“Eria wanted to see her best friend,” Lars said.
“She’s with Greta,” Wolf said and Lars nodded. “And if I know my father, he’s ordered you to remain here to help me.”
“You wound me, Wolf,” Lars said, with a pound to his chest. “Your father didn’t have to order me. I want to be here.”
“I have no doubt of that, Lars, and I’m glad you’re here,” Wolf said.
Raven stood. “I’m going to visit with Eria.”
“Sit. You’ll wait for me,” Wolf ordered.
Raven laughed. “You forget so soon that I don’t take well to orders?” She dropped his cloak beside him on the bench and turned to leave.
He reached out quickly and grabbed her arm and cursed when she cried out. He dropped his hand off her, realizing he had grabbed her wounded arm, and hurried to his feet. His arm shot around her waist. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She rested her forehead on his chest, squeezing her eyes shut tight against the sharp pain piercing her arm.
“Raven,” he said softly, gently rubbing her back while keeping his other arm around her waist. “Are you all right? Should I send for Greta?”
Raven raised her head, a wince on her face. “No, but we should go see her to be sure you didn’t disturb the wound.”
“Is this a ruse to get your way?” he asked, but seeing the pain in her eyes he didn’t believe so, though he didn’t doubt she’d used it to her advantage.
“No, husband, it’s an opportunity I intend to take advantage of.”
Lars let loose with a loud laugh. “I really like your wife.” He waved them off. “Go. I intend to sit here and enjoy the food and drink and the heat of the fire.”
Wolf grabbed a fur off the pile near the door and draped it over his wife’s cloak, bringing it snug around her shoulders before opening the door. He wasn’t surprised to see a light snow falling, though it had yet to cover the ground.
“Eria is a gentle woman and could use another friend,” Wolf said as they walked.
“Warning me to watch my tongue and be nice to the woman you love?” She bit her tongue too late. Why should she care if he loved Eria? Or that she was again seeking an answer to that question. And yet for some unexplainable reason she wanted to know if he did love the woman.
His thought was the same as hers. “Why should you care if I love Eria?”
It slipped out then, and damn if she could make sense of it. “Because I will not suffer a cheating husband. You dally with Eria and I’ll find a man of my own to poke.”
Wolf stopped and grabbed her arm, making sure it wasn’t the wounded one. “Don’t ever dare threaten me with that. I’ll have no wife of mine seek another man’s bed. I’m the only one you’ll have slip between your legs.”
“And I’ll have no husband of mine dip his shaft into anyone but me,” she said, jabbing him in the chest.
Wolf brought his face near hers. “Since you honor your word, make sure you remember that and you don’t deny me when I want to dip my shaft in you.”
Raven yanked her arm free, though she knew he let her go, his grip far too strong for her to free herself if he chose otherwise. “You’ll be lucky if you can keep me satisfied.”
Anger caught him unware, his response sharp. “How many men did it take to do that?”
Raven felt the slap though he never raised his hand and that she allowed it to sting her, upset her even more. She tossed her chin up. “None as I’ve repeatedly told you. But that doesn’t mean I’ve never craved a man and I doubt you have the stamina and skill to satisfy all that pent up craving.” She turned and walked away from him annoyed at the ache in her heart, but pleased at the tic in the corner of his eye.
His wife was beyond frustrating and he cursed himself for losing his temper, which he did far too often around her. But damn if her quick barbs didn’t leave a mark.
He shook his head, mumbling beneath his breath as he hurried after her, and his anger rumbled at the thought of her ever being with another man.
Raven stopped when she spotted Eria. She stood talking with Greta, Fyn, and George. One look told Raven everything. Eria was everything she wasn’t. She was petite with pale blonde hair and an angelical face that could easily steal a man’s heart. She wore a pleasant smile and from the adoring smiles on Fyn and George’s faces, she spoke sweetly. The little lad Tait was even enthralled by her, staring up at her with a smile, from where he stood next to Fyn.