When Celiese realized all eyes were upon her, she responded in the most tactful and gracious manner possible. First she approached Hagen, and seeing his confusion finally understood that he truly did care for her, even if he had never been able to state his feelings in words. She did not want to hurt him now, but knew she must.
“I am greatly honored that you want me to be your wife, Hagen, but I cannot marry you when your father has banished me from his home. I will not be the cause of such unbearable strife in your family, and I beg you to accept my refusal and understand its cause.” When he nodded slightly, his cheeks burning with a bright blush, she stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss upon the cheek before turning to look up at Mylan. She had prayed that he would come for her, take her back to his home and make her his wife, but he had ignored her and clearly he had no wish to include her in his life. All day she had watched him laugh and flirt with Estrid, so obviously he had not missed her, and only his pride had prompted him to challenge Hagen for her hand.
She could not hide her tears, and they slid down her flushed cheeks, glimmering brightly in the soft light that still filled the large room. “When I wished with all my heart to be your bride, you refused to accept my love. It is too late now for us to find happiness together, so if that was a proposal you made just now I must refuse it. I ask only that you help me return to France, so that my presence here will no longer create such a painful embarrassment to you all.”
For a long moment Mylan could not find his voice, for he knew Celiese had loved him once and could not understand why she did not love him still. He had not thought her as empty-headed and fickle as Estrid, but perhaps all women were the same and he was better off without them. No matter what he thought of the fleeting nature of her affections, he knew she could not simply be shoved out the front door and left to wander Denmark with neither friend nor kin to take her in.
She had been miserable in his homeland, and he quickly agreed to her request, but his amber eyes glowed with hatred as he did. “If that is what you want, you shall have it. We will depart as soon as my ship can be made ready to sail.”
“You cannot make such a long voyage now,” Aldred protested heatedly. “Winter will arrive before you can return, and the trip will be needlessly dangerous. I forbid it, you may not take this woman anywhere but to the crossroads where she might find someone willing to take her wherever they are bound.”
Mylan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know the perils of making a voyage in the autumn, but I have given my word and will not go back upon it unless you have changed your mind about sending Celiese away.”
Aldred was seething with rage, Mylan wished to force him to change his decision and he wo
uld not do so. He wanted Celiese out of his home before Raktor and his sons returned looking for her and one of his own sons might be killed protecting her. He could see the deaths multiplying; like ripples in a stream the killings would continue unless he put a stop to them now. Suddenly the obvious solution came to him, and he regretted he had not pursued it when Jens had first presented it.
When the Torgvalds left the next morning he would send Celiese with them, at dawn before any of his sons were up to stop him. The fact that she was no longer a slave would not trouble the Torgvalds in the least, and he knew they would kill her at Oluf’s funeral and let him deal with her in the next world as he had failed to do in this one. Sighing sadly as if he had no hope of solving so difficult a problem, Aldred lied convincingly. “Mylan, it is too late for us to argue this point further. I am going to bed and will speak with you again tomorrow, for I am certain we can come to a solution that will please us both.” He walked from the room, hoping to find Thulyn still awake, for he was positive she would welcome his idea with enthusiasm, for she had no love for Celiese either.
Chapter 17
Pacing the close confines of her cramped quarters, Celiese could not forget the rage that had filled Mylan’s golden gaze as she had declined his offer of marriage. Actually, she was not even certain he had proposed to her, he had spoken so quickly, responding angrily to Hagen’s proposal rather than making one of his own. All they had done that evening was fight, but at least he had not carried out his original plan to face Jens alone, and whether that was because of her advising him to do otherwise or mere happenstance did not matter, the result had been the same.
