Read Online Walpurgis Night by Katherine Kingston - Free Book Online
Authors: Katherine Kingston
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cure.”
Pain lanced through her when she saw the way he looked at his brother. The anguish in his face cut into her own heart. Clearly there was more here than just his wanting Ranulf to recover so he could go his own way. He cared desperately for this man he hadn’t seen for so long. She wished there were something she could say or do to ease him.
She stood up, moved closer to him and put a hand on his arm. When he turned toward her, she leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her head rested against his chest.
For a moment he just stood there, tense and unmoving. Then he sighed deeply, relaxing a bit out of his stiffness and put his arms around her to hold her to him. His breath was ragged and uneven.
Her first reaction was a wave of tenderness that he trusted her enough to reveal even this much of his pain and let her share it with him. But then, wrapped in his arms, tight against his body, a powerful tide of longing for more complete union suddenly surged through her, making her shake. Would it always be thus with this man? His mere touch sent ripples of awareness, like sparks snapping against her, all over her skin. Once he was gone from her life, would she continue to long for the sound of his voice, the way he looked at her?
He tipped back her head and kissed her, deeply, tenderly, hungrily, until her knees were unsteady and all she wanted was to rip off clothes and impale herself on him. Would her body ever forget how he made the heat spread wildly through her, the way the pressure gathered in her loins when he held her?
Footsteps sounded from the other room, coming toward them. He released her when she moved back away.
The older man who’d been in the other room when they’d arrived the previous day pushed the curtain aside and peered in. Henrik said something to him in Norse and the man entered. His gaze focused on Ranulf . When he noted he was no better, the older man’s shoulders slumped and his body tensed up. The questioning expression on his face turned to something harder and less readable, keeping his feelings shut inside.
He and Henrik exchanged words and glanced occasionally toward her. While they talked, Fianna turned to the brazier and removed the small pot holding the boiling mixture to a clay plate set nearby for the purpose.
“ Fianna ?”
She turned to face Henrik .
“My father would like to make himself known to you and thank you for your care of Ranulf .”
The older man nodded and came toward her, took her hand and struggled to say her name, “Fee-ah- na .”
She nodded and bowed her head, giving him the respect due his age.
He said something more to her in Norse.
“My father is Hjallmar , and he thanks you again for coming to care for his son,” Henrik translated. “He also wishes me to convey his apologies for my rude treatment of you yesterday.”
“Tell him there’s naught to be concerned about,” Fianna asked. “I understand you were unhappy and worried about your brother and so acted in a way not normal for you.”
She shot a glance at Henrik . “It was not normal, was it?”
He shrugged. “I am not very trusting of strangers.”
“Except when she solicits you for a night of sex?”
“Perhaps especially so then.”
“You didn’t act like you were suspicious of me then.”
“You may not have noticed how careful I was. Until I had you helpless in the throes of a need as strong as mine.”
Henrik’s father broke the tension building between them when he asked a question in Norse. He and Henrik spoke back and forth for a few minutes.
“He wants to know if there’s aught he can do to help?” Henrik translated.
Fianna was about to say no when she had a thought. “Tell him it might help if he would sit with Ranulf for a while and speak to him of how much he wants him to get better. Though it seems not so, Ranulf might be able to hear and understand, and it might serve to draw him back and encourage him to fight harder to
Pain lanced through her when she saw the way he looked at his brother. The anguish in his face cut into her own heart. Clearly there was more here than just his wanting Ranulf to recover so he could go his own way. He cared desperately for this man he hadn’t seen for so long. She wished there were something she could say or do to ease him.
She stood up, moved closer to him and put a hand on his arm. When he turned toward her, she leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her head rested against his chest.
For a moment he just stood there, tense and unmoving. Then he sighed deeply, relaxing a bit out of his stiffness and put his arms around her to hold her to him. His breath was ragged and uneven.
Her first reaction was a wave of tenderness that he trusted her enough to reveal even this much of his pain and let her share it with him. But then, wrapped in his arms, tight against his body, a powerful tide of longing for more complete union suddenly surged through her, making her shake. Would it always be thus with this man? His mere touch sent ripples of awareness, like sparks snapping against her, all over her skin. Once he was gone from her life, would she continue to long for the sound of his voice, the way he looked at her?
He tipped back her head and kissed her, deeply, tenderly, hungrily, until her knees were unsteady and all she wanted was to rip off clothes and impale herself on him. Would her body ever forget how he made the heat spread wildly through her, the way the pressure gathered in her loins when he held her?
Footsteps sounded from the other room, coming toward them. He released her when she moved back away.
The older man who’d been in the other room when they’d arrived the previous day pushed the curtain aside and peered in. Henrik said something to him in Norse and the man entered. His gaze focused on Ranulf . When he noted he was no better, the older man’s shoulders slumped and his body tensed up. The questioning expression on his face turned to something harder and less readable, keeping his feelings shut inside.
He and Henrik exchanged words and glanced occasionally toward her. While they talked, Fianna turned to the brazier and removed the small pot holding the boiling mixture to a clay plate set nearby for the purpose.
“ Fianna ?”
She turned to face Henrik .
“My father would like to make himself known to you and thank you for your care of Ranulf .”
The older man nodded and came toward her, took her hand and struggled to say her name, “Fee-ah- na .”
She nodded and bowed her head, giving him the respect due his age.
He said something more to her in Norse.
“My father is Hjallmar , and he thanks you again for coming to care for his son,” Henrik translated. “He also wishes me to convey his apologies for my rude treatment of you yesterday.”
“Tell him there’s naught to be concerned about,” Fianna asked. “I understand you were unhappy and worried about your brother and so acted in a way not normal for you.”
She shot a glance at Henrik . “It was not normal, was it?”
He shrugged. “I am not very trusting of strangers.”
“Except when she solicits you for a night of sex?”
“Perhaps especially so then.”
“You didn’t act like you were suspicious of me then.”
“You may not have noticed how careful I was. Until I had you helpless in the throes of a need as strong as mine.”
Henrik’s father broke the tension building between them when he asked a question in Norse. He and Henrik spoke back and forth for a few minutes.
“He wants to know if there’s aught he can do to help?” Henrik translated.
Fianna was about to say no when she had a thought. “Tell him it might help if he would sit with Ranulf for a while and speak to him of how much he wants him to get better. Though it seems not so, Ranulf might be able to hear and understand, and it might serve to draw him back and encourage him to fight harder to
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