Twin Passions (31 page)

"I planned to be outside for only a few moments,"
she replied. "I did not see any harm in going alone." She continued,
relating her story, while Hakon listened grimly. He did not say another word
until she had finished.

The thought of Rhoar's hands roaming at will over her
body, his mouth upon hers . . . kissing her . . . ravaging what belonged to
him, filled Hakon with jealous rage. He had come so close to losing her. Surely
Rhoar would have raped her before the night was through,
then
possibly might even have killed her as another act of his blood vengeance. Yea,
if that had happened, a part of him would have died with her. Hakon knew he
could no longer deny to himself how much she meant to him.

"I heard you speak of sailing on the morrow,"
Gwendolyn said softly. "Does this have aught to do with the bonfires Olav
mentioned in the great hall? I saw them myself, burning brightly atop the
mountains."

"Yea, my love. In the morn I must sail for
Trondheim, to the north. The bonfires are a summons by my liege lord, the Jarl
of Lade. It is a signal for all the Jarls under his rule to gather at his
estate, and I am one of them. It must be a matter of great importance, for
travel at this time of year is treacherous at best."

Hakon sighed deeply. The Jarl's signal could not have
come at a more inopportune time. Yet he had already made provisions so that the
settlement would be well protected while he was gone. As soon as he had seen
the bonfires, messengers had been sent out, seeking reinforcements from many of
the petty chieftains under his own rule. The added strength would be needed,
especially now that he knew Rhoar's threat of revenge was close at hand. It
would serve to hold his bastard brother at bay, discouraging an attack until he
could return. But when that would be, he did not know. He only hoped it would
not be too long.

"Shall I accompany you, my lord?" Gwendolyn
did not know why she asked, but it seemed natural that she would go with him.

"Nay, I cannot take you with me, Anora. The rough
winter seas are a trial for even the most seasoned crew, and I will not subject
you to such a dangerous voyage. You will be well protected here, and far safer,
despite Rhoar's threat. There will be twice as many men here to guard the
settlement until I return. I shall have only enough men to row my longship, and
Garric will accompany me to serve as my page at the Jarl's court."

He paused, noticing that Gwendolyn had stiffened in his
arms. He drew her closer. "Do not fear, little one," he murmured. "Would
that I might remain here with you, but I cannot. It is my duty to answer the
Jarl's summons. As for Rhoar, he would be a fool to attack the settlement while
I am gone, for he would be far outnumbered. Nay, I believe that he will wait
until he can meet me in battle face to face."

But Gwendolyn had not even heard his last words. Her
mind was racing at the news that he would be taking Garric with him on the
voyage. Nay, it would not be possible for Anora to accompany him as Garric!

It was true Anora had done well so far in the guise of
a boy. Her sister had quickly learned the skills she needed to work in the
stable, and had discovered in herself a natural ability with horses. Yet she
had not been able to match the boyish mannerisms Gwendolyn had displayed as
Garric, or the same swagger and biting tongue. Fortunately, this had not posed
a problem, for there had been very little contact between her and Hakon during
the past few weeks. But to serve as his page, to be in his presence constantly .
. . nay, it was not possible! Gwendolyn was sure it would not be long before
her sister's guise would be discovered. All that was needed was one misstated
word, one highly feminine expression, and all would be lost.

"Will you sail at dawn, my lord?" she asked,
fearful of his answer. If they left that early, she would have no hope of
venturing unnoticed to the stable to exchange places with Anora once again.

"Nay, though I had hoped we might," he
answered, somewhat surprised by her question. "I shall wait until the
reinforcements from the surrounding settlements have arrived before we sail."
He put his finger gently to her lips. "Enough talk, little one. It will be
many nights before I shall hold you in my arms again. All that matters now is
that you are safe, and here with me."

