A Hero's Bargain Read online

  “He can always do it for you.”

  Saba’s eyebrows drifted up under her bangs. Surely she’d heard that wrong. Jennica ducked her head, smiling.

  “Just ask him to put them in. He’ll do it without hesitation. Trust me on this.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to.” Saba quickly cut a few more stalks. “This should be enough for several weeks.” She glanced sideways at Jennica. “For everyone.”

  Jennica laughed, the first truly gay laughter Saba had heard in such a long time it brought tears to her eyes. She leaned closer to Jennica and spoke in conspiratorial tones.

  “He’s a very handsome man underneath the bruises.”

  Jennica leaned over, touching her forehead to Saba’s. “They are all very handsome in the dark.”

  “Should I leave a candle burning?”

  “The light from the hearth will be more than you want.”

  “Perhaps I’ll allow the fire to burn out. He would be very, very handsome then.” They both laughed, then, enjoying the shared humor of all women.

  “Ah, Saba. I hope you know what you’re doing. He is not one of us. I hope he does not disappoint you.” Jennica hugged her tightly. “And I hope he does not hurt you. Be careful of him.”

  “I don’t think he will hurt me. He had that chance this morning.”

  Jennica pulled away. “What do you mean? What did he do?” Her eyes widened as Saba blushed. “What did you do?”

  Saba patted her blazing cheeks. “He kissed me. I enjoyed it very much. Then he let me go in favor of more sleep. That does not seem the type of thing a male with a mind to hurt a female would do.”

  “Listen to me. It may be different when he is with you. Men often lose control in the midst of passion. They can forget how strong they are.”

  Saba nodded. She’d tended a few bruises, and even bites, for a few of the village women.

  “I will heed your advice. Truly. But I don’t fear him overmuch.”

  Jennica rose and held her hand out to Saba. “Come on, then. We still have much to do and we won’t get finished sitting here talking.”

  Saba took her hand and allowed Jennica to pull her to her feet. Her aunt was right. Time free from fear of the errol was precious. They shouldn’t waste it discussing males.

  Even if males were the most interesting topic they knew.

  * * * *

  Saba returned to her little hut to find her door cracked open allowing the afternoon sun to spill across her table. Ryder sat in a shaft of sunlight, loosely wrapped in a blanket and sipping at a crock of ale. A pair of trousers and a tunic were lying neatly folded on the table. He was staring past the hearth, his eyes fixed at some spot she would never see. He looked so sad, her eyes flooded with tears.

  Why shouldn’t he look sad? He was stranded here. She understood that as well as he did. They had no vessel in which to send him back to his home among the stars. It was all lost to him unless another of his kind searched for him. Her gut instincts said no one would.

  This man might have family, might have had acquaintances, might even have been a man of importance within his sphere, but she doubted it. The man before her was, by nature, a loner. She didn’t know how she knew that, she just did, and she didn’t question it.

  The truth was he needed the Ramalho as much as they needed him.

  She needed him.

  She’d spoken truly to Jennica. The men of the village did not woo her. They assumed she and Tyree would mate and he didn’t do a thing to discourage them from thinking that. The women thought she was simply being difficult and would eventually see the logic of selecting Tyree as a mate, but she wanted more.

  She wanted what she felt standing here looking at Ryder. She wanted to look forward to returning home and being swept up in a man’s arms. She wanted to see her mate look at her and have that special light come into his eyes. She wanted to know that even in a group of people there was one she had a special language with.

  She’d seen her parents together and seen the love, the laughter, the longing for each other when they weren’t side-by-side. She’d not settle for less. Not yet.

  Ryder turned his head, spying her.

  The healer narrowed her eyes. The patient grinned.

  Ryder lifted the mug. “Tyree stopped by.”

  “Obviously.” He’d brought the clothing, too. Only a few of the men of the village would have clothing that would fit Ryder, Tyree being the most notable.

  “He brews this beer himself.”

  It was a word new to Saba. She was sure it was his word for the dark amber malt Tyree made every year. His ale was traded for as heavily as her wine. Saba set her heavy basket on the table.

