Michelle Willingham - Forbidden Nights With A Viking

‘Will you allow me a boon?’ she said, when she caught sight of her brothers approaching.

He nodded his assent, not asking what it was. But when her hands moved to either side of his face, he guessed what she wanted. Violet eyes watched him with a longing that stole his breath away. And when she brought his face down to hers, he didn’t stop himself from kissing her back.

She was a beautiful woman, loving and warm-hearted. Yet, he knew this was a kiss goodbye.

He wasn’t prepared for the rush of heat that filled up the empty crevices of his heart. Her tongue touched his, and the kiss shifted from a farewell into a carnal response that staggered him.

Elena’s kisses had been good, but none of them had made him feel such a visceral need. He didn’t understand why Caragh’s touch affected him in such a way, but he didn’t stop it from happening. For it felt right to kiss her, to be with her.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered against his mouth, when she pulled away. ‘But after what happened this day, I needed you. Just for a moment.’

He saw the looks on the faces of her brothers. They’d seen him kissing Caragh, and Terence’s expression tightened with dissatisfaction. The rest of his men arrived on board the boat, and they, too, eyed him with suspicion.

Ronan gave the orders to pull up the anchor and untie the boat from its moorings. The men took their places at the oars and began to row, while in the distance, the fires burned through the city.

Styr continued rowing alongside the men, and Terence came to sit by him. ‘We’re taking you to your ship, Lochlannach . You’ll take your men and go.’

And leave our sister alone , were the unspoken words.

Styr said nothing but only continued to row. Caragh borrowed a cloak from her brothers and was sitting at the side of the boat.

It wasn’t long before he saw the outline of his vessel. The bronze weathervane marked it as his, and only a few of the Danes remained on board. Styr gave the order for his men to release arrows, and within moments, the ship was theirs again.

It had grown so dark, they needed torches to see clearly, but his men took their positions at the oars. Styr took the rudder and the Irishmen removed their ropes, releasing his ship.

‘Thank you for looking after our sister,’ Ronan said. ‘But we’ll take her home now.’

‘Safe journey to you,’ Styr bade them. He searched for a glimpse of Caragh, but in the darkness, he could no longer see the far side of the boat where she’d been sitting. It seemed she had already voiced her farewell, and he’d not see her again.

It was likely for the best. At the moment, he needed to get his ship out to the open sea where they could open the sails and gain speed. The night was clear, and the full moon was bright. It would take many hours to reach the place of the green island. If the moonlight illuminated the shore, it was possible that they could make camp at the site where Elena and Ragnar had disappeared.

Gods, but he was grateful to be back on board his own ship. His men began to row, using their strength to move the boat across the waves.

When Styr took his place at the side rudder, he spied a lone figure, huddled within a cloak.

And he knew.

Tearing off the cloak, he saw Caragh’s dark hair. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ His mind spun with the realisation that her brothers would think he’d stolen her. He needed to take her back, and—

‘Coming with you.’ She stood aboard the ship and reached for one of the torches. Holding it, she stood across from her brothers’ boat, lifting her hand to them. ‘And now they know that this was my choice.’

‘They’ll come after you.’

She shook her head. ‘No. I spoke with Brendan. He knew what I planned to do.’

‘Why?’ he demanded, taking the torch from her and returning it to the iron sconce. ‘You have no place with us.’

‘Don’t I?’ She regarded him steadily, taking a seat near the rudder. ‘All my life, I’ve done what others told me to do. I obeyed my parents and my brothers. I stayed at home and did what I could to take care of Brendan. I’ve never done anything that I wanted to do. Not until now.’

She lowered her voice so that only he could hear her. ‘You kissed me back.’

‘Yes.’ He offered no excuses for it, but there were none to give.

‘I just wanted to stay with you, until the end,’ she whispered.

And then, he understood. She needed to know if Elena was alive, to know whether or not he would return to his wife. But more, she wanted to know whether he felt any love for her at all.

His chest tightened, holding back the words of dishonour. Caragh’s bright spirit and her fascination with new experiences and places made it easy to enjoy her presence. Around her, he could be himself. He didn’t have to think about the way she wanted him to act or whether or not the moon was in the correct phase to have a child.

He could simply be .

‘Stay,’ he said. He refused to think of the implications, or worry about what the morning would bring if he found Elena. But the thought of finding his wife no longer brought a sense of relief or joy. It was an obligation he had to fulfil.

The thought of living with her, sensing her disappointment in his inability to give her a child…made him wary. He knew the truth of his marriage. It had reached the breaking point, and he didn’t know what he wanted any more. Elena hadn’t been happy in years.

But if he ended their union, she had another choice. She could find another man to marry, and perhaps have the baby she wanted. He didn’t have to imprison her in a marriage filled with resentment and lost hopes.

He could set both of them free. All he had to do was speak the words of divorce in the presence of witnesses.

And Thor’s blood, it tempted him. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in her scent. Wishing it was Caragh who belonged to him.

She took his hand, gazing up at the stars. ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’

He leaned in, his hand catching the hair at her nape. Without taking his eyes from her, he admitted, ‘Yes.’

He didn’t know how long they sat beside one another, but he held her hand in his, grateful for her presence.

The winds eased their travel, bringing them near to the green stone within a few hours. The fragment of rock rose up from the sea, coated in moss and grasses. the sight of it, reflected against the moonlit sea, tightened the nerves inside of Caragh. From the moment Styr saw it, he’d grown more distant, as if plagued by thoughts he wouldn’t voice. The men drew the ship in as close as they dared, and Styr carried her to the shore, never minding that his clothes grew soaked in the sea.

They made camp, building a fire and eating the food his men had brought along with them. Though she knew she ought to be tired, a restlessness heightened within Caragh. And when they made camp, Styr set up her tent far away from the others.

Away from him.

She lay inside the shelter, darkness enveloping her. When she’d dared to come with Styr, she’d not imagined what it would do to her heart. It was a physical ache to be apart from him. Right now, she wanted to lie beside him, to feel the powerful warmth of his body against hers. She needed him in a way she didn’t understand.

And when she crossed the camp of sleeping Norsemen, she entered Styr’s tent, not knowing whether or not he would let her stay.

He jerked awake at the slight sound when she moved through the opening, and she said, ‘It’s me,’ before he could draw a weapon.

Styr let out a sigh and she heard the sound of a blade slipping back within its sheath. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘I didn’t want to be alone this night,’ she admitted. ‘I just wanted to sleep beside you. If you will allow it. I needed—’