Read Online The Temperate Warrior by Renee Vincent - Free Book Online
Authors: Renee Vincent
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while ye were gone,” he said as he stood. “Am I to assume ye will not be coming back?”
Gustaf heard the disenchantment in his friend’s voice. He didn’t like good-byes any more than the next, but once he returned his men to their families and stepped foot on Inis Mór soil, he wouldn’t be leaving his family ever again. He embraced Diðrik, patting him soundly. “May Odin keep his watchful eye over you.”
“’Twill take more than one god’s eye to keep me under close watch.”
Gustaf laughed and turned to leave. “Farewell, old friend.”
Stepping out into the pitch of night, Gustaf gazed into the darkness. The air was still and the isle silently peaceful, save for the insects who chirped about on the ground. He waited, half expecting to be assaulted by the men he’d asked about. To his relief, he stood unharmed. Perhaps ignored. Maybe they chose to just watch him. Or maybe he was out of his damn mind.
Scolding himself for letting his paranoia compete with his good sense, he released his grip on the sword and journeyed up the hill to the one place he felt sane—Æsa’s arms.
****
Æsa opened her eyes and saw Gustaf tiptoeing between the sleeping bodies of his men lying scattered about the matted floor around the hearth. She watched him add a few more logs of peat to the fire, hoping he’d join her in the warmth of her bed.
He looked powerful and haughty as he stood in the golden glow of the flames, the shadow of his dark beard framing an equally strong jaw. She noticed that he now sported his sword at his hip and wondered if he chose to wear it out of necessity or because he simply felt naked without it. He’d proclaimed his days of wielding such a weapon were over, that he was at peace.
His eyes, dark and brooding, said differently.
“What troubles you, m’lord?” she whispered.
He quickly averted his gaze toward her and smiled. “I thought you were asleep. Did I wake you?”
“Nay, I was waiting for you. Come to bed.”
Gustaf quietly padded toward her, unbuckling his belt in the process. After removing his weapon, he kicked off his boots and slipped beneath the hides, pulling her close. She relished the feel of pure strength in his arms and the natural male warmth he brought against her back as she snuggled in tight against him.
Knowing there were others close by, she lay disappointed that she would not get the chance to feel his naked body as they slept. For weeks, she’d thought about it, dreamed about it. She’d gotten a brief moment of glorious sleep this afternoon, wrapped in a firm swaddle of hot skin and muscle, but it came to a swift end when she’d heard his men return from their fishing expedition.
She smiled, recalling how soundly he slept, his arms and legs like dead weights as she fought to slip from underneath them. It was as if it were the first time he could allow himself to fall into a deep sleep. She wondered what afflictions this man endured as he spent so much of his adult years avenging his father in secret, lying awake night after night, wary of someone finding him and thwarting his life’s mission.
“Are you going to tell me what troubles you, or do I have to ask Jørgen and Snorri who are outside taking first watch?”
“How do you know they are not taking a piss?”
“That is quite a long piss, m’lord.”
Gustaf’s deep chuckle rumbled against her back. “So ‘tis,” he said, heaving his heavy leg over hers and kissing her shoulder. “Fret not, my dearest Æsa. ’Tis only to safeguard you.”
“From whom?”
“No one in particular. Now, close your eyes.”
“Am I so important that two men must lose their sleep?”
“If I so deem it, aye.”
She spun around in his arms and caught his gaze, his brow hitching up in wonder. “Do your men always do as you say?”
“Without fail. Unlike someone I know who cannot follow a simple command.” He flashed a stern look as if trying to redeem his authority over her.
She glanced at the
Gustaf heard the disenchantment in his friend’s voice. He didn’t like good-byes any more than the next, but once he returned his men to their families and stepped foot on Inis Mór soil, he wouldn’t be leaving his family ever again. He embraced Diðrik, patting him soundly. “May Odin keep his watchful eye over you.”
“’Twill take more than one god’s eye to keep me under close watch.”
Gustaf laughed and turned to leave. “Farewell, old friend.”
Stepping out into the pitch of night, Gustaf gazed into the darkness. The air was still and the isle silently peaceful, save for the insects who chirped about on the ground. He waited, half expecting to be assaulted by the men he’d asked about. To his relief, he stood unharmed. Perhaps ignored. Maybe they chose to just watch him. Or maybe he was out of his damn mind.
Scolding himself for letting his paranoia compete with his good sense, he released his grip on the sword and journeyed up the hill to the one place he felt sane—Æsa’s arms.
****
Æsa opened her eyes and saw Gustaf tiptoeing between the sleeping bodies of his men lying scattered about the matted floor around the hearth. She watched him add a few more logs of peat to the fire, hoping he’d join her in the warmth of her bed.
He looked powerful and haughty as he stood in the golden glow of the flames, the shadow of his dark beard framing an equally strong jaw. She noticed that he now sported his sword at his hip and wondered if he chose to wear it out of necessity or because he simply felt naked without it. He’d proclaimed his days of wielding such a weapon were over, that he was at peace.
His eyes, dark and brooding, said differently.
“What troubles you, m’lord?” she whispered.
He quickly averted his gaze toward her and smiled. “I thought you were asleep. Did I wake you?”
“Nay, I was waiting for you. Come to bed.”
Gustaf quietly padded toward her, unbuckling his belt in the process. After removing his weapon, he kicked off his boots and slipped beneath the hides, pulling her close. She relished the feel of pure strength in his arms and the natural male warmth he brought against her back as she snuggled in tight against him.
Knowing there were others close by, she lay disappointed that she would not get the chance to feel his naked body as they slept. For weeks, she’d thought about it, dreamed about it. She’d gotten a brief moment of glorious sleep this afternoon, wrapped in a firm swaddle of hot skin and muscle, but it came to a swift end when she’d heard his men return from their fishing expedition.
She smiled, recalling how soundly he slept, his arms and legs like dead weights as she fought to slip from underneath them. It was as if it were the first time he could allow himself to fall into a deep sleep. She wondered what afflictions this man endured as he spent so much of his adult years avenging his father in secret, lying awake night after night, wary of someone finding him and thwarting his life’s mission.
“Are you going to tell me what troubles you, or do I have to ask Jørgen and Snorri who are outside taking first watch?”
“How do you know they are not taking a piss?”
“That is quite a long piss, m’lord.”
Gustaf’s deep chuckle rumbled against her back. “So ‘tis,” he said, heaving his heavy leg over hers and kissing her shoulder. “Fret not, my dearest Æsa. ’Tis only to safeguard you.”
“From whom?”
“No one in particular. Now, close your eyes.”
“Am I so important that two men must lose their sleep?”
“If I so deem it, aye.”
She spun around in his arms and caught his gaze, his brow hitching up in wonder. “Do your men always do as you say?”
“Without fail. Unlike someone I know who cannot follow a simple command.” He flashed a stern look as if trying to redeem his authority over her.
She glanced at the
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