Harlequin Historical June 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: Scars of Betrayal\Surrender to the Viking\An Ideal Companion by Sophia James

Author:Sophia James [JAMES, SOPHIA; FULFORD JOANNA; ASHLEY ANNE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4603-3654-0
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

As the wound began to knit and Finn regained some strength he began to take note of his appearance.

‘Will you bring me a bowl of water and some soap so that I can wash?’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Even I am beginning to find my own smell offensive.’

Lara grinned. ‘As you wish.’

‘I notice you didn’t contradict me just then so I fear that means I’m right.’

‘Well...’

‘I knew it. Could you fetch a comb as well?’

When she had provided him with the required items Finn gingerly swung his legs over the side of the bed, biting back a curse as his wound twinged. He shifted to a more comfortable position and dragged off his shirt. Then he looked at Lara.

‘Would you mind holding the bowl for me?’

She cleared her throat. ‘Not at all.’

She tried not to stare but the sight of Finn without clothes was difficult to ignore, especially when he was only a foot away from her. Her gaze kept returning to the hard-muscled torso and the line of gold-brown hair leading the eye from his chest to a narrow waist and lean flanks and groin. He was beautiful, like a hero out of a saga. Moreover, he seemed at ease with his body in its naked state, even in the presence of a woman. She wished she could feel the same, but proximity was causing her overheated imagination to conjure all manner of sensual images that did nothing for her peace of mind.

Apparently unaware of the mental turmoil he was causing, Finn bathed his hands and face and then, taking up the cloth provided, moved on to his neck and torso. Glancing up he intercepted her gaze and smiled.

‘I look forward to an hour in the bathhouse eventually.’

She gathered her wits. ‘The wound needs to remain dry for a bit longer.’

‘I’ll make do.’

He took the linen towel from her arm and dried himself. When it was done he rubbed a hand over his chin. ‘I need to get rid of these bristles too.’

‘You could grow a beard.’

‘I tried once but the itching nearly drove me mad.’ He glanced towards the pile of war gear across the room. ‘Would you bring me my seax?’

Lara set the bowl on the stool nearby and went to oblige. Like his sword, the knife was beautifully crafted. The hilt was made of walrus ivory and intricately carved; the blade six inches of polished steel with a wicked edge. She eyed it with misgivings.

‘Is your hand steady enough for the task at present or would you prefer to let me do it?’

‘Are you afraid I might cut my throat?’

‘It’s a possibility, and if that were to happen a cut throat would be much harder to sew up than a leg.’

His eyes gleamed. ‘To be honest I wouldn’t care to put the matter to the test so I’ll bow to your judgement.’

* * *

In fact he was not averse to the idea. Apart from any considerations of safety, the idea of having her close to him was a temptation he didn’t want to resist.

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