  “I know he makes it. I’ve helped him upon occasion.” She reached for the crock, lifting it to her lips and tasting. “This is from last year’s brewing. It’s one of the best he ever did. It’s a wonder he had any left.”

  And he’d shared it with the stranger in their midst. The one who may or may not be able to help them rid themselves of the errol. Ryder was smart enough to attach the correct conclusion to that, she was sure. His eyes told her he did.

  “He tells me the village boasts a warm spring that is used for bathing. He’s made arrangements for me to go there. Will you come with me?”

  Her belly did a strange little flip. Her skin prickled as if his fingertips traveled lightly across it. If she went with him, would he bathe her, too?

  “I will go with you. The heat of the water might make you dizzy. It would not do for you to pass out and drown.”

  “It wouldn’t, huh? Yeah, well, I wouldn’t like that too much myself.” He took another sip of the ale. “What’s in the basket, angel?”

  “Wooly bark.” She bit her lower lip to keep from smiling. It didn’t work. She grinned. “You won’t like it much.”

  Distrusting blue eyes scowled at her. “What’s that mean? You’re going to try and make me drink something else nasty?”

  “It will help soothe the organs that filter the blood. You only need one dosing of it.”

  “And if I say ‘no’?”

  “Then you say no. I cannot force you to do what is good for you.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “Uncle. You win, angel. I’ll drink it. How long do I have before I give it up for science?”

  “What?” The man made no sense at all. She suspected that was his point and he was trying to tease her. She cautiously eased past him and checked her kettle. It needed refilled so she busied her hands with that task.

  “Never mind, Saba. I’m not being very nice. I apologize.”

  Oh, he did, did he? She handed him the filled kettle. “Good. Set this on the coals. I’ll gather what you need for your bath.”

  “What we need for a bath, angel. I think you’re getting in with me.”

  Her heart leaped into her throat, fluttering like little bird wings. The image of his hands on her breasts, covered with soapy lather, flashed through her mind.

  “That is not necessary. I am only going to make sure you do not drown.”

  His gaze locked with hers. “It’s necessary, Saba. Completely necessary. We have a deal, after all.”

  Saba imagined his weight, stretched out upon her body, pressing her down into the bed. Her knees threatened to give way as her pulse deafened her. She took a deep, steadying breath, but it didn’t help much.

  “Finish your ale while I tend to my basket and gather what we need.” She grabbed the basket and darted into her little drying lean-to just outside her back door. His voice, soft and low, carried to her.

  “This is just a short reprieve, angel. Don’t be long.”

  Chapter 10

  Ryder stared blankly into the fire and nursed the last of his ale. His conversation with Tyree had been short and to the point. Several points, actually.

  Point one—if he refused to hand over his weapons, Tyree would simply take them. And, point two—the annoying one—was Saba was off-limits.

  His host was in for a
few disappointments.

  He’d managed to convince Tyree that he would, in fact, use his weapons to combat the errol. Eventually. He’d need to regain his full strength and see this creature to gauge what he was up against before taking on the battle. The warning about Saba was subtler, and not something he could address openly without tipping his hand. It was clear Tyree knew nothing of the deal she’d struck.

  There was a small crash, quickly followed by one sharp word, from out back. Ryder grinned and swallowed the last of his beer. That word must be the Ramalho equivalent of ‘fuck.’ He’d be a gentleman and pretend he’d not heard it.

  He eased to his feet, gathering his blanket around him, and slowly straightened his spine. He felt tender, bruised even, but there was no pain. Nonetheless, he kept a hand on the table to brace himself as he peeked around the edge of the door. Saba was on her knees picking up pieces of crockery. He didn’t even try not to stare at the view it afforded him of her cleavage.

  “Need help?”

  She glanced up at him. “Yes. I need you to go sit down.”

  “I’m tired of sitting.” He stepped around the corner, sniffing the tangy, herbal fragrance of the lean-to. It was quite pleasant, reminding him of lazy autumn afternoons when time stretched out in front of a young man with infinite possibilities. Gods, that was all gone.

