Ravished by a Viking Read Online Free Page B

that on a clear day could be seen for hundreds of leagues.
    Dagr gritted his teeth. His back ached from the unnatural position he’d had to assume, standing in the steering harness with the warrior-woman plastered to his back.
    Still, the discomfort had been worth it to hear Birget’s soft gasps when the serpents caught the sound of the skiff racing across the ice and circled beneath the boat’s small hull.
    Her arms had tightened like iron bands around his neck and her thighs had climbed to cling to his waist. When he’d finally shaken off the beasts with a series of jagged tacks, she’d lowered her legs instantly and kept a respectable distance ever since—if cloaking his backside against the elements wasn’t intimate enough.
    From the first moment he’d seen her, Dagr had admired her grit. He’d swept her with an assessing glance when he’d realized who she was and had tightened against an unexpected attraction. She was promised to Eirik, and he had no desire to take a Bearshirt woman for his own wife. He already supported two females in his household—self-sufficient women who understood their place and didn’t require too much of his attention. The heat stirring in his loins would be remedied quite nicely once he returned to Tora and Astrid’s warm embraces.
    As clan-lord, his days were full. Adding another woman to his household would provide an unnecessary distraction.
    Eirik, the stupid bastard, had assumed his bride would be broad and mannish, and had complained she’d have a mustache thicker than he could grow because he’d heard she was Valkyrja . While a couple of the female guards did indeed have shoulders a miner would envy, Sigmund’s two daughters were handsome women, tall and slender with long blond hair and eyes the same color as the leafy greens Tora coaxed from the gardens flourishing beneath the permafrost.
    Eirik, if he ever returned, would have no complaints concerning the appearance of his mate. Although, knowing his brother, the woman’s stubborn belief that she was a warrior’s equal would cause them conflict. Neither Eirik nor Dagr would stand for any member of the fairer sex putting herself at risk. No woman of the Ulfhednar clan had ever raised a sword to defend herself. There had never been a need.
    He pushed aside thoughts of his brother. In the first hours after Eirik’s abduction, Dagr had driven himself mad thinking of the torture his brother must be enduring while he’d made the solitary trip to the Berserkir keep. Having company, even this surly woman, did much to keep his mind focused on the here and now.
    The skiff bumped to a halt on the shore. Harald, the camp overseer, strode through the swirling snow to pull the prow forward, catching the rope Dagr sailed his way and tying it to an iron spike stuck into the frozen ground for just that purpose.
    When Harald’s hand closed around Dagr’s wrist to help him from the boat, there was worry in his eyes.
    Dagr knew well the man’s emotion—one he currently shared. “You could not have known, Harald. Have no fears that I’m here for reprisal. I only want to hear firsthand what you know and to see what you’ve uncovered.”
    Harald’s gaze slid away. “I am ashamed that such a breach occurred beneath my nose, milord.”
    “The breach wasn’t one you could have prevented. Did you question the other Outlanders in your service about the woman?”
    Harald nodded. “None knew the girl. She arrived with the last supply shipment and kept to herself. Yet she was eager enough when she learned Eirik would be in need of ‘comfort.’ ”
    Frustrated, Dagr blew out a deep breath. “Let’s continue our conversation inside in warmth.”
    Harald’s eyebrows rose. No doubt, he wondered at Dagr’s admission of the foul weather until his gaze drifted beyond his clan-lord’s shoulder.
    Dagr turned toward Birget and jerked his head. “Sigmund’s daughter,” he said, keeping his introduction purposely short and rude.
    “Your