Page 61 of Storm of Desire
He didnot.
Amber eyes narrowed in glorious fury. "While I have heard of the word, I have simply chosen to strike it from myvocabulary."
"Youwould."
"Drekido not concede. We fight until the bitterend."
Haakon lowered himself, until their faces were barely an inch apart. Some part of him was enjoying this. "You're not going to win thisfight."
"You sound so certain." Her voiceroughened.
His thumbs stroked against the inside of her wrists. "Should I notbe?"
Uncertainty sat like a foreign object on her expression. For all her bravado, she seemed to hesitate, and that gave him pause. Árdís had been a virgin before their marriage, but her manner had always been unabashedly sexual. She'd pursued him with such fervor it had been all he could do to deny his base instincts as he courtedher.
But here, now, he saw a hint of vulnerability in her eyes he'd never seenbefore.
She cleared her throat, and the faint flickering smile that stole over her lips was nothing more than an act, he was certain of it. "Do you mean to share the bedrollthen?"
Haakon's lashes lowered. "No." There were limits to what he couldtolerate.
"Then this is agame?"
It felt like something was lodged in his throat. Flirting with her last night had been a test, one that opened Pandora's Box, for she'd had no compunctions in returning the favor today. Yet, the look in her eyes spoke to him as she searched his gaze, trying to work out hisintentions.
It said;please touchme.
And yet, it also said;please don't hurtme.
He'd been so lost in his own anger that he hadn't noticed until now, that perhaps he wasn't the only one hurting. The realization left him slightly breathless, and changed the aim of thisencounter.
Haakon pushed to his knees, giving her some space. "Rollover."
An arched eyebrow met thisrequest.
"Just roll over," he said gruffly, grabbing her by the hips and turningher.
"What are you up to?" She pressed her hands flat to the bedroll, and craned her neck so she could see what he wasdoing.
He paused, resting on his knuckles above her. The pose was incredibly tempting. He'd taken her like this, many atime.
But this was not aboutsex.
Nor was it aboutrevenge.
This was about discovering what wasreal.
"Here," he muttered, dragging her skirts up her legs. Mud flecked herstockings.
"What are youdoing?"
"If I don't rub out some of the stiffness, you're barely going to be able to walk tomorrow, let alone sit on ahorse."
He found the top of her woolen stockings and began to work them down her legs, trying not to think too hard about what his hands were doing. Árdísfroze.
"It's not like I haven't seen it all before," he reminded her, hauling his pack closer and tugging open the tin of liniment he kept for the horses. Dabbing his fingers into the strong-scented mix, he warmed it between his palms, before setting them on hercalves.
"Yes, but...." She made a choking sound deep in her throat as he skated the flats of his palms up the back of her legs, pausing just above her knees. "Oh."
