Sonja, wanting to alleviate any concerns the girl might have after their last encounter. “Greetings, Sonja,” she said in her own language, kissing the girl’s cheek. “I’m happy to see you again.”
She turned to Torstein who looked like he wanted to disappear. “You remember Torstein, I’m sure.”
If she had any doubts these two young people were attracted to each other, they fled at the sight of their discomfort.
“Torstein,” Sonja murmured.
“Sonja,” he rasped in reply.
Torstein wasn’t used to making choices and decisions. He desperately wanted to stay and gaze upon Sonja’s beautiful face, inhale her delicate scent, coax her full lips open with his tongue, cup her extraordinary breasts, press his shaft to her mons—
At the same time a desire to flee seized him, rooting his feet to the planked flooring. Was she aware now that he was a freed thrall? Puella had probably told her mistress. A woman like Sonja, refined, educated, and from a wealthy family, would feel revulsion for a former slave. Dread knotted his gut at the prospect of the woman he loved despising him.
Olga made the decision for him. “Be gone, young man. We are women here. Nothing of interest for you.”
He doubted Olga was aware of his past. She wouldn’t have allowed him to enter the house. A glimmer of hope flickered.
If Sonja knew, but hadn’t told her mother—
He bowed and took his leave.
Sonja longed for Torstein to stay, but was relieved when he left the house. She wanted to tell him of her regret for the harsh words she’d spoken at their last meeting. Her feelings confused her. She had been brought up to treat thralls as less than human, yet her dreams were filled with Torstein’s face, his voice, his body.
She had never been drawn to men; they were sweaty, boorish and lustful. But Torstein was different. Thinking of him produced feelings and sensations in her body she’d never known, stoking fiery needs.
She studied Cathryn who was making a stalwart effort to engage Ingeborg in conversation, responding with charm and grace to Olga’s ongoing barrage of compliments and questions about her husband, her baby and then Rollo.
Torstein’s former status in life was evidently of no concern to Bryk Kriger’s wife.
Magnus smiled a toothless grin while Olga clucked over him. Ida fussed and fretted in her mother’s arms, but calmed as soon as Cathryn took hold of her.
Sonja deemed it ironic the only person in the room with whom she could have an intelligent conversation was a Frank. The woman’s praise of her attempts to speak the Frankish tongue pleased her, though it produced a pout on her sister’s face.
But her attention was elsewhere. If only there was an opportunity to speak with Torstein. She doubted her mother and Ingeborg would realize she was gone if she left the gathering surreptitiously. But it would be an insult to their guest.
Servants entered quietly with platters of food. Olga gave Magnus over to a flustered Ingeborg and started issuing orders.
“Go to him,” Cathryn suddenly whispered in Sonja’s ear, bouncing Ida on her hip.
Hope and duty clashed. “But I cannot leave,” she whispered back. “You are my guest.”
Cathryn gestured discretely to the door. “Go! You have only a brief time.”
Sonja took advantage of her mother’s inattention and slipped outside. She didn’t see Torstein until she rounded the corner of the house. He stopped pacing when he caught sight of her. They stared at each other for long minutes. Her heart leapt into her throat when he made a move in her direction.
KISS OF LIFE
Torstein was astonished Sonja had ventured in search of him. Her willingness to risk much gave him courage to take hold of her trembling hands. “You’re cold,” he said with a smile.
“You can warm me,” she replied huskily, her eyelids half hooded.
Her sultry voice freed him of his fear she might reject him. “You know of my past, yet still came to me.”
She nodded,
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