The Captive by Joanne Rock Page A

scoffed, scooping up another bite. “All of your spices usually hide the taste of bad fish. If your men were not too lazy to hunt every day, your cook would not need to salt away the flavor.”
    Gwen took another bite and another, liking the way the slightly crisp outside hid a tender interior. Her senses were all heightened, her body still simmering with awareness.
    “Who would have guessed a fierce warrior chieftain would prepare better fish than a keep’s cook?” She sipped the water he’d brought in earlier, wondering if it was only her hunger that made the meal taste so good.
    “A warrior provides for himself every day he is not seated in his hall.” Wulf held another piece of fish at the ready for her, but this time, he did not offer it. He reached forward with his other hand and gently brushed something from her lower lip.
    Warmth glowed inside her like a hearth fire turning to embers.
    “Then I will not fear starvation under your care.” She tore her gaze from his and focused on the morsel that awaited her. “Although you do not dole out the portions as generously as I might like.”
    She had only meant to tease him into feeding her. She had not anticipated the sudden stillness that came over him or the slow, deliberate stroke of his finger down her cheek to caress her jaw.
    “I will provide all that you wish when you are ready.”His voice steamed along her senses, the deep tone vibrating through her skin and making her most secret places hum.
    Slowly, she understood his meaning. He referred to the carnal intentions he had toward her. With incredible masculine arrogance, he seemed to think she would one day welcome his touch even though they were enemies. Even though he held her against her will. Even though she had never enjoyed coupling.
    As much as she did not wish to discuss the topic they danced around, perhaps she needed to make her position clear so there were no misunderstandings.
    “I will never be ready for—” she struggled for words “—what you want from me. I realize the kiss might have been misleading, but it only happened because…” She did not want to have this discussion, but in light of their situation and because Wulf did not strike her as an entirely unreasonable man, she told him the truth. “I had never kissed a man.”
    The revelation did not appear to surprise him.
    “Your husband did not consummate your marriage?” He fed her more fish as he asked the question and she appreciated the small distraction from the embarrassing discussion.
    “He consummated it.” The morsel soured in her mouth. Her wedding night had been a nightmare she would never forget and she’d been very aware of the moment in which her virginity had been torn from her. “But he never kissed me as you did. In fact, he never gave me anything resembling a kiss, so I was caught off guard earlier by…what we did.”
    She had been overwhelmed by Wulf, actually. The sweetness of it had been such a surprise, she’d felt immobilized, unable to pull away from an experience thatshould have been hers as a married woman. Indeed, she’d wondered if Margery’s husbands had used their mouths so sweetly and if that accounted for the widow’s haste to return to the altar. Of course, Gwen could not see how even the sweetest of kisses would make up for the pain of the marriage act.
    “Your husband was unkind.” Wulf stated it as if he knew it as truth, though Gwen had told him no such thing.
    “I was to be a peace-weaver between warring clans, but I and my husband never saw eye-to-eye despite my efforts.” And they had been numerous. “Instead of weaving peace, I served as a reminder of how much my husband despised my overlord.”
    As she took the last bite of fish to tide her over for the night, she hoped that now Wulf would understand her reluctance to engage in the bedroom games other widows apparently found enjoyable.
    She watched as he washed his hands and scrubbed a damp linen over his face now that her