As the hour grew late, Celiese still could not rest. Her mind as well as her supple body churned with with torment, but she had had no choice in her actions that night. After she had been ordered to leave the Vandahl home, she could scarcely marry into the family. She had done no wrong, yet they constantly blamed her for the evil deeds of the Torgvalds. It was all so unfair! She could not stop her restless pacing, her rage growing more deep with each passing step. Why did her life continually run to tragedy, when to win Mylan’s heart was all she had ever wanted? Was the love of that proud man so unattainable a prize that she would never be his no matter how greatly she longed to call him husband? He had not understood why she had refused him, that had been plain in the darkness of his glance, but he had understood none of her dreams when they had been together either, and she had been a fool to hope he would be sympathetic now.
Her hand tightened around the small silver hammer she still wore suspended upon its pretty chain, her fingertips caressing the cool metal in a vain effort to affect a calm as icy as the delicate charm. She had never removed the pagan symbol, although Olgrethe teased her constantly for wearing it, but it was the only thing she had of Mylan’s and it provided the sweetest of memories. Knowing his room was nearby, she could not help but wonder if he had been able to fall into his usual untroubled sleep, when she could not even bear to lie down long enough to close her eyes.
Finally, deciding to seize the initiative, Celiese slipped silently out of her room and tiptoed down the hall. Finding the door unbarred she entered Mylan’s room quietly and slowly slid the bolt into place so they would not be disturbed while she was with him. She waited a moment, wanting to be certain he was alone in the comfortable bed, and when she heard the easy rhythm of his breathing she knew the dilemma that had plagued her mind that night had not troubled his. She approached the bed cautiously, not wanting to startle him by waking him suddenly. Finding room on the bed, she sat down upon the edge. Mylan lay upon his stomach, his cheek resting upon his arm, and she leaned down to kiss his shoulder lightly, letting her lips caress his warm skin while he continued to sleep, unaware of her gentle touch.
Enjoying herself too greatly to stop, she slid her fingertips down his back, and then over his narrow hips. His skin was smooth, taut over the powerful muscles of his shoulders, and she savored his warmth as she cast off her light shift and stretched out beside him to cuddle close. Winding her fingers in his soft curls she bit his earlobe playfully, and hoped he would awaken in an affectionate mood regardless of how little he liked or trusted her.
Mylan was exhausted. Oluf had hurt him more than he let anyone see, and his whole body ached from the brute’s punishing blows. As if that were not enough, Jens had struck a glancing blow to his left cheek. His eye was swollen and would be black by morning, but that was so minor a discomfort he had simply ignored it. He had fallen across his bed, wanting to sleep for days rather than contemplate for another agonizing moment what he was to do with Celiese.
When his father wanted her gone and she wanted to leave, why was he filled with such terrible dread at the prospect? He had to keep his promise, however, and escort her safely to France, even though she would then be lost to him forever. He knew he would never be able to forget her astonishing beauty nor the exquisite rapture they had shared far too briefly, but she was a liar, who possessed a heart made of a substance more unyielding than the finest steel, and those were faults he could not forgive.
When Celiese’s light kiss moved across the back of his neck Mylan stretched slightly, his sleep lightening by degrees until he came fully awake and realized the enchanting creature who so often filled his dreams was once again in his bed. He rolled over slowly upon his back, staring into the darkness as he reached up to touch her curls. She had such beautiful hair, such silken strands that tickled his bare chest as she leaned down to kiss him, her lips brushing his only lightly until he pulled her down into a far more erotic embrace. He swore to himself he would never let her go; she had slipped into his bed of her own accord, but she was a captive now, a prisoner of passion too strong to deny, and he felt her relax, her lithe body melting into his own, her mouth opening eagerly to accept his deep kiss, and all thought save one left his mind.
To have hoped for affection and be welcomed with such delicious ardor was more than Celiese had dared expect. Mylan was so alive, his strength and tenderness so finely meshed she could not seem to hold him tightly enough to enjoy all he wished to give. He caressed her soft curves as if memorizing every contour, gently fanning the glowing embers of her passion until they leapt into flames. She slipped from his grasp and trailed sweet kisses down the scars that ran across his broad chest, wanting only to give him the deepest of pleasures, the same glorious thrill he gave to her.
