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He reached out and put an arm about her shoulders. ‘I wanted it to be different. I wanted it to be amazing.’
She blinked hard. ‘It was. Thank you.’
Hrolf took his arm from around her shoulders, aware that he had made a complete mess of things.
He had not intended to bed her like that. He had known that she was a virgin and needed careful preparation, but he had behaved like a completely untried warrior, spilling his seed almost immediately and certainly before she was ready. What was worse, he wanted her again with a ravenous hunger.
He wanted to see if her eyes really did go dark with passion.
He sought to regain his legendary control.
His mouth twisted as he noticed the evidence of her virginity on her thighs. He had treated Sayrid like the lowest whore instead of the high-born lady that she undoubtedly was. He had to stop thinking about his base needs and start thinking about her and protecting her. He should behave like her husband, not her lover. There was a difference. He should have treated her with the honour her status required.
‘It is what you wanted to hear, isn’t it?’ she said with an earnest expression on her face.
‘It seldom is amazing the first time,’ he said as remorse swamped him. ‘I want honesty between us, Sayrid. Saying a thing to please me won’t make it so.’
The light went out of her eyes. She tucked her chin into her neck. ‘I will take your word for it. I’ve nothing to compare it with.’
He hated that he’d hurt her, but she had to know the truth. And he did need honesty from her. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of women who had been honest with him. He wanted more from Sayrid and it scared him.
He stood up and pulled on his trousers.
‘We should go. I intend on feasting well in my hall tonight. By the hanged Odin, I’ve long dreamt of this moment.’ He paused. ‘Ever since I left my father’s lands.’
‘Did your father have much land?’
‘A small farm, on the edge of Svear, near Götaland, but it was lost when he died.’ Hrolf made a cutting motion. He had tried to forget his childhood and mostly he succeeded. He wished he’d never mentioned it, but it saved speaking about the mess he’d made of Sayrid’s first bedding. ‘It was then that I learnt the value of coin and land. My father had debts. There was nothing left. I was lucky to have his sword and shield.’
Sayrid stopped, holding the trousers up with one hand. ‘And your mother?’
‘She was the cause of it. She died before him. My maternal uncle took me in.’ Stark words that did not tell the full tragedy of it. His mother had chosen her own family over Hrolf and her husband following the quarrel. She had abandoned them, only to be killed on the way back to her family’s home in a snowstorm. His uncle had tried to say that she was returning to them, but Hrolf knew differently. He had overheard the fight his parents had had.
After her death, his father had been a changed man, eating very little and drinking more. He, too, eventually died in the snow.
‘You left as soon as you were old enough to board a ship.’
Hrolf started. There had been little point in staying. His uncle had made it quite clear that his own sons would gain the land and the ships. All Hrolf had had was his sword arm and his wits.
‘How did you know that?’
Sayrid fastened the belt about her waist. The transformation back to the forbidding warrior woman was complete and yet there was something new in her eyes. Hrolf wondered if he’d ever tire of looking into them.
‘You left your uncle’s and became a sea king,’ she said. ‘It takes years to build up the sort of following you have, particularly if you started from less than nothing.’
‘He actively encouraged me to sail east and start afresh. I heard later that he had died and one of his offspring inherited.’ Hrolf slammed his memory trunk shut. She’d no need to hear of his long-ago disappointments. ‘It happened a long time ago and has no bearing on my life now.’
She tucked her chin into her neck and began to fiddle with her belt. ‘I only wanted to know more about the man I married.’
‘Do not ask for more than I can give.’ He tried to dampen the sudden flaring of hope. She might come to care for him. She might choose him above her family, but how would he know for certain? He couldn’t take the risk. His mother had chosen her family over her husband and young son. ‘Have you told me everything about you? Have you confided why you prefer training with men to sewing with the women?’
‘Everyone will start to wonder where we are,’ she said with a hiccupping laugh. ‘The bathing hut is sure to be hot.’
