“Where are you going?” I whispered, closing the door behind me.
Her startled gaze darted to me, and she shoved her sack behind her. “’Tis not your concern.”
Her eyes were rimmed with red and her cheeks wet with fresh tears.
At the sight of her distress, an ache pulsed through my chest. I wanted to cross to her, draw her in my arms, and comfort her. But I held myself back, knowing she wouldn’t welcome me right now. Not after I’d walked away from her yesterday.
“I heard about Frans.”
She shifted her face away, fiddling with something inside the trunk before closing it.
“I’m sorry. I hold myself responsible, and I shall go in after him and do my best to bring him back.”
“I won’t let you throw away your life too.” Her response was sharp.
“I’m the one who incited him to leave, and I’ll be the one to rescue him.”
She stood and slung her bag over her shoulder, no longer bothering to hide her intentions. “No. I drove him to it, and I’ll be the one rescuing him.” She lifted her dainty chin, and her amber eyes flashed with defiance.
I loved her feistiness and her fire and her determination. But at this moment, I would win this battle, and I aimed to do it by any means possible. Including kissing her. I had Nanna’s permission to do so, and I couldn’t let so generous a gesture of goodwill go to waste.
Chapter
14
Mikaela
I needed to make my way into the forest now, while Nanna and the girls were occupied elsewhere. But from the firm set of Gunnar’s mouth and the clamp of his jaw, I guessed he wasn’t going to make this easy for me.
“Please leave.” I’d located the knife I’d hidden within the depths of the chest, the knife Gunnar had given to me years ago, one he’d told me to use if anyone threatened me. I would need it today as I went into the forest.
“I’m not leaving. At least not until I tie you to the bedpost, where you’ll remain until I return.” His normally playful eyes held no mirth.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would dare.” He took a step toward me.
I took a step back. “You have no authority over me and cannot stop me.”
“You’re right. I don’t have authority and am glad of it.” He continued advancing with a confidence and determination I didn’t understand.
I retreated again but bumped into the wall with no place to go.
Ever since I’d left the forest edge earlier in the day, I’d been racked with despondency and guilt. I’d done little else but think on what I could do to rectify the horrible situation I’d created with Frans. I’d decided I had to go in, search for him, and tell him I was sorry. ’Twas likely the only way to save him. And with each moment I delayed, I feared I would be too late.
If only Gunnar hadn’t decided to interfere. If only he wasn’t threatening to go into the woods after Frans. I didn’t know how I could bear losing him in addition to Frans.
Gunnar didn’t stop until he was directly in front of me, less than a hand’s span away. His doublet was only halfway buttoned, one of his stockings unlaced, and his hair disheveled. But he’d never looked more handsome . . . dangerously so.
I didn’t want to have this undeniable attraction to Gunnar any longer. I had to resist it. Even more, I had to find a way to put an end to it.
With what I hoped was a haughty air, I glared at him. “You need not concern yourself with me. I am nothing to you.”
Before I could move away, he braced his hands against the wall on either side of me.
I should have felt trapped. But my disloyal heart gave another fast beat.
His gaze was unrelenting. “You are everything to me.”
My breath caught. What did he mean?
“You are the only maiden who has ever meant anything to me.” His voice dropped as did his gaze, which affixed upon my mouth. “And you will always be the only one.”
I flattened my palms to the wall to keep from sliding down under the power of his words and his eyes. His nickname as the Slayer was entirely appropriate. He was slaying me by stirring up my desire for him when it was best left undisturbed.
How could he come in here and do this to me again? Yes, I understood from everything Nanna had told me that Gunnar cared about me. She claimed his feelings ran deep. But I couldn’t so easily put aside my long-held belief that he was a womanizer who would use me and leave me at will.
And even if he wasn’t the ladies’ man everyone believed him to be, I couldn’t give way to my attraction to him, because nothing good could come of it. It would only put us both in danger.
“Don’t do this, Gunnar,” I whispered.
“Do what?” He leaned in, and his long, thick lashes fell halfway.
“You know what.”
“What?” His voice turned husky. “Kiss the woman I love?”
Love? Before I could process his question, he closed the distance and fused his lips to mine. The kiss wasn’t tender or soft or sweet. Instead, it was hard and demanding and passionate.
I knew I ought to push him away, but my fingers found his tunic. I dug in and kissed him back with the same fervor. And as the kiss deepened, I found myself soaring with him above the problems and turmoil and obstacles. We were swirling together in a flight I didn’t want to come to an end. I longed to stay above it all like this with him forever.
But before the kiss could take us too far away, he gentled the pressure, tenderly softening, until he was hardly touching me.
I wanted to groan and chase after him, demanding that he take me away again, but before I could drag him back, he shifted and rested his forehead on the wall, his labored breath echoing in my ear.
My chest rose and fell in the same ragged rhythm. He’d told me he loved me and then kissed me. What did all of this mean to him?
A part of me simply wanted to take pleasure in this stolen moment. But another part—the part that had been hurt by him before—couldn’t rest. It demanded answers.
“Is this one of your tactics for slaying a woman?” I asked. “Tell her you love her and then kiss her?”
He still braced his arms on either side of me. I needed to push him away, free myself from being ensnared in his hold, and put distance between us. But I closed my eyes instead, and simply basked in his nearness, the strength and warmth and power that almost seemed to wrap around me.
He didn’t move either. “This is no tactic, Mikaela. If anyone has done the slaying, ’tis you.”
The low rumble of his voice made my insides flutter so that my fingers tightened in his tunic again.
“I meant what I said.” He brushed his cheek against mine, the stubble on his jaw rough but delectable.
“What exactly did you mean?” I forced my hands to stay right where they were instead of running them over his face the way I wanted to.
“You are the only maiden I’ve ever loved.” His whisper echoed in the hollow of my ear.
Every time he spoke, I was having more difficulty thinking coherently. But somehow, I managed to squeeze out a small protest. “No. I can’t be.”
“Yes. You are and always will be the only maiden for me.”