Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

I var tried to sleep, but every time he laid his head down on his pillow, all he could think of was that his new bride would be arriving anytime soon. The bridal party had been expected to appear sometime that day, so he had been on tenterhooks all day, restless, unable to concentrate, not knowing what to do with himself.

But with the news that there had been rough weather at sea, he had a short reprieve before what felt like his own execution. In any case, his betrothed would arrive at the castle tomorrow for certain.

His whirring mind had made it impossible for him to rest, and so he had slipped out of the castle to take a walk and think alone in the peaceful moonlight. He knew it was not a great idea to go out wandering that night. He should have been trying to get some rest even if sleep eluded him. It was going to be a big day in his life tomorrow, for he would set his eyes on the woman who was to be his wife for the first time.

"I'll nae go far. I just need a wee bit of time tae breathe, that's all," he murmured to himself as he made his way into the woods. The pathways and tracks through the trees were as familiar to him as the back of his hand, and even if the moon had not lit up his way so brightly, he would have known where he was going.

He drank in the fragrant, cool night air and listened to the nocturnal symphony of the animals, a song he loved to hear, for it soothed the turbulence in his soul. But he had not gone very far when he heard the unmistakable sound of a creature in distress. Instantly protective towards any innocent thing in pain or fear, he began listening closely to the repetitive bleating of what he knew must be a deer and following it.

He came to the little clearing by the big oak and saw it—a tiny spotted fawn no bigger than a spaniel, its miniature body striped dark and pale. It saw him, and its eyes contained the essence of terror.

Why does it nae run?

Then, as it tried to stand and collapsed like a bundle of kindling, he saw the reason for its frightened mewling; its front leg was injured somehow.

"Ach, what have ye done tae yersel', ye poor wee thing?" he crooned softly as he approached it. "Got caught in some nasty trap, did ye? Where's yer mam? Are ye lost then too?" His heart went out to the poor little defenseless creature, and he knew that if he did not help it, it would certainly end up as someone's supper. Though he hunted and ate heartily of its adult relatives, he could not bear the thought of that happening to the little baby deer.

The fawn quivered in terror, its little heart beating like the hammer of a clock as he slowly approached it and bent to see what he could do to help it. It fair broke his heart to see how, in its panic, it struggled to get up and flee, but it could not and fell once more.

"'Tis all right, wee one, I'm nae going tae hurt ye," he told it softly, crouching down and reaching out his arms to try to enfold it as it tried to get away again. "Let me have a look at that leg, eh? Maybe I can help."

But before he could move an inch more, a scream tore through the air, startling him. "Back off right now, or ye'll be sorry!"

Ivar was so surprised, he almost toppled over, but somehow, he managed to keep his balance and stay crouching, afraid to move lest his movement be misinterpreted. He did not move a muscle except to turn his head in the direction of the voice.

At first, he thought he must be seeing things, for standing just a few yards away, on the fringe of the clearing, stood a small, slender girl in a red dress and a pale pink shawl. Long dark tresses tumbled down over her shoulders to her tiny waist.

Her pale, flawless face had a luminous beauty in the moonlight that was almost otherworldly. Is she a wood spirit? A sprite? One of the fae? Whatever she was, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on in his life.

The moonlight caught her eyes, and they flashed a vivid green as they locked with his. All he could do was stare and marvel at the delicacy and beauty before him. Which was just as well, because her lovely features were taut with fury, her white teeth bared, and in her fist glittered the naked blade of a vicious looking dirk.

When the man's head turned towards Catalina, his face was immediately illuminated by moonlight, throwing the plains and hollows into sharp contrast and revealing his features. Catalina suddenly found herself pinned by a pair of icy blue eyes.

Surprise was written all over his face—and what a face it was. Its hard, masculine beauty was like no other she had ever seen, and even as she took in the features, it sent a shockwave through her body that robbed her of breath. His face was tan, lean, and angular, with dark shadows beneath high cheekbones, and a square jaw shaded with dark golden stubble that glittered in the moonlight.

His sculpted features had a noble cast resembling that of some ancient, classical statue, and she could see serpentine blue patterns—clearly tattoos—creeping up his neck from beneath the collar of his shirt. It was the face of a Viking warrior from some old history book. Despite his arresting looks, she hated him on sight.

They stared at each other wordlessly, and as his eyes bore into hers, she felt as if he was looking right into her soul. That angered her even more, and she tightened her grip on the dirk's hilt as he slowly held up his palms in a gesture of surrender.

"Now, step away from the animal, ye brute. I'll nae let ye kill it," she hissed warningly, brandishing the dirk at him.

His dark golden brows met in the middle, and he shook his head gently. "All right, all right, I'm goin', but ye misunderstand, I was—" he began in a soft, husky voice.

But in her fury, she heard no more and sprang at him, delivering a hard kick to the side of his head that knocked him flying onto his back several feet away.

"I warned ye, ye bastard," she spat before suddenly realizing he was not moving. Warily—suspecting he could be trying to trick her—she took a step closer and looked him over. He appeared to be out cold.

"Serves ye right," she told his immobile form, pleased to have meted out some punishment for his cruelty. However, at the same time, she was aware that he could come round at any moment and try to overpower her. So, she hurriedly stuck the dirk back into her garter, scooped up the injured animal, and ran with it cradled in her arms as fast as she could back the way she had come.