  “You’re in my way.” She finished stacking the shards and handed them to him. He took them without comment and laid the broken pieces on her workbench. She rose, graceful as a doe, and bent over to brush off her knees. Goosebumps prickled across his back as her tunic gapped and gave him another tantalizing glimpse of her ivory breasts.

  “Forget this, angel. It’ll wait. I’m ready to go bathe.” He was ready for everything. Lust had a serious hold on him, its claws sunk deep in his belly.

  “Some of it can’t wait.” Her hands were busy at their tasks, her moves practiced and sure. She sorted out a few reddish-brown stalks that sported redder leaves. “If these are not hung quickly the sap will drain from them and their potency will be reduced.”

  “What can I do to help you?”

  “Are you that eager?”

  “Oh, I’m eager, angel, but my offer to lend a hand is not to hurry you along. I think I can reach some of those hooks without climbing up on the bench.” He pointed toward the ceiling. She ducked her head then looked up at him.

  “Here. Hang this, then. And thank you.” She handed him the tied bundle.

  Ryder reached up and slipped the cord over the hook. He was going to ask her why the hooks were so high but realized she could move about the space without brushing any of the hanging plants and getting leaves in her hair. She handed him another bundle. His hand closed over hers. In that moment, time ceased to flow.

  She met his gaze openly but he saw the shadows lurking. Beneath her curiosity and desire was fear of him. He reached for her and pulled her to him, aware of the open space behind them and the chance of prying eyes watching.

  He should do the decent thing and tell her the deal was off, only he didn’t think he could. He knew he wasn’t going to. He didn’t want to let her out of it. The touch of her hands on his skin burned in his memory hotter than the fire the toxin had unleashed in his blood. It didn’t make any sense and he didn’t want it to.

  “I haven’t properly thanked you for saving my life. Sometimes I’m a little too obnoxious for my own good. I am grateful, Saba. I understand what risk your people took by bringing a stranger into the village. I understand the risk you took by bringing me into your home.”

  She licked her lips to stop them from trembling. “You’re stranded here. I’m sorry for that.”

  He lifted her hand to his lips. He smiled at her, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’m stranded here and I need a bath.”

  Ah, she was anxious. Her pupils flared, darkening her lovely eyes. “I’m finished here, for now. We can go.”

  “All right.” He gathered the blanket around him. Her eyes dropped below his waist. He snorted rudely. “Wanna see all of me again, angel?”

  She didn’t answer. Hell, she didn’t even move. He lifted her chin with his index finger. His mouth went dry at the look in her eyes. Gods, would they all look at him like that? With such hope?

  “Saba, do you know all the tales of other worlds? The legends of your people?”

  She jerked in surprise. “Of course.”

  Worse and worse. “Where do you think I came from?”

  She bit her lip. “I don’t know,” she whispered, stepping into the circle of his arm. “It matters not. You’re here. That is all I know.”

  “I’m not the fulfillment of old legends. I’m not the conquering hero landing on the Norse shores in my longship, sails billowing. I’m just a man, Saba.” A man trying to get his arms around her and not drop his blanket and show his ass off to the general population. He gave up and let it slip. Holding her was more important. She saved him, though, grabbing the blanket and keeping it at his waistline.

  “You will help us.”

  Such trust. It filled him with dread. He’d let these people down just like he had everyone else he’d ever come into contact with. Ryder Vaughan was not hero material. Nor was he a killer and therein lie the problem. They expected him to kill as payment for their hospitality.

  Ryder slipped his fingers into her silky hair, tipped her head back, and lowered his mouth to hers. She jerked in that way women had in that first moment of touch, of connection, when their instincts screamed flight, then she melted against him. He deepened the kiss and she was suddenly with him, giving to him what he offered to her. He hardened in a rush.

