Free Captive Heart by Phoebe Conn Page B

again by his lack of sympathy. “I had both hopes and fears, Mylan, but those contradictions are not lies.”
    Surprisingly, Mylan tightened his embrace, shielding her body with his own as a fresh gust of wind swept into the small cave. “We will have to find better shelter tomorrow, and something to eat. We are already too weak to survive much longer without food and fresh water.”
    Celiese was as amazed by his protective gesture as she was that his plans for survival seemed to include her, and she smiled as she looked up at him. “Have you any idea where we might be? Are we on your side of the fjord, or Raktor’s?”
    Mylan’s curious glance swept her face slowly. “Where do you wish to be?”
    Celiese’s level gaze met his and held it. “I have no desire ever to return to Raktor’s home, although Olgrethe was always kind to me. You say you do not want me, and there is no way I can reach France. I am lost and alone no matter where I am, Mylan, my future bleak no matter in which direction the storm has tossed us.”
    Mylan pointed to the mouth of the small cave. “The sun, when I could see it, was to our right, therefore we are on Raktor’s side, but how close we are to his home I cannot say. We may be far from his docks, or they may be just around the next bend. In the morning I will go out and see what I can find.” Mylan’s voice softened as he explained, “That is what I do best, Celiese. I prefer exploring new lands to pillaging the known world.”
    Encouraged by his tender tone as well as his words, Celiese offered a plan. “We could steal one of Raktor’s ships. They are not all as large as the Dragon, and perhaps there is one we could sail back to your home.”
    Mylan found her suggestion ludicrous. ‘I thought you were a lady’s maid, not a mariner. Do you even know how to sail, no matter what size the vessel?”
    Celiese blushed under his sarcastic teasing, but did not give in. ‘No, but I could help you. You could tell me what to do.”
    “Why would you wish to help me?” Mylan asked skeptically.
    “I did not understand all the words of the ceremony yesterday, but is a Viking’s wife not expected to assist her husband in every way possible?”
    “That ceremony was a farce! I’ve been tricked most cruelly, Celiese. I am not your husband; you are a slave, and I will sell you at my first opportunity. You will command a high price, and I mean to receive it, although that won’t begin to repay the wrong you’ve done me.”
    “I will leave you now then, go back into the sea to drown, since I have no future worth living!” Celiese attempted to rise, but Mylan gripped her narrow waist firmly to pull her back down beside him.
    That Celiese was so spirited a creature continually amazed Mylan, but he found her far too fascinating to lose in so foolish a fashion. He kissed her cheek lightly before his lips found hers, and when she returned his kiss with an affection he found impossible to resist he drew away, sighing sadly. “If only it could have been real, Celiese, why couldn’t you have really been my wife?”
    Surprised by his suddenly subdued mood as well as by his unexpected kiss, Celiese whispered softly, then held her breath as his fingertips began to tease the tip of her breast. “I am really your wife, Mylan. Why do you insist I am not when we found such perfect happiness together?” The damp folds of her tattered dress offered little barrier to his touch, and the thrill was the same, a rush of warmth that began in her loins and spread the length of her chilled limbs. She drew him into her arms, covered his face with sweet kisses as his hands slipped beneath her gown. He knew her body well now, and his tantalizing caress grew more bold until she was lost again upon the tide of his cresting passion. She clung to him, no longer fearing his strength, for he gave such delicious pleasure before taking his own that she would never cease to adore him. Her sweet affection enveloped him in