he tricked you. He’d give you his backing just to save face.”
“Maybe so, but I promised to wed his daughter. I don’t break my word. Ever.”
Footsteps hurried toward them. “I have the horses saddled,” came another gruff voice, likely his bruised and bloodied companion.
“Good. We should leave before that red-headed troll looks outside and sees we’ve stolen his sweetheart.”
“We aren’t sweethearts,” Solvi grumbled. “We’re just friends.”
“Men don’t befriend women.”
She wriggled again, anger making it impossible to hold still. And she itched like crazy from the rough burlap. Never in her life had she been treated like this. Thor’s balls, she’d never been bested by a man.
That thought hammered through her mind at the same time a slithering heat curled inside her belly. She’d never been bested. But here she was, slung over a man’s shoulder. One who wasn’t breathing hard from the effort. One who’d tossed her around like she was a waif. The thought tantalized.
Torvald slid her off his shoulder and into another man’s arms. She kicked out, the toe of her boot thudding against soft tissue. From the quick exhalation and the gagging that followed, she’d hit him squarely where he deserved it—whoever he was.
Again, she was thrown over a hard curved surface—from the smell, a horse.
“Lothar, you’re in no condition to sit a horse for hours,” Torvald said, his voice harsh. “Rest. Follow us to Hahn’s tomorrow.”
“If you’re sure…” Lothar’s voice came, sounding strained.
She snickered, glad of the burlap because she knew men were sensitive to laughter regarding their dangling parts. A slap landed against her bottom.
“Sorry, I meant to nudge the horse,” Torvald murmured.
And then the horse bolted forward, jerking her against it. Without hands to reach for a mane or sturdy thigh, she flopped with each rolling gallop. Torvald turned the horse with a nudge of his thigh, heading to higher ground, away from the docks, away from the small village that hugged the edge of the waterway leading to the ocean. Up and up they went, the horse’s smooth gallop becoming choppier as it strained against the incline.
“I’m going to be sick,” she cried out.
It wasn’t until they leveled off that he halted the horse and lifted her, dropping her to the ground where she landed on her bottom. She wrestled with the bag until she freed herself, and then glared. From the ground, peering up at him sitting atop his tall horse, he appeared almost frighteningly large. Moonlight highlighted bladelike cheeks and the bumpy ridge of his nose. In shadow, his gaze gleamed like dark hollows, seeming sinister now. Perhaps he’d taken her father’s betrayal to heart and intended to retaliate with violence.
Did he know he was better off without Runa? If her sister had thought to pass off the child growing inside her belly as Torvald’s, one glance at his hard, implacable features must have frightened her enough she’d confided in their father. Why else would her father have offered her to Torvald? Solvi had bolted from her father’s fortress at her sister’s confession, knowing she’d never keep the secret safe. Her disgust at her sister’s behavior wasn’t something she’d have kept hidden.
She pushed back her wild hair. “I’m not the bride you bargained for. You can tell him I sailed. That I was gone before you arrived at the dock.”
“I don’t break my word. Neither do I lie.”
His tone was so deadly even, it made her gulp. “You won’t let me go, will you?”
“You are promised—already my bride by right, to do with as I see fit. If the wedding is what you fear, we will forgo it. A ceremony is not required. What is required is that we lay together.”
Solvi swallowed then coughed. Her cough wasn’t convincing, but she didn’t want him to know that she’d conceded she really had no choices here. She wasn’t going to win an argument, but she might delay
“Maybe so, but I promised to wed his daughter. I don’t break my word. Ever.”
Footsteps hurried toward them. “I have the horses saddled,” came another gruff voice, likely his bruised and bloodied companion.
“Good. We should leave before that red-headed troll looks outside and sees we’ve stolen his sweetheart.”
“We aren’t sweethearts,” Solvi grumbled. “We’re just friends.”
“Men don’t befriend women.”
She wriggled again, anger making it impossible to hold still. And she itched like crazy from the rough burlap. Never in her life had she been treated like this. Thor’s balls, she’d never been bested by a man.
That thought hammered through her mind at the same time a slithering heat curled inside her belly. She’d never been bested. But here she was, slung over a man’s shoulder. One who wasn’t breathing hard from the effort. One who’d tossed her around like she was a waif. The thought tantalized.
Torvald slid her off his shoulder and into another man’s arms. She kicked out, the toe of her boot thudding against soft tissue. From the quick exhalation and the gagging that followed, she’d hit him squarely where he deserved it—whoever he was.
Again, she was thrown over a hard curved surface—from the smell, a horse.
“Lothar, you’re in no condition to sit a horse for hours,” Torvald said, his voice harsh. “Rest. Follow us to Hahn’s tomorrow.”
“If you’re sure…” Lothar’s voice came, sounding strained.
She snickered, glad of the burlap because she knew men were sensitive to laughter regarding their dangling parts. A slap landed against her bottom.
“Sorry, I meant to nudge the horse,” Torvald murmured.
And then the horse bolted forward, jerking her against it. Without hands to reach for a mane or sturdy thigh, she flopped with each rolling gallop. Torvald turned the horse with a nudge of his thigh, heading to higher ground, away from the docks, away from the small village that hugged the edge of the waterway leading to the ocean. Up and up they went, the horse’s smooth gallop becoming choppier as it strained against the incline.
“I’m going to be sick,” she cried out.
It wasn’t until they leveled off that he halted the horse and lifted her, dropping her to the ground where she landed on her bottom. She wrestled with the bag until she freed herself, and then glared. From the ground, peering up at him sitting atop his tall horse, he appeared almost frighteningly large. Moonlight highlighted bladelike cheeks and the bumpy ridge of his nose. In shadow, his gaze gleamed like dark hollows, seeming sinister now. Perhaps he’d taken her father’s betrayal to heart and intended to retaliate with violence.
Did he know he was better off without Runa? If her sister had thought to pass off the child growing inside her belly as Torvald’s, one glance at his hard, implacable features must have frightened her enough she’d confided in their father. Why else would her father have offered her to Torvald? Solvi had bolted from her father’s fortress at her sister’s confession, knowing she’d never keep the secret safe. Her disgust at her sister’s behavior wasn’t something she’d have kept hidden.
She pushed back her wild hair. “I’m not the bride you bargained for. You can tell him I sailed. That I was gone before you arrived at the dock.”
“I don’t break my word. Neither do I lie.”
His tone was so deadly even, it made her gulp. “You won’t let me go, will you?”
“You are promised—already my bride by right, to do with as I see fit. If the wedding is what you fear, we will forgo it. A ceremony is not required. What is required is that we lay together.”
Solvi swallowed then coughed. Her cough wasn’t convincing, but she didn’t want him to know that she’d conceded she really had no choices here. She wasn’t going to win an argument, but she might delay