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Kara peered at the board. She could win, just. And he was right. She hated quitting and admitting defeat. ‘I’ve just begun to fight.’
She rapidly took one of his pieces to show that she could.
‘Good. Let me try this, Kara.’ He leant forward. ‘Let me follow my instinct with Rurik. I promise you only good will come of it. Give me permission. Let me fight for our son.’
How very like Ash! Agreeing to one thing and then asking for more. But she could understand why he asked it and at least he was asking.
‘The last time I let you follow your instinct, you were gone for seven years.’
‘Circumstances beyond my control.’ He gestured about him. ‘Had I known all this waited for me, I would have tried harder to get home.’
Something inside her melted. Ash had offered her an apology of sorts. And he liked it here. ‘I’ll take it into consideration.’
The firelight lit the planes in his face, highlighting his cheekbones. His eyes had turned into pools of the summer sea. He wore the identical expression as Rurik when he’d begged to be trained. ‘Please, Kara.’
Her heart tugged. She hated that Ash might be correct about Rurik and his hero-worship. And he was abiding by her decision, rather than begging forgiveness after the fact. It was a question of the lesser of two evils. ‘Very well, I won’t forbid Virvir, but it is up to you to keep Rurik safely occupied.’
‘Good.’ Ash expertly took her king piece. ‘This match is now mine.’
Kara stared at it in dismay. ‘How did you do that?’
A smile kissed his mouth. ‘My father taught you well, Kara, but I know that gambit that you used. You’re far too cautious and seek safety when it is an illusion. I waited for you to make a mistake. I never give up even when things appear blackest.’
‘You have no idea how I play.’ She raised her eyes to his. ‘Not now.’
A muscle twitched in his jaw. ‘I’ve made a careful study over the past few days. You are a fascinating woman, Kara. Endlessly fascinating.’
Her mouth ached to be kissed. She kept her gaze on the board. ‘A warning that you don’t play fair?’
‘I prefer—taking advantage of every opportunity and having the patience to wait for the right one.’ He gave a half-smile. ‘It makes life easier.’
‘Are you trying to tell me something?’ Kara ground out. She hated that Ash considered her easy to understand. ‘If so, know I, too, learn from my mistakes. I tend not to repeat them.’
‘Am I a mistake?’
‘I haven’t decided.’ She saw a flash of hurt cross Ash’s face and remorse went through her. ‘However, you gave me Rurik and he could never be a mistake.’
‘Then you agree to a match tomorrow night, so you can show me how wise you’ve become overnight?’
Kara winced. She’d intended to find an excuse. ‘I accept your challenge.’
‘Good. I look forward to testing your skill to the limit. We are well matched, even if you refuse to see it.’ Ash reached for the pitcher of ale and poured a glass. ‘The skald should sing other songs. Something a bit more pleasing to the ear.’ He mentioned one of the sagas she used to love.
She shook her head. ‘The hour is late and the song is long. I need my rest.’
‘Then I wish you pleasant dreams. Remember the choice of venue for our match is yours.’
Kara was intensely aware of his gaze on her mouth. Her lips ached as if he passionately kissed them.
‘Here will be sufficient. No wagers—I’ve seen how you play.’
‘If I’d truly wanted you off balance, there were other ways. I’ll allow you your illusions for now.’ His low voice followed her out of the room.
* * *
Once Kara reached her chamber, she halted and sunk down to her knees, disgusted at how her body hummed with desire for his touch. She couldn’t risk her heart. Not again. Denying the attraction was practically impossible, but her heart shattering again was worse. Ash was far from dependable. She tried to recite the litany of his failings, but kept finding reasons why they no longer applied. She breathed deeply and knew the night would be a fight against dreaming about him and how good they could be together.
* * *
‘My lady!’ Thora burst in the kitchen where Kara supervised the bread-making several mornings later. ‘They have begun the training early. Your son has a sword, a proper long sword.’
‘A sword? Yesterday it was only a stick.’ Kara looked up from her portion of bread dough. Ash should have asked her before he put a sharp blade in her son’s hands. She thought he would have discussed it with her first, perhaps during their nightly tafl matches. So much for his easy words about consulting her.
