Page 11 of Loving the Blacksmith
“Did I hurt you when I fell on you?”
“No.”
“I’m three times as heavy as you are, I must have?—”
“You didn’t.” She sounded half asleep already. “I’m all right. So warm and comfortable here.”
“Let us sleep then.”
He gave a rueful smile. As if he would be able to sleep with her by his side, so close to his heaving chest. But to his surprise, he was soon overcome by an irresistible torpor and he did fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
In the morning,Agnes woke with her hand in Magnus’. She could not recall reaching out to him in her sleep or him asking if he could hold her. But here they were, fingers entwined, and it felt good.
Natural.
He was still asleep, his head thrown to the side, his other hand resting over his chest. The sight was oddly moving. Feeling privileged to be allowed to do so while he was oblivious, she examined him, taking her time. His beard, in particular, fascinated her. Saxon men tended to be clean-shaven, and right now she couldn’t think why they would choose not to grow beards. But, of course, it might not suit them as well as it suited Magnus. Because suit him it did. The golden hairs provided the perfect frame for his sensual mouth. They looked so soft she almost reached out to stroke them. And his full lips were so tempting, she fought the urge to place her own over them.
Instinct told her it would be both the most satisfying experience of her life and the most dangerous, because kissing a virile man like him could only lead to more. But right now, he was asleep, so perhaps she could dare? She leaned over, irresistibly drawn. Could she?—
The furious banging on the door tore a shriek from her lips.
Jolted awake, Magnus bolted into a sitting position, and as she was so close to him, his head almost collided with hers.
“What the—” A sentence in Norse, coming from the other side of the door cut him off and he barked a brief answer in the same language. “It’s Sven,” he explained, glancing at the window through which the sun was pouring into the hut. “It’s much later than I thought it was,” he mumbled, sounding caught out.
Agnes’ consternation matched his own. Lost to her contemplation of his perfect face, she had not realized what time it was. But they had said they would leave early, so it was no wonder his brother was wondering where they were.
“We should go,” she said guiltily. If she had not agreed to sleep next to him, she was certain neither of them would have overslept.
She made to get up but Magnus caught her by the wrist, much in the same way he had done the night before. The heatof his fingers over her chilled skin was delicious. The night had been unseasonably cold and she found herself wishing he could warm her all over.
“No, wait... Just another moment, please.”
What was this? He wanted her in his bed, but not as a lover. He wanted to lie next to her, not over her. He had made no move to seduce her last night, as promised. So what did this mean? What did he want?
She lay back down on the pallet, waiting, guessing there was something on his mind.
“I like having you in my hut,” he said eventually. It sounded like a confession. “I’ve never lived with anyone and it’s nice.”
It was. The only people she had lived with, her own family, had seen her as little more than a servant, they had mocked, used, or just plain ignored her. With Magnus, it was different. She could be herself, and her efforts were appreciated. He liked what she cooked, he was grateful for her help at the forge, small though it may be, and he never demanded she do anything. Quite the opposite. He was going out of his way to see to her comfort. Like he had last night with the pallet.
Unable to resist, she snuggled up closer to him. “I’m cold,” she said by way of an explanation. It was not exactly a lie, even if she was in no danger of freezing.
“Come here.”
A huge arm wrapped around her shoulders. The gesture was as natural as if they’d slept together a thousand times and she pressed herself against his chest, relishing the sense of security it gave her.
“You’re so warm,” she mumbled, wondering if she was not about to fall back to sleep. There was a rumble against her cheek. It took her a moment to understand that Magnus was laughing.
“I suppose I spend so much time by the fire that the heat has seeped into me.”
“Mm. Maybe.” Whatever the explanation for it, she already knew she would want to snuggle up next to him every night, which was problematic. There was no guarantee he would want to have her in his bed tomorrow night or indeed any other night.
With reluctance, Magnus let go of Agnes. She fit so perfectly against his flank that he could have stayed entwined with her all day long but it was high time they left, if they wanted to go into town and be back to the village before nightfall.
Bloody Sven.
“I suppose I had better go get the cart ready.”