Aye, then, there would be time, Gwendolyn thought, a surge
of relief coursing through her body. But it was quickly replaced by the
kindling of desire as Hakon lifted her chin and brought his lips down upon her
own. His mouth moved against hers, warm, tender, in a breathless kiss that
caused her to tremble uncontrollably. She could feel her body yielding to him,
relaxing in his arms. All thoughts of the Yuletide feast, Rhoar, and even Anora
flew from her mind as she returned his kiss, her delicate fingers entwining in
the soft waves of his hair as she held his face in her hands.

Hakon drew away from her and gazed into the emerald
depths of her eyes, dark with passion. He exulted in the desire he saw
reflected there. An intense wave of emotion suddenly welled up within him that
was so strong he could have cried out, his heart pounding madly against his
chest. Yea, he knew now that he loved her, more than life itself . . .

Perhaps he had all along, Hakon thought with a sense of
wonder, since he had first found her aboard his ship. Perhaps that was why he
could not take her against her will that night in the bathing house, though his
body had ached to possess her. This beautiful woman, like a goddess in the perfection
of her face and form, had so captivated his soul with her passionate spirit
that he knew he was lost to her forever.

Hakon
lay
her back gently on
the bed and began to draw the silken garments from her one by one. Murmuring
soft words of love, his strong hands caressed her satiny-smooth skin as her
lithe body was slowly revealed to him. She writhed luxuriously from his touch,
arching her back as his mouth briefly teased her pert nipples. His lips burned
a molten path between her breasts to a delicate shoulder, then along the
alabaster column of her throat until he once again captured her mouth with his.
She wrapped her slender arms about his neck, pulling him to her.

Hakon chuckled from deep in his throat. Her wild
response never ceased to delight him. "One moment, my love." Suddenly
he moved away from the bed. Gwendolyn opened her eyes in surprise. Then a faint
smile curved her lips. He was quickly stripping away his own garments, until
his powerful body was bared to her gaze. Truly, he was a magnificent sight!

Delighted by her admiring and lusty perusal, Hakon did
not tarry from her side for long. Before she could blink she was once again
wrapped in his strong arms as he drew her against him.

He traced his finger slowly down the side of her face,
his hand stroking the small of her back and her slender, curved hips. "I
want you to touch me, Anora," he whispered huskily, brushing his lips
against her long, gold-tipped lashes.

She blushed heatedly at his request. He had never asked
this of her before!

"'Twould please me," he murmured, sensing her
obvious embarrassment by the flushed rose color of her cheeks. Still she
hesitated, unsure of herself, so he gently took her hand and guided it down his
taut, sculpted belly to between his sinewy thighs.

Gwendolyn gasped as his manhood seemed to leap into her
hand. Then, emboldened by her desire, she tentatively caressed the tip. It was
smooth to her touch. She wound her fingers around his growing hardness, not
knowing quite what to do. Slowly she began to caress him.

Hakon groaned with pleasure, the pressure of her hand
stoking the burning fire that was raging in his loins. Suddenly he drew her
hand away and pressed her back against the eiderdown pillows. Nay, he could
endure her sweet torture no longer!

"Have I displeased—
"

Hakon cut off her whispered question with his kiss,
determined to erase the memory of Rhoar's touch from her lips, her body, her
mind. "Nay, my love, never . . . never," he replied, his voice low,
emphatic, as his kisses seared like wildfire across her slender body.

His strong hands were everywhere, teasing, stroking,
until her skin felt warm and tingling from head to toe. His fingers explored
the moist core of her, while his mouth, hot, insistent,
suckled
hungrily at her breast, occasionally nipping her gently with his teeth. She
moaned in ecstasy, overwhelmed by the heated torrent of his desire, as he
trailed a fiery path of kisses down the curved indent of her belly to the soft
silver-blond mound of curls between her silky thighs.

Gwendolyn gasped in surprise as his mouth found the bud
of her desire where his fingers had been only moments before. She tried to pull
away from him, but he held her fast, his hands supporting her hips. Thrilling
to this new sensation, she gave in to the heady waves of passion that coursed
through her body like flickering tongues of flame. She moaned with wild
delight, arching her back.

