Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
She shrieked at his contact, but once she realized it was him, she threw her arms around his neck and collapsed into him in a sobbing heap.
Erik’s first instinct was to kill Rolf. Without knowing what had happened to her, he knew Rolf had some part in it. He let her cry for a bit before he lowered his head and pressed the back of his hand to her cheek.
“Cherine, what happened?” he asked softly, he tried to get her to look at him, but her eyes were pinched shut as the tears spilled out of them.
“She’s…she’s dead!” she said between sobs, the horror and heartbreak apparent in her voice.
He ran his thumb underneath her eyes, catching her tears. “Who is dead?”
She just shook her head and leaned into him. “I don’t know… I caught him. He was with another woman. I don’t know who. But she’s dead now. He just…he just killed her right in front of my eyes!”
“Rolf?” he asked, though he knew the answer.
“Of course, Rolf,” she said, finally meeting his eyes. “Who else would do such a thing?”
Erik gave her a small but brief smile. “You know, you really should be careful saying such things about a duke.”
She gave him a wry look through her watery eyes. “He’s not a duke yet. And I know Rolf would be nothing but pleased by his reputation.”
He wanted nothing more than to scoop her up into her arms and plant kisses along her neck until she smiled again. But all the talk of Rolf being a duke reminded him that could never be an option.
“You’re correct in thinking that,” he said, straightening in order to put some distance between them. Her tears had subsided, and her breathing had returned to normal.
She frowned. “And just like that, you push me away again.”
He raised his brow at her. “I am merely reminding you of where you stand. Or, should I say, where I stand. You are Rolf’s, soon to be his duchess—at least whenever the king decides to show his merry little head. I am but a mere Viking.”
“You’re his second in command,” she pointed out. “All Rolf does is talk about you.”
He wondered how much of that was in a positive light. Did Rolf talk about Erik the Axe or Erik the Would-Be Deserter?
“What has he been saying?” he asked, taking the bait.
She smirked and wiped the sides of her face. “Oh, he says you’re a true savage, a total barbarian. He says you’re one of the worst.”
“He’s not lying,” Erik admitted. Naturally, Rolf would try and paint him in the worst light. It annoyed Erik that it bothered him, to care so much about what she thought of him. He was tempted to bring up the fact that her future husband had just brutally murdered an innocent woman in front of her, but she had finished crying, and he didn’t want to cause her anymore distress.
“He also said you wanted to sleep with me all that time, that you wanted to keep me for yourself. Was he lying?” She gazed at him, and he found his knees weak, lost in her eyes.
He rubbed at his face, debating whether to tell the truth. What did he have to lose at this point, save for his pride?
“He wasn’t,” he said gravely. “I did want you, Cherine, from the moment I first saw you. And to tell you the truth, I still do. I want you very much.” He looked away from the softness in her face and concentrated on the snowscape around him. The white flakes were drifting to the ground, light as a cloud, sticking to the ground like a fine layer of dust. They caught in Cherine’s hair, making her look like a living fairy-tale. She really did take his breath away.
He took her speechlessness as a sign to change the subject. “Now, before I embarrass myself further, how about we get you back inside and-”
“No!” she cried out. She put her hand to her lips and blushed. “My apologies. I meant to say, I’d rather not go back inside right now. Do you think…” She looked down at the snow collecting on her boots. Erik was gobsmacked. Was his dear, fiery maiden actually shy?
When she looked up again, she seemed as small and lost as ever. Erik had to fight the urge to kiss her right there, to throw her into the snow and make her flush all over.
“Do you think we could go for a walk?” she continued, her words light as air. “I just want to talk to someone. It’s been so long since I’ve really talked to anyone. With Rolf, we mainly just...well, you can imagine.”
Erik twitched at the thought but said nothing. He quickly grabbed her by her small waist and hoisted her up to his horse. She let out of squeal of delight, and he mounted up after her. It was just like when they had first rode in search of Saint Martin. That had felt like another lifetime ago.