Viking's Prize Read Online Free PDF Page A

shift his pelvis
for comfort. Stirring into her, he stifled a groan of pleasure.
    “What
do you pledge me?”

     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER
5

     
    Elienor
swallowed convulsively, for the look in the Viking’s eyes left no doubt as to
what he wanted of her. Mother Heloise, in preparing her for Count Phillipe, had
enlightened her to the needs of men, and it was that need she sensed the Viking
sought to quench just now. But that he would barter for it seemed out of sorts
with these men who were so willing to take without mercy.
    “I... I...”
    Stefan
stirred slightly, moaning as he lifted his head. Elienor’s gaze flew to him at
once.
    Scowling
suddenly, the Viking turned to observe him, as well.
    Forgetting
that her hair was raveled so tightly about the giant’s fist, she hurled herself
at Stefan, as though to shield him with her body, and with a wounded gasp
halted her dive to the floor, turning again to look into the Viking’s
smoldering silver eyes.
    Tears
brimmed as once again she locked gazes with the Viking. Hysteria welled within
her. For the first time in her life she was well and truly at a loss for words.
For what could she say? Barbarian, sir, could you be so kind as to release my hair so that I
may warn this kind boy against you? Hah! Likely he’d laugh in her face
before plunging his sword into Stefan’s heart... and then mayhap into her own!
Yet, whatever he would do to her, she could not allow him to harm Stefan. At
any cost she would save the boy.
    Her
eyes closed. She swallowed. “I... I have naught of value,” she said bitterly.
“Please...”
    The
Viking grinned, his teeth flashing white in the shadows, and then he laughed
outright.
    Elienor
shivered at the wicked sound of it. “Naught save myself,” she told him
honestly. Her eyes misted traitorously, but she held herself rigid and proud.
     
    Alarik’s
brow lifted as her eyes filled with telltale tears. His lips twisted
sardonically.
    So, she knew how
to cry after all?
    Again
he pondered what bond she and the boy shared that she would protect him so
fiercely—even so far as to offer him her body in payment to save him. Did
she always offer so freely? The possibility rankled, though he knew not why it
should.
    He said
more sharply than he’d intended, “What makes you think ’tis your body to barter
with, wench? As of now ’tis mine already. Why would I bother to haggle for that
which I already possess?”
    Alarm
flared in her blue eyes, and that too, rankled—that she would find the
thought of him so repulsive. Yet what else would she feel for him? And why
should it matter? As he gazed into the misty, violet-blue pools of her eyes, he
was compelled to release the hold he had upon her hair.
    At once
she fell to her knees over the boy—and it was a boy, for now he could
discern the whiskerless face.
    A
quiver sped through him as the long, dark strands wove their way out of his
callused fingers like cool silk. The pleasing sensation sent a surge of
familiar heat rushing through his veins and a smile curved his lips as he
imagined that whispery length tangled about his bare thighs. In that instant,
he craved her more even than he did revenge over the spineless count, and the
realization jarred him. More than that, he wanted to know her—that barely
subdued passion he could see with such clarity in her eyes. He wanted her
acquiescent—and so consumed with desire that she would whimper and sigh
beneath him.
    “’Tis
settled, then!”
    Startled,
the woman glanced up at him, her expression confused.
    He
smiled darkly. “You have yourself a bargain, my little Fransk.” When she still
seemed bewildered, Alarik explained, “Your compliance for the boy’s life.”
    He felt
no need to point out that he had no intention of harming the lad anyway. He had
no taste for slaughtering children, but it would serve him well if she thought
he might.
    She
swallowed visibly, and shuddered, but nodded agreement before returning her
attention to the