Suddenly Hakon drew himself up over her, his startling
blue eyes ablaze with desire as he slowly entered her. Supporting his weight
with his arms, he held back for a moment, watching in fascination as she
writhed beneath him. She reached up and wrapped her arms about his waist, then
pulled him to her.

Hakon could wait no longer. Inflamed with an urgency
borne of the burning need to possess her completely, he plunged himself into
the warmth and softness of her body. She cried out his name, over and over, her
legs gripping him tightly, as he thrust deep within her to the hilt of his
manhood.

Gwendolyn met him with a passionate fury that equaled
his own. Panting, breathless, they raced together to that apex of desire. For
one blinding moment it seemed that the world had stopped but for the fusion of
their bodies into a throbbing, shuddering whole.

Hakon collapsed against her, nuzzling her neck with
gentle kisses as their breathing returned to normal. Afraid that he might crush
her with his weight, he gently rolled over to one side and pulled her to him,
cradling her head against his shoulder. Holding her close with his strong arms,
he felt a numbing sense of contentment wash over him. He knew this was how it
was meant to be between them . . . forever. He chuckled deeply as her fingers
played absently with the golden curls on his broad chest.

"Yea, I believe 'tis time I took a wife," he
stated softly.

Gwendolyn started in surprise. "My . . . my lord?"

"Perhaps a wench with silver-blond curls and emerald
eyes the color of the sea." He smiled, his teeth a flash of white as she
looked up at him in astonishment. He suddenly brought himself up on one elbow,
his hand tenderly caressing the silky skin of her cheek. His eyes burned into
hers with piercing intensity.

"I love you, Anora."

Gwendolyn gasped, but he gently touched his finger to
her tender lips.

"Yea, and when I came so close to losing you this
night, I finally realized that my life would be naught without you.

Never again shall it be said during a feast that 'tis a
pity you are a slave. When I return from Trondheim, you shall become a free
woman, and my wife."

Bending his head, he pressed his lips to hers in a
breathtaking kiss that seemed to echo his words over and over . . .
I love you . . . I love you.

Tearing his lips away from hers at last, Hakon gathered
her into his arms. "We must rest now, my love. The morn will come only too
soon." Sighing contentedly, he lay his head back against the eiderdown
pillows and closed his eyes. He knew his revelation had startled her, and, he
hoped, had pleased her. She had given him no response, though he had not really
expected one. He knew such a fragile thing as love could not be forced. Yet he
felt sure that one day Anora would return his love. Why, even tonight there had
been more than passion and desire reflected in those deep, emerald depths. Yea,
something more . . . perhaps a smoldering ember of affection that could one day
flare into a raging love that would match his own.

It was not long before the steady rhythm of Hakon's
breathing told Gwendolyn he was asleep. She looked up at him, her heart in her
throat. Slowly, and ever so softly, she traced her finger down the high-boned
planes of his face and across the sensuous curve of his mouth. Suddenly she shuddered
from deep within her, and would have cried out but for fear that she would wake
him. She felt as if she were being torn in two, her soul ripped asunder by the
conflicting emotions that warred within her. The feeling that had plagued her,
tearing her apart and destroying her resolve, had at last found a name . . .
love.

Aye, she loved him, more than she wished to admit to
herself. Hakon, the Viking warrior she had sworn to hate and defy until that
one day when she and Anora would escape from him forever.

Gwendolyn's agonized thoughts swirled about in her mind.
What could she do? Tell Hakon the truth, that she had adopted the guise first
of a boy, then of Anora, to protect her sister's virtue? He was in love with
the women he thought was Anora, not her! Would he release her sister, and allow
her to return to their homeland if she stayed with him in Norge? Nay, she could
not be sure. Perhaps he would have them both! She knew that many Vikings had
more than one wife!

She shook her head fiercely. Nay, their love could
never be! She would play the part, whether it
be
of
Garric, or wife to Hakon Jarl, until that day when she would make good her vow
to Anora, and escape from the Viking and the love that would capture her heart
forever.

Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, Gwendolyn at
last fell into a tormented sleep.