Branded By Etain by Jianne Carlo Read Free Book Online

gentle breath tickled the hair on his chest. He snagged his arm on the curve of her waist and marveled at the feel of her skin, all pillow-soft and smooth.
    “My lord?” she whispered.
    He frowned, having liked the way she spoke his name, as if lingering over a sweet treat. “Brand, Étaín.”
    “Aye, my lor—Brand. Do we have much to do on the morrow?”
    Inform her father she had wed not only a Viking but a bespelled berserker, prepare for an invasion, and determine the source of his and Nikolas’s tingling necks. He stifled another sigh and replied, “Your father and I must speak of the marriage contracts.”
    “Oh.” She yawned making a tiny delicate sound like a kitten’s mew. “Aught else?”
    “My langskip is in the harbor, and I must see to unloading the cargo.” Brand fell silent, stared at the rafters, and mused about her father’s reactions. He hoped all would go well, but what needs be done would be, even if it meant capturing the castle by force.
    His petite, fairy-like bride emitted a snore worthy of a fat little piglet. He grinned and swept a glance over her face.
    She had fallen asleep like a babe, one instant awake, the next not.
    Though ’twas full dark, his beast vision allowed him to see her nostrils flaring and the sudden twitching of her lips.
    Was she all she seemed, his elusive truthsayer wife?
    The myriad years spent in the Danish courts living amidst constant deceit and scheming had taught Brand and his brothers to trust none.
    Memories of his first wife surfaced and left a bitter taste in his mouth. It had been a marriage of alliance, and she had come to him with another’s babe in her belly. Not that he knew it until the child was born and had the coloring of a Moorish King who had visited the courts the winter past. None had dared contest his declaration of divorce.
    Brand gritted his teeth. Nay. ’Twas not the time to dwell on his first wife’s savage revenge on him and his entire family.
    They had survived the banishment to the isle of Bärvik. That the fire-spewing mountains of the island had sparked some enchantment in them did not matter. The dreams that bedeviled them for three long seasons had showed, with the coming of spring, the path they all had to follow, the beasts of Bärvik.
    Once again, he examined his slumbering wife.
    Did such purity still exist in this wicked world?
    Tempted though he was to weave his way into her dreams, Brand did not do so. Time enough for that after he had secured his kingdom. He lay awake analyzing and planning until the first rays of dawn filled the cracks in the shutters.
    The bunched muscles in his neck relaxed when he surveyed his sleeping wife yet again. Not for a moment did he attempt to repress the smile of pure pleasure that tugged at his lips.
    In repose, Étaín resembled the angels he had heard the priests describe down to the ring they called a halo. Sunlight formed a circle above the wisps of her hair and deepened the peaches in her cheeks.
    He slipped off the bed and stood staring at her. Fisting his hands, he vowed not to let his heart soften to her. Any more than it already had since his first glimpse of her laughing and twirling and lifting her face to the sky.
    •●•
    “’Tis time to greet the day!”
    Cedilla’s booming greeting startled Étaín awake. Wincing when her nurse banged the shutters open, she knuckled the sleep from her eyes.
    Memories of Brand and his magnificent pecker surged. She scanned the room. Disappointment sank low in her belly when she glimpsed Cedilla tending to her trunk.
    Where was Brand? Had she dreamed all again?
    She levered onto her forearms. The sheets slipped away and she grabbed at the linen as an icy draft wafted across her bare shoulders. Slumping back onto the bed pillows, she shifted her legs, and all at once recalled Brand cleansing her woman parts.
    Surely, she had not dreamt such an unheard of thing?
    Cedilla lumbered to her side and thumped onto the mattress. “How fare you