Page 33 of Merciful Salvation

He laughed. “I don’t appreciate your indifference, Kara.”

She knew what he was thinking. Three years of waiting—she must wipe the scales from his eyes. “I don’t love you, Marteinn.”

“I know.”

A chill slid down her spine. “If you already know, why do youcontinue to invest your time and energy in me?”

“I hoped you’d change your mind. Remember, you started this with a kiss, it renewed my belief that in time you might grow to care for me.”

“Idocare,” she said. How could she express herself without destroying his faith in her? “Please don’t misunderstand me. You’re a part of my family. I trust you implicitly. That kiss...” She stared at the ground. “It was a mistake.”

“Damn you, woman.” He threw his hands up.

She retreated a step. Marteinn had never cursed or yelled at her before.

“Forgive me.” He cradled her hand in his. “But I’m naturally disappointed. I’ve gotten into two fights defending your honor. Tell me it isn’t true. Assure me you don’t love the outlander. I don’t care if he’s a representative for Olaf or the king himself. You belong with a Norseman, not a Scotsman.” He released her hand and rubbed the back of his neck. “Haven’t I always shown you warmth and kindness?”

She considered confessing everything. Judging by the look on his face, she shouldn’t. “Yes,” she started. “You’ve been everything a brother should be. That doesn’t make us a good match for marriage.”

“Andheis?” His giant shoulders tensed.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re not denying it.”

She frowned. Why did all men insist on asking questions she didn’t want to answer? She knew her duty, but marriage to a man she didn’t feel even the slightest bit of attraction for would never be acceptable to her. “I admit there’s something between us.”

“By Odin.” He whirled about. “Did he molest you?”

“Erling?”

“Don’t play the part of a fool, Kara. You know I’m fully aware of your situation in that camp. That bastard didn’t touch you.Praise the gods. But reminding me in any way I wasn’t the one to rescue youmakes me angry.” He glared at her. “Honestly, I’m more concerned about Jarl McNally’s conduct.”

“He’s treated me with utmost respect.”

“By keeping you sequestered in this tent?”

“Didn’t you just complain about the rumors you’ve heard?” she asked. “Perhaps Aaron keeps me well guarded so no one will hurt me.”

He grunted. “Or to keep you all to himself.”

For some reason, the thought of Jarl McNally confining her to the tent out of jealousy pleased her. But she still preferred freedom to move about. “Do I appear happy with my current arrangements, Marteinn? If I can’t live comfortably here, I’d like to go home. But Aaron refuses to send me until my father returns from Oslo. I’m stuck here—as you are.”

“Shall I speak with the jarl?”

“No,” she snapped.

“As I suspected.” He raised his hands in frustration. “You love him.”

“I never mentioned love.”

“What else is there?”

“Lust.”

He grasped her arm. “I never thought I’d hear you speak this way.”

She snorted. “I recall the last time we were in the woods, you made it a point to mention something about having me in your bed.”