  Saba’s lips opened sweetly, inviting what he delayed. She was pliant in his arms, yielding. Ryder clamped down on his baser urges. He would lure her to passion gently, softly, especially this first time. And after his talk with Tyree, he was sure it was her first time.

  How he was going to manage slow and gentle when his body screamed for a fast taking and quick release he didn’t know for sure. He just knew he would manage it. She’d placed her trust in him to make it so. That trust was on her lips for him to taste as he kissed her.

  Her tongue darted to his, a shy, quick touch and even quicker withdrawal. He followed her, sweeping into her mouth and teasing her. He stroked the roof of her mouth and she rose on her tiptoes. He held her tighter, not allowing her to get away. She swayed in his arms when he sucked on her upper lip. A soft, breathy moan flowed out of her. He cupped one firm breast and she almost slid bonelessly from his embrace.

  The bath would have to wait.

  Ryder backed up, never taking his mouth from hers. She made a low sound of protest and stepped toward him, plastering her body to his. Reluctantly, he broke off the kiss, trailing his lips across her cheek to whisper hoarsely in her ear, “The bed, Saba. Let’s go to the bed.”

  She made a strangled sound and clutched at him. Gods, what he’d give to know a woman’s mind at such a time as this. He took another step backwards, and then another. She moved with him, with some hesitation, but not to the degree that it would stop her from bedding him.

  They stumbled through the door. Saba tried to steady him.

  “I’m fine, angel. Just close that door. Can you latch it?” He took the blanket from her, tossing it onto the bed. She licked her lips as her gaze slid down his body, her eyes widening as she came to his erection.

  Ryder’s knees went weak. Would she? Did she even know about it? He could just imagine her asking the other women of the village if they ever went down on their man. Hell, they’d probably label him a deviant and toss him out for the errol to eat. It’d be worth it if she’d just take him in her mouth.

  Saba moved to secure the doors and windows, her eyes black against the paleness of her face. She fumbled the hooks on the last shutter. When she turned back to him, she didn’t look at him. In that instant, he knew he could back away if she needed him to.

  In that instant, he started to suspect he was in a world of trouble
where she was concerned. It was big trouble, too, and of a kind he was unfamiliar with.

  “Do you want a glass of wine, angel?”

  “Do you?” Her voice was a whisper.

  “I think you should have one.” He took a few cautious steps away from the table. The strong, slender hands of the healer reached to steady him should he need it. He took one, lifting it, admiring the tools of her trade, well skilled in their work.

  “You have lovely hands, Saba.”

  Her gaze flew to his. He smiled at her. “I owe my life to these hands. I suspect a lot of people in this village do, too. Why did you become a healer?”

  She swallowed twice before she answered. “It felt like it was what I should do to help people. Why is that of interest to you?”

  “I’m curious about you, too, you know.” He pointed to the floorboards the wine was hidden beneath. Her eyes took on a determined light.

  “I do not want wine. Do you like to imbibe?”

  “My imbibing is in direct correlation to the amount of nagging I’m on the receiving end of.”

  He watched her mull that over. Her eyes narrowed as her chin lifted. He grinned at her. He had to say the words to her even though he knew he was going to regret it. Really regret it.

  “Listen, angel. The deal with the weapons? Let’s just call it off. I told Tyree I’d see what my hand weapons could do against the errol just as soon as I regained my strength. What happens between us is outside of all that. Okay?”

  She looked…alarmed. “Do you not want me now? Have I been too bold?”

  Ryder shook his head. “I don’t…that’s not what I meant. I want you, just for yourself. And if we…” He tilted his head toward the bed. “I want you to come to me because you want to. Not because you think you have to so I’ll fight the errol.”

  She was looking at his manhood again, eyeing it up the way a cat did a bowl of cream. The stiffness in his back and the weakness in his legs were forgotten. The residual pain vanished.

  Saba suddenly turned away. Damn, damn, damn. She had the wrong idea about what he said. He should have just kept his mouth shut and let the chips fall where they may—afterwards. But no, for once in his life he had to try to be a nice guy. And where did it get him? He stared at the embers in the fireplace.