Free A Heart of Fire by Kerri M. Patterson Page A

Her
breasts tingled into tight buds where his gaze lingered, sending heat to spread
up her neck and into her cheeks.
    He
wished to wed her supposed sister, did he? She tilted her nose up at him.
"Depraved mongrel," she muttered.
    His
gaze flashed to hers.
    "You
wish to wed my sister?" Finna asked. "If I indeed had a sister, she
would hear of your licentious looks. Do not think I am blind, Viking."
    His
stare turned cold, and as if for emphasis, the rope closed tightly around her
wrists, the coarse fibers biting into her skin.
    She
bit back her gasp, but his cool gaze steadied her determination to not back
down or show him any pain. She snapped her teeth at his jaw in attempt to bite
him and came very close to succeeding with the tiniest nip, the slightest touch
of her lips against his skin.
    Finna
blanched at herself, at the salty taste of him on her lips.
    Valdrik
flinched and reached to touch the spot on his neck. He growled low. "Damn
you," he cursed her.
    She
had the desire to strike him, but instead, she scrutinized him coldly over her
shoulder. Oh, how she loathed this man. “I think you are a filthy son of a
thrall whore! I shall spit your head on a spear when I get free from you, I
warn you now."
    Valdrik
pulled back from her. "And to think I pitied your father for losing you.
Methinks he was better off," he snapped.
    "You
lie."
    "Why
would I lie to you about your father?" he asked, tapping his heels into
his horse. "I have taken you." He jerked her close, his grip around
her ribs harsh. "I have conquered you," he said, his mouth very near her ear. "Do you think I need a
ruse to keep you with me?"
    She
did not miss the hard press of his body against her, his inhale at her neck as
he took in her scent. She gasped at the tightness of his arms around her and
began to squirm from his hold. "Then tell me why my uncle would pretend to
be my father?" she asked, struggling against him until he loosened his
grip.
    "Jealous
hatred. Your mother. The fact that Aldar's rightful place was passed to his
younger brother."
    "Because
of a lie," Finna said, whipping around on him. "Hadarr lied and told
the people my father had died in battle."
    "Nay,
he did not. Aldar was gone overlong, and the people did not desire him for
their ruler. Thus they chose your father when your grandfather passed on."
    "Then
why did half side with Aldar if they did not prefer him?" she asked.
    "Half?"
Valdrik snorted. "Nay, woman. Not even a third, at best. The others he
slaughtered when he took you from your cradle in a raid."
    Suddenly,
the vision in her dream flashed before her, and Finna flinched. Could those images I dreamed so vividly be
of that raid? she wondered. She shook herself. Nay.
    "You
mentioned my mother. Did you know her?" Finna asked.
    "I do know her." Valdrik
straightened then, and all his animosity and anger with her seemed to wash away
into the darkness of the wood. His hold on her loosened, and the tenseness of
his body relaxed against her.
    Finna
shook her head. "Nay, my mother is dead. Hadarr took her life. You have me
confused with someone else."
    Valdrik
scoffed. "Nay, she lives. She has longed for you. Your sister, born to
your parents two years after your uncle took you, has missed growing up without
you as well. You shall know the truth when you see your mother, for you have
the exact look of her, with the exception of age of course."
    Finna
mulled the idea over in her mind, though she found no sense to his wild tale.
"To speak of my mother living you put things into my head I do not care to
have there, Viking."
    "You
doubt me even still, though."
    "Of
course I do."
    "And
if you do not come with me, for we both know you shall attempt to escape me yet
again, how shall you ever discern the truth, fair maiden?"
    She
cared not for his taunting words. "You will cease calling me that ," Finna said, snarling back at
him. When she turned and faced ahead once more, she ducked for a branch just as
Valdrik reached to push the low hanging