Read Online Viking: Legends of the North: A Limited Edition Boxed Set by Tanya Anne Crosby, Miriam Minger, Shelly Thacker, Glynnis Campbell - Free Book Online Page B
Tags: Historical Romance
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confining linen underdress and wore only her sleeveless kirtle, which gave her a greater range of motion and revealed the blue design on her shoulder and her sleek-muscled arms. Riding low on her hips was a leather swordbelt carved with intricate designs. She’d tucked the kirtle back up under the belt so that it bloused halfway down her thighs, exposing a pair of long, lovely legs that were tucked into short seal-fur boots.
If he’d thought the sight of the woman in her nightclothes was alluring, it didn’t compare to the vision of her dressed for battle. Perhaps that was the secret of Pict warfare. What foe could fight such a distracting beauty?
“Watch me! Watch me!” the little girl was yelling as she leaped about. It took all of Brandr’s willpower to drag his gaze away from the lass’s breathtaking mother.
“Kimbery, not in the house,” she scolded.
“But I want Da to see me.”
“We’ll leave the door open.” She gave him a look then that said the door would be open, not so he could watch the little girl, but so she could keep an eye on him .
Which was fine with him. After spending the night on a leash with a throbbing broken arm and waking to a stinking sheep nuzzling at his ear, he figured he deserved the reward of watching a woman cavort about half-naked.
What began as a pleasurable pastime quickly turned into torment. It had been more than a year since Brandr had bedded a woman, and his body responded as eagerly as a starving man seated at a feast. As the woman flexed and lunged in preparation for sparring, she unknowingly taunted him with her taut, slender arms and her silky thighs. Her garment clung to her body, hugging every subtle curve. Each time she twirled to change direction, her skirt flipped up, and he couldn’t help but watch for a glimpse of something more.
She hunkered down beside her daughter, giving her instruction, and his gaze slipped over her rounded knees. She wrapped her arms around Kimbery, showing her how to hold the sword, and he observed the nuanced play of the muscles of her shoulder. She stood, planting her feet wide apart, and he admired her shapely calves.
“Can you see me?” Kimbery called out to him.
He gave a guilty start. “Aye,” he croaked. The truth was he’d scarcely given her a glance, so transfixed by her mother was he.
“Pay heed, Kimbery,” the woman warned. “Don’t get distracted.”
The little girl began hacking away at her mother with her wooden sword, and the woman easily defended herself, coming around slowly and carefully with her own steel blade. He’d never seen a woman wielding a sword before, and her skill surprised him. He wondered how good she was when she wasn’t checking her blows.
Of course, she was no match for a Viking. But it was admirable that she was teaching her daughter useful fighting techniques. It would keep the little girl from becoming easy prey.
He continued to watch as she demonstrated proper shield technique, showed Kimbery how to dodge blows, and the two of them practiced diving to the ground, rolling, and coming up with blades at the ready.
As they sparred, tendrils of the woman’s hair came loose from her long braid. Her cheeks grew rosy, her skin glowed, and her chest heaved with each exertion. She reminded him of the women he’d pleasured in his bed when he was a single, virile, carefree young man. He suddenly longed to snatch away her sword, carry her off, toss up her skirts, and ease his desires upon her battle-warmed body. And this troubled him deeply.
Avril found it difficult to concentrate when the Northman was staring at her. She didn’t return his stare, but she could feel his eyes upon her. She’d left the door open for more than one reason. Aye, she wanted to keep an eye on him—she was fairly sure he’d already made an attempt to escape—but she also wanted him to see that she was no ordinary frail lass. She could hold her own with a sword. And he’d have a fight on his hands if he
If he’d thought the sight of the woman in her nightclothes was alluring, it didn’t compare to the vision of her dressed for battle. Perhaps that was the secret of Pict warfare. What foe could fight such a distracting beauty?
“Watch me! Watch me!” the little girl was yelling as she leaped about. It took all of Brandr’s willpower to drag his gaze away from the lass’s breathtaking mother.
“Kimbery, not in the house,” she scolded.
“But I want Da to see me.”
“We’ll leave the door open.” She gave him a look then that said the door would be open, not so he could watch the little girl, but so she could keep an eye on him .
Which was fine with him. After spending the night on a leash with a throbbing broken arm and waking to a stinking sheep nuzzling at his ear, he figured he deserved the reward of watching a woman cavort about half-naked.
What began as a pleasurable pastime quickly turned into torment. It had been more than a year since Brandr had bedded a woman, and his body responded as eagerly as a starving man seated at a feast. As the woman flexed and lunged in preparation for sparring, she unknowingly taunted him with her taut, slender arms and her silky thighs. Her garment clung to her body, hugging every subtle curve. Each time she twirled to change direction, her skirt flipped up, and he couldn’t help but watch for a glimpse of something more.
She hunkered down beside her daughter, giving her instruction, and his gaze slipped over her rounded knees. She wrapped her arms around Kimbery, showing her how to hold the sword, and he observed the nuanced play of the muscles of her shoulder. She stood, planting her feet wide apart, and he admired her shapely calves.
“Can you see me?” Kimbery called out to him.
He gave a guilty start. “Aye,” he croaked. The truth was he’d scarcely given her a glance, so transfixed by her mother was he.
“Pay heed, Kimbery,” the woman warned. “Don’t get distracted.”
The little girl began hacking away at her mother with her wooden sword, and the woman easily defended herself, coming around slowly and carefully with her own steel blade. He’d never seen a woman wielding a sword before, and her skill surprised him. He wondered how good she was when she wasn’t checking her blows.
Of course, she was no match for a Viking. But it was admirable that she was teaching her daughter useful fighting techniques. It would keep the little girl from becoming easy prey.
He continued to watch as she demonstrated proper shield technique, showed Kimbery how to dodge blows, and the two of them practiced diving to the ground, rolling, and coming up with blades at the ready.
As they sparred, tendrils of the woman’s hair came loose from her long braid. Her cheeks grew rosy, her skin glowed, and her chest heaved with each exertion. She reminded him of the women he’d pleasured in his bed when he was a single, virile, carefree young man. He suddenly longed to snatch away her sword, carry her off, toss up her skirts, and ease his desires upon her battle-warmed body. And this troubled him deeply.
Avril found it difficult to concentrate when the Northman was staring at her. She didn’t return his stare, but she could feel his eyes upon her. She’d left the door open for more than one reason. Aye, she wanted to keep an eye on him—she was fairly sure he’d already made an attempt to escape—but she also wanted him to see that she was no ordinary frail lass. She could hold her own with a sword. And he’d have a fight on his hands if he
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