She raised herself up on her tiptoes and brushed his lips with hers. ‘You protected me all the way here. Why shouldn’t I put my trust in your sword arm?’
‘Because—because I am looking out for your welfare.’ He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up on end. ‘For once in my life, I am attempting to do the right thing. Be reasonable, Skadi.’
‘I know you are trying to protect me, but you will need to be with me to provide that protection. I don’t trust anyone but you.’
He made a face. ‘And if I am useless at it?’
‘What happened to Ingrid was not your fault. It was the fault of the assassin, the man you are trying to prevent from murdering again.’ She put her hands against his chest. ‘You will have to accept that I am going to return to Dun Ollaigh and bring this man and his brother to justice. I will not be left behind to wonder and worry.’
His arms went around her and held her tight. He rested his chin on top of her head. ‘Goodness knows what sort of mischief you and Vanora would discover without me guiding your steps.’
‘Perish the thought.’
He laughed. The muscles in Ceanna’s neck eased. The storm had passed, after a fashion. ‘If there is any fighting to be done, you make sure you are far away.’
‘I will do my best.’
‘I mean it, Skadi. I will not have the death of another innocent woman on my conscience.’
Ceanna knew from the tone of his voice that she’d won. Her heart squeezed. It scared her how much she cared for this man and she knew that she had to be willing to let him run headlong into danger to complete his mission. He had saved her by marrying her and now she must do all she could to help him find the assassin. It was the terms of their deal.
She marched to the door and pulled it open. Her aunt tumbled in. ‘I think my father’s messengers had best remain here with you, Aunt. The element of surprise will be key to discovering the truth about Lugh.’
Sandulf stroked his chin. ‘My wife speaks true. The messengers can remain a while longer under your excellent hospitality.’
The guards protested loudly, but Ceanna was relieved when her aunt smiled, the first genuine smile Ceanna had seen. ‘I think my niece makes an excellent suggestion.’
‘Aunt, when we find the boys, I will ensure they go to their relations in Éireann. I give you my word.’
‘You hate travelling over water, they tell me. Ever since your mother and brother died.’
Ceanna glanced at Sandulf, who nodded. ‘Some things are more important than my irrational fears. This is one of them. Watch for my message.’
‘Despite my reservations, marriage appears to be good for you, Niece.’
Ceanna firmed her mouth. She would be a widow before long if Sandulf did not succeed. But she could not bear to be abandoned, even though she would finally be safe. She only wanted to be by his side, to be his Skadi in truth, even if it meant watching her beloved husband die at the hands of the treacherous assassin who had massacred his family, or dying alongside him.
Chapter Twelve
They made the bridge by the River Orchy by the time the summer glimmer had started to light the insects who danced in the sky, making brief glints of gold appear. The blackbirds and thrushes chattered in the bushes which lined the track while the wind rustled the pines. Everything was at peace. Ceanna glanced over to Sandulf. Everything was at peace except him.
He had barely spoken a word since they had departed and the ease which had been between them on the journey to Nrurim seemed to have vanished.
‘Shall we stop here for the night?’ she asked, injecting a determined cheerfulness in her voice as she gestured to where a small hut stood nestled in a wooded glade. ‘It would provide shelter.’
‘If you wish.’ Sandulf swung down from his mount. ‘No one is here.’
‘We should be safe, then.’ Ceanna dismounted and inspected the panniers which were attached to her pony. ‘My aunt packed us a good supply of food. She was concerned about our welfare.’
He raised a brow upwards.
She pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her cheeks burnt. ‘What’s wrong? We have pies, cheese, cold meat and even several pieces of the honey sweetmeat that my aunt adores.’
‘Trust you to think of food.’
‘And you are thinking of something else?’
‘Yes.’ He came over to her and gathered her into his arms. ‘This.’
His kiss was fierce and untamed, banishing all the worries and concerns she had had earlier. He took her hand and put it against the front of his trousers. She felt him, hard and firm.
‘See what you do to me?’ he growled in her ear. ‘What appetites you unleash?’
The heat grew within her, flaming higher. Last night had been more than some misplaced sense of duty. She knew she didn’t want to be the way her aunt suggested—quiet, obedient, dutiful. She wanted fire and passion and love. ‘Food can wait.’
His smile transformed his face. ‘Good.’
He picked her up, went into the small hut and set her down on the table.
‘Here?’
‘I intend to feast on your body.’ His hands roamed over the contours of her legs, sending little prickles of heat radiating outwards. He leant forward so that his lips nuzzled her earlobe. ‘And invite you to feast on mine.’
‘You want us to join? In the daylight?’
His eyes danced. She knew she could spend a lifetime studying those eyes and never fully discern their many colours. ‘Why wait for the cover of darkness when we are alone?’
Her response was to wrap her arms about his neck and pull him down into her embrace.
Sandulf watched Ceanna sleep. Her lashes made half-moons on her pale cheeks. He ran a finger down one of them.
She might be tiny, but she was fierce. She’d firmly woven herself
