The Temperate Warrior Read Online Free PDF Page A

erasing the trace of each new tear that fell. He’d answered every question she dared to ask the moment they’d walked through the door. With each second that ticked by, every skeptical thought she’d had about his honorable intentions diminished.
    He neared his face to hers and took her lips in a gentle kiss. The passion she felt in that simple action caused her heart to soar. She’d never doubt him again.
    Gustaf tentatively pulled away, searching her eyes for an answer. She couldn’t hold the words in any longer. “Aye, my lord. I will marry you.”
    His lips flashed a huge smile, his cobalt eyes dancing with delight. He clasped her face in his palms and kissed her again. His burly arms snaked around her waist and lifted her body off the floor. She felt weightless in his embrace, laughing with him as he spun her around.
    This was the happiest day of her life, second only to the moment Gustaf burst through Ragnar’s door and liberated her from the degrading life she’d been forced to live all those years. He was her savior in so many ways and now, he’d soon be her husband. Nothing mattered to her save for day they’d be united in love. Waiting until that joyous day would be the hardest of all.
    She closed her eyes and buried her nose in the safe haven of Gustaf’s neck, savoring the smell of his masculine scent. It was still hard for her to accept that this was not a dream, for she never thought she’d know true love by one noble man. She pinched her forearm just to be certain and felt the sting as sure as she felt the muscled arms around her body.
    Upon squeezing her arms around his neck one last time, she noticed the embroidered cloth she’d tucked into her sleeve. She remembered how she’d given it to Gustaf before he left and the look of pride in his eyes as he examined the colorful stitches that embellished the edges.
    She pulled it free and brought it close to her heart. Slowly, Gustaf set her on her feet, regarding the cloth in her hand. She looked up and saw the pride, once again, twinkling in his eyes.
    Taking hold of his wrist, she lay the cloth in his palm and closed his fingers around it. “’Tis not much, but I have naught else to give you. Let this be a token of my love.”
    He brought his other hand over hers and bowed in humble gratitude. “Of all the gifts bestowed unto me, this is one I treasure most. ’Twas made by your hands and given to me from your heart. I will cherish it always. And soon, I will stand before my family and proclaim my love for you before a multitude of witnesses. After that, I want to fill our home with many sons.”
    “And daughters?” she included gleefully.
    “Aye, and daughters. I can only hope they resemble your beauty and speak with fire on their tongues.”
    “And if they do not?”
    “I shall love them anyway,” he proclaimed. “For they will come from your womb.” He reverently touched her stomach. “Our children.”
    His eyes turned dark and his touch less innocent. His hand softly caressed her belly and dipped below her navel. She shivered as his fingertips grazed the sensitive flesh between her legs. Her desire for him escalated, but his devious grin told her that an idea struck him.
    “Come with me.”
    “Where are we going?”
    “I need a bath and you will help me.”
    “What about your men? What if they return while—”
    “Make no mistake. My men are skilled hunters and warriors. No living creature is safe where sword, spear, or bow are concerned.” He took her hand, pulling her toward the door. “But when the task of fishing is in their hands, I have to admit the slippery gilled beasts are the more cunning. My men will not return for quite some time.”
    Æsa didn’t argue with him as he led her from the longhouse and behind the small barn where the babbling of a clear stream cut through the hill. It was far too shallow to completely submerge oneself if standing, but it was pleasantly waist high in one particular spot.
    She had