Page 17 of Her Viking Saviour
Wynflaed gave a polite curtsey and smiled sweetly.
“Is there something I can do for you, Gunhilda?” Torben asked, attempting to move this awkward situation along.
“If you are free when the sun starts to set, I thought I could interest you in some mulled mead. I have a new brew I think you will enjoy.”
Gunhilda’s insinuation was not lost on Torben as she held his stare. The energy from Wynflaed’s glower was so powerful he did not need to turn to see her reaction to the innuendo.
“I think not, Gunhilda. I will be occupied elsewhere.” There was a tense silence so he cleared his throat, but all it did was heighten the awkwardness. Suddenly, Wynflaed stepped beside him and smiled at Gunhilda.
“Is there anything else we can do for you?” she asked with a polite authority.
Gunhilda’s eyes blinked widely at the bold query. She looked between Wynflaed and Torben, exhaled, and drew herself to her full height.
“No, I think I have all I need to know. It was nice to meet you, Wynflaed. I bid you both farewell.”
Torben turned and looked down at Wynflaed and a smile twitched on his face.
Her jealousy and possessiveness made his blood run hot and it meant Wynflaed held the same feelings for him. She had claimed him. As fierce as Freyja in war and love, his little termagant still glowered at him from behind her forced smile.
“Is this what I am to expect, Torben?” she demanded, hands on hips.
“What do you want from me, Wynflaed?” he asked softly. Actions were one thing. But he needed words.
“I want to know what that woman means to you.”
“In truth, I have warmed Gunhilda’s bed but that is all. My feelings beyond that are the same I feel for any of my people.” He watched her absorb the information.
“And what of me?” Her voice was now soft, the ferocity gone.
“Since I laid my eyes upon you, Wynflaed, you have consumed my being. I yearn for you. Your thoughts, your touch, your fiery spirit. I want to know every inch of you, inside and out.”
His words made her tremble, so he pulled her close.
“Do you shiver with fear or because you feel the same?” he whispered.
“I cannot make sense of it, Torben, but I feel the same.” Before he could respond, she pressed herself up and kissed him hot and hard, her lips searing her claim.
She released his mouth and shook her head.
“Torben, this is absurd, you are a Chieftain, and I am a servant. All I can be is another lover to you.”
“That is not how I see you! Nor what I expect!”
She stepped away and he felt powerless to stop her.
“I need to think all of this over, away from you.”
“I will respect your space, Wynflaed.” That was all he could bring himself to say. As he watched her walk away, he ruminated. This was the first time in his life he had felt so strongly for a woman and braved telling her and now he was left standing alone, feeling like a fool. A raven swooped down and sat near his feet.
“Ah, my friend. To have even a raven take pity on me makes this a very sad moment indeed.”
Chapter Seventeen
Wynflaed sat with crossed legs under a birch tree that gave her a good view of the settlement. She bit into a ripe red apple with contentment. She had managed to avoid Torben the last three nights and had spent her days learning things about Freydis and the running of the Klavik settlement. Torben had stirred such a myriad of emotions in her when she last stood alone with him that any thought of him pushed her into a state of indecision. She licked a streak of apple juice from her hand that had dripped from the sweet flesh.
“You do not act like a high-born lady,” Freydis commented. She sat opposite Wynflaed and observed her manner.
Wynflaed shrugged.
