The Temperate Warrior Read Online Free

malcontent that continued to crease his brow. To a degree, she’d insulted him. “If I have not angered you, then I have made you feel less of a man in front of your warriors.”
    Gustaf’s hearty scoff caused her to turn her head in his direction. “Is that what you think?” he asked, drawing near.
    The twinkle of gaiety lighting his blue eyes held her mouth shut. She froze within her thin leather shoes, stiffening over the proximity of his body with hers. He reached for her wrist and pulled her into his arms. “Only if you were gone from this earth, would I be less of a man.”
    His tender words took her by surprise. They were heartfelt and sincere, quite different from the clipped statements he’d made a few moments before. She was not used to a man’s mood swinging from one extreme to the next like a pendulum. It was difficult to keep up.
    He playfully nipped at her nose and backed her against the vertical beam of the room. Sandwiched between the dense face of the wood and the solid wall of his chest, she valued the dominance of his character. With just a simple gesture, he expressed authority and power, by means of a mighty body and challenging eyes, yet behind all that brawny exterior lay a man as gentle as the tender reeds swaying along the marshes.
    She placed her hands on his barrel chest and stroked him around his shoulders, lacing her fingers behind his neck. “I have missed you, my temperate warrior.”
    He closed his eyes and laid his forehead against hers. “You do realize your pet name does little to describe the fierceness I would rather be remembered for.”
    She rubbed noses with him and reveled in the feel of his body pressed against hers. “Far be it from me to deface your fierce reputation among men, but ‘tis not violent hostility I remember in these hands…” She touched each part of him with a delicate brush of her fingertips. “These eyes, these lips...”
    His lips found hers the moment she spoke of them. The soft wet heat of his mouth had her gasping in surprise and buckling at the knees. With his arms secured around her, he never let her hit the floor as he slipped his tongue past her teeth. Feathers of warmth fanned from her core, spreading throughout her body. She was helpless to the talents of his kiss and welcomed the expertise of his seductive hands caressing her.
    Pinned against the beam, he ground himself against her, his breathing slow and purposeful. She tightened her arms around his neck and hoisted her legs around his waist. His strong, large hands cupped her bottom as he positioned her over his thick erection.
    A hearty moan escaped him and he shuddered, as if a multitude of sensations wracked his body. He spun her from the beam and supported her in his arms, his eyes boring into hers.
    “I should build that fire I promised before I lose all might for such a simple task.”
    He allowed her body to slide ever so slowly down the length of him, setting her to her feet. She brushed her hands down her tunic, adjusting her clothes into place, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Words failed her as she watched him tent the logs of turf in the center hearth. There was so much she wanted to say, but had no idea where to begin. She assumed he and his men had completed their mission, avenging Gustaf’s father, else they would not have returned. But it was a subject which lacked a tactful introduction.
    Still, curiosity tapped its grating rhythm upon her brain.
    Aside from wondering if Gunnar Havlocksen had met his fate, she also pondered why Gustaf had not left her behind. He had gone to save his family, promising to come back for her when all was well. Yet, now that he’d arrived, she couldn’t help but think conceivably it wasn’t for love, but for duty.
    Given the years he’d spent and the lengths to which he’d gone to avenge his father, there was no denying how devoted he could be to a cause. If Gustaf said it would be done, he’d keep his word or die trying.