Page 31 of Lord of Fire and Ice

If she fell, she’d be dashed to pieces on the rocks. Panic froze her. She could only cling to the rigging, unable to even think what to do to help herself.

“Katla! Grab on with your other hand!” Brandr shouted down to her, leaning so far over the ledge she feared he might topple off.

His words cut through her stunned rigor. She sucked in a quick breath and heaved her other arm up. She managed to wrap her fingers around the rope and gripped it with all her might.

“Hang on.”

She didn’t think she could release her grip even if she wanted to.

Brandr pulled her up, hand over hand. When she was near enough for him to reach her wrists, he dropped to his knees and then flat on his belly. He grasped her so hard his nails bit into her flesh.

She found a toehold and pushed herself up. Brandr’s eyes were wide, his mouth drawn into a hard line. She saw herself mirrored in his darkening pupils, her face a mask of terror. He gave a mighty heave and tugged her over the rugged lip of the cliff.

He rocked on his knees and fell backward, dragging her body on top of his. His arms clamped tight around her, as if he’d never let go, and together, they rolled away from the cliff’s edge onto a bed of spongy moss and salt grass.

Both of them panted for breath. Katla could feel his heart galloping beneath hers. She tried to control the shiver of delayed terror that wracked her body but couldn’t quite manage it. Brandr stroked her hair and down her back, his touch gentle and full of comfort.

“Oh gods, Katla,” he said, when the worst of her trembling stopped. He cradled the back of her head in his palm, pressing her cheek to his. “I thought I’d lost you.”

She’d thought so too, for a moment.

While she dangled over the precipice, the Great Dark had loomed before her, a daunting and unknown place. She knew all the stories of Valhalla. She’d heard skalds weave the tales of Freya’s hall for unhappy lovers, and how they lived in the land beyond death, reveling in the bliss Fate had denied them here. She’d even listened politely while visiting priests described the Christians’ blissful heaven and their fiery hell.

Who was to say what really bided on the other side of that dark portal?

Her body hummed with life. And a new awareness of just how close Brandr was pressed against her.

Katla looked down at the man who had saved her life. She’d enthralled him, and yet he hadn’t let her drop to her death. Then she said the two words she’d promised herself she’d never say.

“Kiss me.”

Chapter 11

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Brandr captured her face, palms on her cheeks, and slowly brought her mouth to his. Her soft lips molded to his, fitting together so perfectly there was no space, no break in the seal between them.

He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, tasting her. She was sweet, a sip of nectar. Succulent, juicy, and moist as the exotic pomegranate he’d tried in the South. Salty, a chilling reminder of the sea and the jagged rocks she had narrowly escaped.

When her lips parted, he drank more deeply of her, determined to push aside all thought of those horrible things that might have been. His tongue sought hers with feverish desperation.

Without breaking their kiss, he rolled so they lay side by side. He hitched a leg over hers, keeping her close, claiming her. Her eyes were shut, but Brandr kept his open so he could watch her.

So he wouldn’t lose her.

Her dark lashes were silky crescents on her cheeks. Her brows drew together in longing.

Her lips parted wider, and she sucked the breath from his body. Then she refilled him with her own. Brandr was used to taking the lead with a woman, but Katla seemed to want to wrestle him for control, even now.

He wasn’t the least surprised. She wouldn’t be Katla otherwise.

She kissed him fiercely, as if it were the last thing she’d ever do.

Or maybe the first thing.

A brush with death made a body feel reborn. He’d stared down that cold specter a few times himself and recognized the vibrant rush of lust that followed. He heard his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, felt Katla’s throbbing against his chest. The echoing rhythm of blood surged in his stiff cock.

Katla pressed herself against him, rocking her pelvis. She felt it too—the drumbeat of life pulsing between them. She groaned into his mouth.