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The kiss instantly deepened and his tongue toyed with hers, probing and then retreating, enticing her to follow.
He rolled them over so he was on top and the whole length of him pressed down on her. She arched her back to feel more of him as his mouth moved ever more deeply over hers.
A pounding at the door and distressed cries startled her and called her back to reality, the place where she ought to be. She tore her lips from his.
‘Someone shouts.’
‘Ignore them.’ He traced her lips with his forefinger. ‘They will go away. You have your customs. My people have theirs. It is a game we play.’
‘Game?’
‘Bothering a man after he has spent a night with a woman. I regret even starting it.’
‘Have you slept a whole night with a woman before?’
‘Not the full night.’ He moved his lips down her neck, taking little nibbles. ‘You are the first.’
‘And this is how you honour your wife?’ she whispered.
‘In part.’ His tongue circled the hollow of her throat.
The pounding was incessant, enough to wake the dead. He rolled off her and lay there, breathing heavily.
‘Yes?’ he shouted out. ‘Who dares disturb me on my wedding morning?’
‘Trouble at the harbour, Hrolf. Bragi sent us.’
Sayrid started to slide out of the bed, but Hrolf’s hand pressed her back against the pillow.
‘Let someone else deal with it. Bragi is more than capable.’ His hand trailed down her shoulder, drawing an intricate pattern which made her breathless. ‘I refuse to be distracted just when it has become interesting.’
‘Unbolt the door or we will smash it in.’
Sayrid’s stomach clenched. Something was truly wrong. Her mind raced with the possibilities—a raid, or a sail spotted or even a fight between her men and his. ‘Can you take the chance? We should both go.’
Hrolf sighed and rolled back on to his side. ‘It is the morning after my wedding night. I know the tricks my men can play. By Freyr’s grove, I’ve played them often enough myself.’
‘Do you dare take the risk?’
He shook his head. ‘Thank you for understanding. Not many women would.’
Sayrid swallowed the sudden feeling of disappointment which intermingled with relief. If things had continued, he’d soon discover how hopeless she was. She’d actually jabbed him in the stomach earlier. And thank every goddess he hadn’t seen her back or he’d have turned away from her. All her stepmother’s warnings crowded back and she wondered that she’d forgotten even for an instant.
‘Waiting could prove fatal. In my experience, problems only grow.’ She reached for her discarded gown. ‘I’m sure it won’t take long. Then you can return here. We still have to…well…the marriage needs to begin properly.’
He dropped a swift impersonal kiss on her forehead. ‘My bride is a goddess among women.’
‘There will be other times.’
‘Anticipation is an excellent thing.’ He reached over and retrieved his shirt. In a heartbeat his magnificent chest was covered. ‘You will see…in time.’
Sayrid held her body very still and hoped he would miss the burn in her cheeks. ‘Ships come before everything.’
‘Stay there so that I can think of you waiting for me.’ A flash of fire shone in his eyes. ‘I won’t be long and we can enjoy the morning as I planned.’
He left the room before she had a chance to protest. She dug her fist into the fur and fell backwards. This was not how her life was supposed to go. One kiss, a few caresses and she lacked all willpower to make her own decisions? She thought not. Mealy-mouthed women who deferred constantly to their men, even when they were capable of sorting out the trouble, were creatures to be despised.
She’d been a complete idiot. She should have demanded she go with him or at least not given him the option of saying no.
‘I may be a wife, but I’m not suddenly a doormat,’ she muttered, pulling the gown on and ripping it in another place. She rooted around and found a needle and some thread. She pulled off the gown and did a few more basic alterations. When she had finished, she examined the gown. It was shorter than ever but at least she wouldn’t burst out of it again.
‘Marriage doesn’t mean I’ve stopped being me. I want to know what is going on. Sitting around, waiting for my husband to take care of everything is something I’ve always rejected.’
* * *
‘Your reason for calling me out had better be a good one,’ Hrolf said, approaching Bragi where he stood beside the ship’s hull with his tattoos glistening and a smug smile playing on his misbegotten face. ‘Particularly as I don’t see Kettil. It will bode ill for you if you seek to anger me today of all days.’
