Heart of a Viking Read Online Free Page A

of wilfulness in the way she had declared that. Underneath the trembling limbs beat the heart of a true princess, he suspected. She moved with regal purpose, with an elegance he’d never seen in slaves.
    He couldn’t deny he’d like to see more of that fire. What would those grey eyes be like when they sparked with anger? If she was to survive Ragni’s world, she should learn to summon it.
    “Why does he believe you bring him luck?”
    “When we crossed the sea, a storm hit. There were three ships. Only ours returned.”
    “He believes the gods favour you?” He tilted his head so he could view her.
    “I know not. Why does it matter to you?”
    “I am interested. You are interesting.”
    Her expression grew cold—or colder for it had never warmed to him. “Ragni does not like anyone being interested in me. You must not touch me. He’s a dangerous man.”
    “I did not mean in that manner.”
    “In truth?” Keita narrowed her gaze at him.
    “Your tale is interesting. I, too, am alone in this world.”
    “I heard your family died.” She reached for the jug and stood. He closed his eyes and she cupped her palm over them to protect his face as she rinsed his hair.
    “They did.”
    Except not in the manner she likely knew. There had been no wife, no child. Neinn, his time had been spent not creating a family but plotting his revenge. Time had passed by slowly but honour and luck favoured the patient man. Now Ragni’s son was grown and whispers of discontent were flourishing, the timing was right.
    “I am sorry,” she said softly.
    A hand to his shoulder urged him up and she began to work the comb through his hair. All thoughts of questions and information vanished. The tension departed too with her tender touch as she pushed the comb through the length of his hair.
    When she shifted to the side of the bath, he opened his eyes just enough to view her while she worked it through his beard. Her gentle fingers upon his skin sent a river of fire through his veins. Beneath half-closed lids, he saw those fingers going further, sinking beneath the water...
    Keita stopped touching him. And though disappointment speared through him, the heat refused to leave his body. Beneath the water, he was hard and wanting. Thorarin gritted his jaw and stood. Bringing her here had been a mistake. He would find out nothing useful and had only succeeded in frustrating himself.
    He stepped out of the bath and held out a hand for a towel. She turned, linen in hand, and dropped the towel. Her gaze landed on his cock.
    “ Nay...” she said so quietly, he barely registered the word until she’d taken several steps back.
    He never considered the movement or how it might scare her, but before she could race from the bath house and tell her master of his need for her, he snatched her arm. Her fragile body trembled beneath his palm and his damp fingers clung to the scratchy wool.
    Keita shook her head frantically and put a palm to his bare chest. She tried to push from him but such a small woman could have little effect on him. It was like an insect trying to defeat a giant. It did not stop her, though. That fire he had heard in her voice before flared in her eyes.
    “No,” she insisted. “You cannot.”
    He gripped her other arm and held her still. She wriggled so he shook her lightly to draw her attention to him. Her lips trembled and a shard of something—it was uncomfortable and achy—throbbed in his heart like a splinter.
    “I desire you,” he told her.
    “Do not.” The words were ragged while she struggled to draw in breaths.
    “Listen, Keita. I desire you. But I will not act upon it. I am not driven by my baser needs. I can control myself.” He shook her again, as if that might help the words absorb. “Listen.”
    Realisation slipped into her eyes, removing that cloud of fear. “You will not take me?”
    “Ragni says you are not to be touched. No man commands me. But I command my own needs. I have never taken an