She knew the pattern left by the bear’s clawsâ??the long sweep of the animal’s paw had slashed his bronze skin ruthlessly, yet the deep scars were as unique a part of him as his golden curls or his amber eyes, and she whispered softly, “You are the most splendid of men, Mylan, truly you are, and I have always thought you far more attractive than merely handsome.” Before he could argue with her sweet compliment, she slid her fingertips up the inside of his thigh, her tantalizing touch a promise of the love she longed to give him.
As she moved alongside his lean body her tongue sent a flickering flame through the muscles of his flat stomach, teasing his senses until she felt him shiver. Driven on by the untamed desire his mere presence kindled within her heart, she moved lower still, longing to bestow a gift of love so magnificent that the memory of her would fill his heart forever. Her lips burned his flesh with a fiery kiss, flooding his powerful body with a torrent of ecstasy so wild that he wound his fingers in her shining curls to make her finish what she had begun. He drew her close, savoring each delicious ripple of the joy shuddering through him, exploding at last in a shower of such brilliant rapture he could no longer keep silent and called her name in a low, slurred moan, his pleasure so close to madness he could not keep the delectable insanity from resounding in his deep voice.
Knowing she had pleased Mylan as greatly as she had hoped to, Celiese laid her head upon his chest, content to listen to the wildly thundering beat of his heart until it grew steady once more. His fingers moved slowly through her tangled curls, sharing the bliss with her still, and she was filled with the same marvelous peace he enjoyed and had no desire ever to leave his warm embrace. She wanted to make the night last forever, extending each precious moment to the fullest so her memories would all be sweet when they parted.
Still astonished by Celiese’s lavish display of affection, Mylan hesitated to inquire as to its cause. He had no desire to provoke her, which he knew was all too easy a feat, for her temperament was a tumultuous blend of passion and fury he had never been able successfully to predict, but he could imagine no more splendid female creature ever having been born, and he remained silent until his need for her overpowered his reason once again.
Moving with exaggerated care, he pulled her lissome body against the length of his own. His injuries were no more than dull aches now, the sharpness of their pain blurred by the enchantment of her marvelous affection. She had moved over him with the fluid grace of the most entrancing of dancers, her every motion giving so rich a pleasure that he longed to repay her sensual gifts with a magic of his own. His lips caressed the soft curve of her throat and he felt the silver chain he had given her and smiled, for the charm had brought them both good luck that night.
He lingered at the hollow of her shoulder before seeking the flushed pink tip of her breast. Savoring the sweetness of her silken skin, he drew her near, turning her tenderly in his arms so he might run his fingertips down her spine. His touch was deliberate, yet honey-smooth, as his hands slid over her hips, drawing her closer still. She came to him readily, a perfect mate whose willowy body seemed designed solely to pleasure his, but again he moved with such loving devotion he made their union last until he felt the heat of her body’s response and knew the depth of her hunger for him had been satisfied.
He lost himself then in his own sparkling dreams of her. Swift and sure, his power still tender, he let his own need build to a rapturous release, and, hearing the softness of Celiese’s contented sigh, he drifted back to sleep with her cradled in his arms. He was not altogether certain he had ever been awake, for making love had never been more splendid, and he would not have been surprised to discover it had all been simply a magnificent dream.
While Celiese lay sleeping peacefully in his arms, Mylan was awakened by the distinctively metallic sound of steel scraping against stone. Someone had just walked by his door and had carelessly let his weapon strike the wall. Instantly alert to possible danger, he sat up, easing the delicate beauty from his arms before he left his bed and went to the door. Opening it no more than a crack, he waited, and, again hear
ing the sound that had shattered his dreams, he grew more bold and peered out into the corridor to discover what was amiss.
Two men stood at Celiese’s door and while he was certain one was his father he could not make out the identity of the other until he heard him speak. He recognized the man instantly then, and knowing Jens would have no good purpose visiting Celiese at that hour, he stepped out into the shadows and pressed his body against the wall, moving close enough to overhear the rest of their conversation.