Page 44 of Heart of Fire
“Travel,” she whispered, as he tugged the ribbon loose. “See these great cities my books speak of. See thisworld.”
There it was. He smiled and began to unravel the bottom of her braid. Silky hair curled around his fingers. He’d dreamed of it spread over his sheets, dreamed of running his hands through it. “You like my stories, because you dream ofadventure.”
“I like any story.” She watched what he was doing. Not with trepidation, but almost as if she wondered what he intended. “It reminds me there is something more out there, something beyond my day’s worth ofchores.”
“And is this your greatestdesire?”
“Why are you so insistent upon dreams?” she growled under her breath, capturing a handful of her unraveling braid. “They’re little more than wistful thinking. Wonderful in the moment, but rather insubstantial, because nothing will come ofit.”
“To dream of something more is the greatest gift one owns. Without them, there is nothing to strive for. No reason to continue breathing. We might as well become the rock and stone beneath our feet.” Rurik brushed her hand aside and spread thick waves of golden hair across the picnic blanket, even as Freyja shifted as though she wasn’t certain she should allow him to continue. “And because you have set me a challenge: to give you your greatest desire, in exchange for yourheart.”
Her heart began to beat a little quicker. He heard it. “That is not my heart’s greatestdesire.”
“Then whatis?”
Freyja suddenly smiled. “I’m not telling you. If you were paying attention, you should be able to work itout.”
“Vexing woman.” Rurik grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged gently until she rolled onto her back. He came over her, shaking the last of her braid free. Thick strands of molten gold spread across the dark blanket, crinkled into loose waves. “I think you like beingpursued.”
“You’re the mighty hunter,” she teased. “You wouldn’t enjoy the chase if it were tooeasy.”
“True. But then I know what comes at the culmination of the chase,” he replied, heat in his eyes. “And I enjoy that far more thanchasing.”
Bringing a handful of her hair up to his face, he rubbed it across his cheeks. She smelled like a summer breeze, like a wild storm. And her mismatched eyes watched his expression as though she saw something there she didn’t know how to interpret. “What are you doing?” Freyjawhispered.
“I have dreamed of running my fingers through your hair like this.” He rubbed a strand of it between forefinger and thumb, his eyelids lowering lazily. “You have beautiful hair and I want to see itdown.”
Those perfect lips were so close to his, still stained pink from strawberries. Sweet, and lush, and practically begging for hiscaress.
Rurik lowered his face to hers, his fists curling in handfuls of her hair. One taste and he was lost. He licked her slowly, teasing his way into her mouth as Freyja opened up to him, slowly, softly, as if she were testing thewaters.
The thought of yesterday consumed him, setting him on fire. Or maybe that was Freyja. She was light, and brightness, a catalyst of pure fire that awoke every single one of his senses. Something was happening to him, and he didn’t quite know what it was, nor what it meant. But she was the key toit.
Freyja put a firm hand against his chest. Not so much pushing him away, but asking for space, and perhaps time to gather her thoughts. Both of them were breathinghard.
“You make me feel alive,” he whispered, somehow perplexed by the complex emotions swelling withinhim.
“You make me want things I shouldn’t want,” she whispered back, as if it were some secretconfession.
Not ready. Not yet. For though she craved him, something still held her back. Shifting to the side of her, he rearranged the painful press of his erection, and then stroked the soft river of herhair.
“What do you dream of?” she suddenly asked, glancing up from beneath those thick goldenlashes.
Me?He froze. Nobody had ever asked him that. Nor had he dwelled on thematter.
“I long for... home,” he replied slowly, startled to realize it was true. A sudden yearning filled him: the urge to drag his sister into his arms one more time, and to see his younger brother’s smile. Just one more day at Hekla, where his people lived, and he could belong. Home. A sense of belonging, his father’s voice echoing through thehalls—
A dream dashed. There was no home for him there. Nothing more than memories of a time thirty years in the past, before he’d chosen exile. His father was longgone.
For all his power, he could never, ever relive that timeagain.
“What stops you from returning?” Freyja stroked his cheek, fingertips trailing over the roughened hairs that marked hisjaw.
Restlessness edged through him, despite the tender touch. “Freyja, I can never gohome.”
Pushing away from her, he drew one knee up in front of him, his heart heavy. His erection was gone, thoughts of seduction fading away. Freyja dragged herself into a seated position, a thousand questions dancing in her eyes. “Do you wish to talk ofit?”
“No.”
