A Viking For The Viscountess Read Online Free PDF Page B

upon her son. In his eyes, she saw a storm of emotions. Then, abruptly, he left the house, returning outside.
    Instinct warned her to stay in one place, but she had no idea what the man might do next. “Stay here, Harry,” she told him. “Open your primer, and read aloud to Grelod. I’ll be back in a few moments.” She set down the fur covering she’d wrapped around her shoulders and replaced it with a spare woolen cloak, since her other cloak was now at the bottom of the sea.
    Outside, she closed the door behind her and hurried to follow Thorgrim. His pace was swift as he climbed the hillside behind the house, his movement fluid and strong. It was a struggle to catch up to him on the narrow path, but she hastened forward.
    When they stood at the top of the hill, he shielded his eyes against the sun and stared out at the sea. Trouble and fury brewed within him, and she wondered if it had been a mistake to follow him.
    He made no acknowledgement of her presence but sat down upon a large granite boulder. For a long time, his gaze remained upon the sea and on his ship anchored in the harbor. “This is not Asgard,” he said at last. “I am caught between worlds.”
    She kept a safe distance away, not understanding. “What do you mean?” The look in his eyes was of a man lost. Beneath his fierce demeanor, she saw a glimmer of uncertainty.
    “I do not know why I was summoned here,” he answered. “Or why you were sent to me.”
    “I—I wasn’t sent to you,” she protested. “I told you, the wind carried my ship out to sea.”
    “So you say.” He stood up and drew nearer. “I was killed in battle, a day ago. Why am I not dead?”
    The intensity in his voice frightened her. His words were of a madman, incomprehensible. She took another step backward, a harsh chill rising over her skin. He believed this, didn’t he? And that made him dangerous.
    Before she could flee, he pulled her back from the edge of the path, his hands closing around her waist. “Are you an evil spirit, sent by Freya to tempt me from the afterworld? Is that why you gave yourself to me?” He gripped her closer, until her body merged against his.
    Fear seized her mind, but her body was well aware of the hard lines of this man. He was ruthless and without mercy.
    And yet, she sensed that he was also afraid.
    “I am not a spirit,” she said calmly. “You seduced me while I was unconscious. I didn’t know what was happening.”
    “You were willing. And eager.”
    She shook her head, her heartbeat stumbling within her chest. It had been a dream, one that had pulled her from the harsh reality of life and had given her a moment of forbidden pleasure.
    His hands moved down to her hips, drawing her nearer. “Are you a witch?”
    “No.” The whisper was barely audible, and he bent his face to hers. His heated breath warmed her cheek, and he brought his hands to cradle her face.
    “Admit that you are a test from the gods.” His mouth nipped at hers, as if to coax the truth from her lips. Though his kiss was only meant to provoke her, she felt the pull of temptation. And she could not dare tread upon that path toward sin.
    “I am nothing more than a woman trying to protect her son. I don’t know who you are or what any of this means.” Emotion tightened inside her, and she wished he would simply leave.
    Her words hung between them, and he drew back to regard her. “I saw things in your home. Things that are not of this world. A likeness of a woman that could be drawn by no human hands.”
    He was speaking of the oil portrait of her mother, she realized. But how could he think it was not of this world?
    He gripped her shoulders in an unmistakable warning. “Tell me what place this is, woman. When I sailed away from land, a storm took my ship and brought me here.”
    “This is…England,” she whispered. “I don’t know what you—”
    “When?” he demanded. “The seasons are different. It was summer when I left.”
    “It’s