Read Online The Pagan's Prize by Miriam Minger - Free Book Online

child's, a becoming dimple
in each cheek.
    For a fleeting moment, Rurik could not remember why he
had come to the tent. She made such a fetching picture with her wild tousled
hair, hanging almost to her waist, framing her face, the oversize wool tunic
she wore fallen from one delicately boned shoulder to reveal the soft curve of
a breast. Only the sharp scraping of oars outside focused his attention back to
his purpose. Cursing himself, he laid the trousers beside her.
    "I brought these for you. Stand up and I'll help
you put them on."
    Without a word she obeyed him and rose, catching his
arm to steady herself when the boat suddenly swayed beneath their feet, the
waves grown choppy in the stiff wind whistling past the tent. Her unexpected
touch sent a charge racing through him like wildfire. Rurik clenched his teeth,
warning himself to move fast with what needed to be done. Standing so close to
this golden goddess was proving too much of a temptation.
    "Lean on my shoulder." While she did, Rurik
bent down and slipped first one trouser leg and then the other past her feet.
He drew the garment quickly up to her waist beneath her borrowed tunic so that
he had little time to focus upon the enticing curve of calf and thigh. Grabbing
the rope belt, he secured it around her and then he turned her so she faced
away from him.
    "I'm going to wrap this sash around your breasts,"
he told her, bringing the piece of cloth up under her tunic. "Let me know
if I tie it too tightly."
    Rurik swallowed hard as his knuckles grazed firmly
rounded flesh, and he must have startled her, for she gasped and stepped
backward. Instinctively, his arms closed around her and for an instant he
reveled in the arousing sensation of her slim body pressed against him.
    Surprisingly, she did not pull away but leaned even
closer, her bottom rubbing against the hard bulge his flesh had become. With
supreme effort he pushed her away, concentrating again on tying the sash. Last,
he gathered to one side the extra folds at the neckline of her tunic and fastened
them with a plain metal cloak-pin. Her disguise would be for naught if the
tunic slipped again from her shoulders.
    "It's safer for all of us if you're dressed as a
male slave," Rurik explained as he turned her to face him, although she
didn't seem the least interested in her garb. "We're very near your new
home . . . and your master. Soon you'll be with him again."
    She looked at him silently, her tantalizing lips
forming no response. Rurik wondered if perhaps he should try Arne's remedy. There must be something he could do to
shatter the queer spell that gripped her, something that would draw forth her
master's name. By the gods, he wasn't one to use brute force against a woman,
but in this case . . .
    "My lord, we're nearing the city wharf!" came
Leif's voice just beyond the tent.
    Deciding to wait until they had found their next few
nights lodging before attempting a drastic measure that could bring on a noisy
flood of tears, Rurik surveyed his handiwork and deemed the woman's attire
passable. She made a pretty lad, but with her breasts flattened beneath the
sash and baggy clothes, he doubted any would question her sex. Yet he had to do
something about her hair, although the thought of cutting those magnificent
tresses did not set well with him. He had never seen their like before.
    "Could you braid your hair for me, wench?"
Wielding a sword was far more suited to his large hands than such a task.
    Rurik was gratified when she twisted her hair into a
thick braid as deftly as if she had done so a thousand times. "Like this?"
    He was stunned by her soft query, the first question
she had posed to him for three days. Despite himself, he reached out and
touched the heavy braid, admiring its silkiness and wondering if she sought to
please her master as readily as she had just done for him. He imagined, as a
concubine, that she must know many ways to please a man . . .
    His imagination firing at the thought, a