That was it? She thought he would be satisfied with such a brief answer? “What, no comment on the color of my eyes or the state of my beard or the size of my muscles?”
“No. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that everything about you is perfect!”
It could have sounded like a compliment, but the infuriating woman made it sound scathing, as if he worried too much about his appearance and had forced countless women to tell him just how appealing they thought him. He had not. Well, not recently, at least. In his youth he had rather enjoyed getting their attention. But then he’d grown out of it.
So what in the name of Odin was he doing, trying to make this little Saxon admit that she was attracted to him? Or to his physique, at least? He wasn’t even sure she liked him. Surely she wouldn’t snap at him so often if she did?
“Anyway, I could ask you the same.” She raised her chin in defiance. “Do I look like any other Saxon woman?”
He wanted to tease her, he really did, make her feel as frustrated as he was feeling. But the answer that came out of his mouth took him by surprise.
“I’ve never seen anyone like you.”
Haakon could tell he had shocked her but that was the truth. He didn’t just mean physically either, even if he had never seen eyes as bright or a smile as compelling as hers. It was her attitude. With her he could not relax, or drop his guard a moment, for fear she might skewer him with one of her barbs and he still wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. All he knew was that it made him feel stimulated in a way he had rarely been.
They stared at one another for a long moment. Then she took a step back, making Haakon realize they had not moved after she’d taken the necklace from him.
“I should go,” she said, casting a glance back to the hut. “Eadhild will be wondering where I’ve gone. We still have a lot to do. Thank you for the necklace.”
He nodded and watched her go.
5
The village woke up under a radiant blue sky. Gytha was relieved. Unlike Eadhild and Halfdan, she preferred not to have to attend the wedding ceremony under a downpour.
She and the other guests who had slept in the hut, four Norsewomen and two other Saxons, helped get the bride ready. In honor of her new life, her friend had opted to wear a dress in the style favored by the Norse community. It was beautiful, of a deep russet color that complemented the copper dancing in her hair, and adorned with brooches holding the bodice in place.
“These are beautiful!” Gytha remarked, fingering the gold flowers between which were suspended two strings of beads of every conceivable color.
“Yes, they were a present from Caedmon, one of Wolf’s friends. He’s the most talented goldsmith I’ve ever met.”
He was also Haakon’s father. She remembered him telling her as much during their intimate, heartfelt conversation the other day, the only conversation they’d had when they didn’t try to outdo one another. The day he’d told her he was sorry for her loss, revealed that his parents were made for one anotherand made it sound as if he wanted the same in his life. It had surprised her, as had his compassion and willingness to expose his inner thoughts to comfort her. Up until that moment she had been convinced that his beautiful exterior masked a rather hollow interior, even if he had, admittedly, acted like a protector.
Now she wasn’t so sure.
And what did he think of her? She had gone out of her way to pretend she was as confident as he was, to provoke him, to hide her discomfort and make him believe she was not impressed by him or his assurance. Had she gone too much the other way? Did he think her a shrew? It was not impossible.
“Caedmon is very talented,” a red-haired woman called Freyja said. Gytha had been told the evening before that she was married to Eirik, the muscular Norseman. “Each of his creations are stunning.”
Yes. First and foremost, his son.
Gytha berated herself for that last observation. Really, was Haakon all she could think about? Apparently so. Last night, she had barely slept, imagining how he would look today, dressed in all his finery. Would he wear a leather tunic for the special occasion? No need, he already looked splendid in his everyday wear. Would he have trimmed his beard? Not that he needed to, it was, as she had told him the day before, perfect the way it was. Would he have?—
Stop!
With some effort, she brought her attention back to the present and the task of getting her friend ready. This was what this day was about, not what she thought of Haakon or what he thought of her. The only man she should be worried about was Halfdan and how he would love to see his beautiful bride appear.
Soon, Eadhild was ready and the women were making their way to the boulder where the rest of the village was waiting, chief among them, the groom. The way his eyes caught fire at the sightof the woman he loved caused something in Gytha’s chest to constrict. This was exactly the reaction she had hoped to see.
After leaving her friend, she took her place next to her father.
“Are you all right?” he whispered in her ear. She could only nod.
The ceremony began without further delay. Gytha watched everything with avid interest. This was very different from what she was used to, both fascinating and moving. That her dearest friend was the bride added to the emotion of the moment.
And yet…
No matter how much she tried to remain focused on the couple by the boulder, her gaze wandered over to the man standing by the ash tree to her right, He was just outside her field of vision when she looked at the couple, so by rights she shouldn’t even have seen him. But she did more than see him. She watched him every chance she got.
