloves. She smiled with

amusement, not daring to tell him that he stank. Even so, she preferred his odor to Elezer’s.

Her skin burned where it touched his. Her heart

pounded with excitement and her arms quivered. She would never admit she hoped he might kiss her.

His gaze lowered to her mouth. “You’re lovely. And 128

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you’re my wife, Kerstin of Moere. Elezer will never have you.” “I want
no
man.” How she wished it were true.

Seeing Elezer’s gutless character, she realized she no longer wished to be with him. Jonas was the only man who—

Kerstin refused to complete her thought. Marriage to him would hold no satisfaction. Not as long as they had this canyon of hate between them.

“‘Tis just as well,” he replied gruffly. “It’ll mean less arguments and fewer entanglements for me.”

He kissed her then, and she sighed with delight.

Heaven help her, she longed for his touch. As his mouth slanted across hers, she found herself all but lying in his lap. His strong arms cradled her, his hoarse breath hot against her cheek.

Jonas released her and once more lay back on the

bed, closing his eyes. He rubbed his shoulder with one hand, breathing heavily.

Kerstin smiled. “I don’t think you’re in any shape to be chasing after my skirt.”

He opened his eyes and grinned. “Give me a few more days, then we shall see.”

His charm melted her heart and she felt a blaze of heat fill her body with anticipation. Sultry kisses were one thing, but consummation was another. It could bind them even closer when she longed to run away.

She hurried with his bath. Several times, she

thought he might object. She saw him hesitate when she asked that he turn over onto his stomach. He did so, presenting his back to her. He watched her from over his shoulder, as she soaped his scarred shoulder. He focused on her expressions, seeming curious of her reaction to him. She ignored him and acted like nothing was wrong.

With a minimum of movements, Kerstin rinsed the suds away and toweled him dry with the clean linens. If he thought his scars repulsed her, he was mistaken.

Now that he was awake, she refused to bathe the

lower half of his body. Placing the washbasin aside, she went to the table where she picked up a jar of clear ointment. Removing the lid, she brought it back to the bed 129

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and dipped her fingers into the jellied substance, then set the jar close beside Jonas’s head.

****

“Aloe.” She knelt beside him and rubbed the stuff into the scars covering his back.

Jonas stared at the concoction, then sniffed. “I don’t detect any unique aroma. I only smell garlic.”

She laughed.

His nose crinkled as he sniffed again. “What does it do?” She dipped her fingers into the jar. “It will soften your skin and heal the scars.”

Moving beneath her stroking fingertips, he scoffed.

“My burns are already healed. There’s no need to pay them further heed.”

She continued to massage the ointment into his skin.

“We shall see.”

Jonas let the soothing sound of her voice wash over him. Her hands felt gentle but firm and he relaxed beneath her ministering. The pads of her fingertips moved over the contours of his muscles, kneading, massaging, easing the tension from his weary body. Years of hiding his scarred flesh had conditioned him to be embarrassed without his shirt. Yet, she truly seemed not to care about the ugliness of his marred skin. She soothed his soul and he could not bring himself to pull away. Dare he hope she was sincere in her touch?

“Oh,” he groaned with delight. “That feels good.”

Slowly, his muscles relaxed. His body felt weak as a newborn babe. The encounter with Elezer had left him shaking from the exertion and his endurance ebbed.

She rubbed his shoulders, careful of his wound, her hands gliding over his biceps and forearms. Then, she bandaged the wound and bade him roll to his back. He did so and she dipped her fingers into the jar again. With gentle strokes, she smoothed the balm over his chest and down his abdomen. He grew fully awake now, his body alive with sensation, his blood pounding in his veins.

Opening his eyes, his gaze swept her. Wisps of fiery hair had escaped her braid and framed her angelic face.

Her emerald gaze focused on her task, her lips parted as 130

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she breathed. She had small and delicate features, her skin clear and smooth. Her damp dress did little to hide her feminine curves and he realized she was more than beautiful. She certainly didn’t look like a witch, but that was part of her deceit, to entice him into her

enchantment. He watched her, looking for any sign that his body was abhorrent to her. Nothing but serene beauty graced her features.

As her hands swept past his stomach, he grasped

them and held on tight. She looked at him, her gaze one of wonder and innocence. Did she truly not know what she did to him? How much he wanted her? He supposed even a witch could be innocent to a man’s touch. Perhaps Elezer had not yet taught her passion.

The uncertainty in her green eyes he knew was not because of his scars. He traced the pad of his thumb over the soft flesh of her fingers and fixed his gaze on her face.

He longed to kiss her again but knew that would lead to other things and he was in no condition to see it through.

Kerstin blinked and raised a questioning brow, then withdrew her hands. He wanted to ask her so many

questions about her life. To talk of things a husband and wife would speak of. But he didn’t know where to begin.

Confiding such things required trust, something they had none of.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I—I nothing.” He was tongue-tied!

She looked away and his heart wrenched. Would they ever have a comfortable acceptance of each other? Jonas longed to make her smile, to feel her soft, warm and pliant in his arms. When she placed her palms on his shoulders, he blew out his breath in a great sigh. His body simmered with fire, yet he had no stamina.

“Shh,” she quieted him with a whisper. “You need

rest. Be still and don’t be afraid to sleep. I’ll watch that Elezer doesn’t return. I gave you my pledge.”

He almost laughed. She thought he feared sleep. If she only knew. “You also pledged to give me children.”