His profile was strong, showing a straight nose and moderately square jaw. He was broad shouldered with dark hair that shimmered gold where the firelight touched it. Up close, he was larger than she had originally believed him to be. It wasn’t a burly strength as much as one forged in battle, with lean muscle and solid brawn, which made it all the more dangerous. This was a man who knew how to fight.
She was a few steps away from him when she caught his eye and he turned his head to look at her, stopping her on the spot. His eyes were blue with a quiet intensity that seemed to see her for what she was: a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A deep groove formed between his brows in a way that made her think he did not smile very often. Thank goodness there was no cruelty lurking in his features, only a solemnity that said he was not one to suffer fools. She might have liked him for it had she not been there to imprison him.
His rugged handsomeness made it easier than she had expected to give him a smile she hoped was sensual and inviting, her ruse to get close to him. Fighting to control the trembling in her hands, Annis pushed her hood back far enough that he could clearly see her features while hoping to keep the rest of her hidden from the crowd. There was always the chance that someone would recognise the auburn of her hair.
‘Good evening,’ she said, and pushed her way to his side, her hip brushing his as she rested an elbow on the time-worn wood of the high table. The Norseman shifted backwards, but not far enough to put any real space between them.
His movement made his scent waft over to her and she was surprised at how appealing she found it. It was a combination of clean male sweat laced with woodsmoke and an undercurrent she couldn’t quite name. Soap of some kind, she would guess. A quick glance confirmed that the short hairs at the nape of his neck curled with dampness from a recent bath. Catching his eye again, she gave him a small smile and tried to think of something witty to say.
Now that she was here and this was happening, she found herself faltering. He was staring at her profile and she could feel his gaze on her. It was like standing before a serpent and waiting to see if it would strike. Her breath threatened to lodge in her throat, but she pushed it out and took another one in. All the while she reminded herself that the Norseman did not know that she was his enemy. She could not appear meek or he would never follow her outside.
With that in mind, she forced her hand to move to his forearm as she leaned closer to him to be heard over the din of the conversations going on around them. The solid strength under her palm caused a flicker of unease in her belly.
‘The road was quite dusty and I am parched. I would be ever so grateful for an ale.’ She grimaced internally at the words. They came across as needy. He would never follow that sort of woman outside.
His frown didn’t ease, but he raised a hand and signalled to the barmaid. The girl had been awaiting the signal, perhaps a bit too obviously for Annis’s comfort, and hurried over to place a tankard down with a murmured reply. Annis drew a coin from her drawstring purse, but the Norseman was faster and tossed a coin on to the counter.
‘Thank you.’ She smiled up at him as she wrapped a hand around the tankard, letting her gaze linger on his eyes before dropping to his lips in a rehearsed move. She was surprised to find them well formed and lush, neither too thick nor too thin for her liking. They made a perfect bow. Strange how she had never noticed male lips before. Had Grim’s mouth been thin or wide? She was ashamed that she didn’t know. Certainly, a few years should not be enough to make her forget her own husband?
‘I have a seat for you if you want it,’ said one particularly crude man from a nearby table as he gestured to his lap. The salt encrusting his patchy beard and thinning hair marked him as a sailor, but his wiry frame had her wondering how the first strong gale did not send him hurtling into the sea.
‘You are too kind, but I prefer my seats to have more brawn.’ She turned her back on the table as the men broke out into a roar of inebriated laughter.
The Norseman’s lips twitched as he brought his ale up for a drink. She found herself relaxing the tiniest bit at his approval. Giving him an amused look, she said, ‘You can understand why I chose a place at your side.’ To be fair, at his side was the only place she could have gone had she truly been a traveller passing through. He gave off such a feeling of danger that the crowd naturally gave him a wider berth, leaving the space next to him free.
‘Are you travelling alone?’ he asked. His voice was pleasantly low and smooth for someone who was supposed to be her enemy.
She pretended to take a drink of her ale, letting a little of the bitterness touch her tongue. The ale had been laced with poppy and valerian, as had his ale which he had nearly finished. Her plan had been to press him to drink hers after he had finished his own. To her chagrin, he didn’t seem to be particularly affected by the combination of herbs, yet.
‘If you mean to ask if
