CHAPTER FIVE
“That cannae be comfortable.”
Ragnar’s eyes opened slowly from where he was sleeping in the corridor. Isolda stood above him, a steaming cup cradled in both hands. He blinked, taking in his position, his broad shoulders wedged firmly against the doorframe.
“How long have ye been watchin’ me sleep?”
“I havenae beenwatchin’anythin’.” Heat crawled up her neck as she thrust the cup at him. “Ye look half dead.”
“Ye brought me tea?”
“I broughtmeselftea.” She lied. “Ye just happened tae be in the way, sprawled out like some hibernatin’ bear. By the look of ye, ye need it more than I dae.”
His mouth twitched. “Hibernatin’ bear?”
“I’ve other names fer ye, none fit fer sayin’ aloud.”
“Now I’m curious.”
“And ye’ll stay that way.” She watched him stretch with careful movements, heard the quiet grunt he tried to smother. “Ye spent the entire night out here.”
“Aye.”
“Did ye think I’d suddenly sprout wings and fly off intae the night?”
“Well, ye already tried runnin’ once.”
“Aye. And ye caught me. What’s the use in tryin’ again?”
“Dinnae ken.” Something that might have been amusement flickered across his face. “But ye’re a clever lass. Thought ye might surprise me.”
Isolda’s brow arched. She should go back inside. Should shut the door and pretend she hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes standing in the common room convincing the innkeeper’s wife to part with her last bit of decent tea leaves and carrying the brew up the stairs like some sort of offering to a god she didn’t believe in.
He took the cup, fingers brushing hers.
Ragnar’s gaze dropped to the cup, then back to her face. For a long moment, he said nothing. Just looked at her with an expression she couldn’t name.
“The tea’s terrible,” she said. “It’ll probably give ye stomach cramps. Which would serve ye right fer blockin’ the way.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. He lifted the cup to his lips. His eyes closed briefly, but whether from the warmth or the taste, she couldn’t tell.
“I appreciate ye goin’ tae the trouble of acquirin’ this terrible brew fer me.”
Her pulse jumped.
Who would have thought… the savage has manners!
“I already told ye?—”
“I ken what ye told me.” He took another sip, watching her over the rim with those steady blue eyes. “Daesnae make it true, little wolf.”
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant sounds of the inn waking—boots on floorboards, the creak of shutters being opened, someone coughing in a nearby room.Isolda suddenly became acutely aware that she was standing in her borrowed nightshift and shawl, dark hair falling loose around her shoulders.
It was intimate in a way that made her pulse jump.
“The storm’s passed,” Ragnar said finally, setting the cup down. “We should set sail within the hour.”
She glanced away. “So soon?”
