Naughty Temptations

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Fianna wasn’t surprised when he didn’t return. For a week after their night together she went around in a daze of hope and longing. She’d never wanted anything so badly as she wanted another night, many more nights, with him. She even thought about going to him. But good sense prevailed. If he’d wanted more of her, he would have come. He knew she was willing.

After two weeks, the hope faded, though the longing didn’t. She didn’t allow herself to mourn or grieve. With the arrival of early spring, there was much to do. The small herb garden behind Marla’s house needed to be turned over and enriched to ready it for planting. The perennial bed needed weeds removed before they choked the emerging young plants. Cool weather herbs had to be gathered from the woods and prepared. Work kept the painful thoughts at bay.

For a while the work—and the possibility that the Norseman would return—kept her importunate would-be suitors at bay. Not for long, though. They soon realized the Norseman was no longer about, that he had returned to his own people and didn’t watch over her, so Fianna had to resume being careful to avoid them. The effort was doomed to eventual failure, but she had avoided thinking too hard about it, so she wasn’t prepared when they did catch up with her.

She was returning from delivering a poultice to an elderly woman who suffered from sores that refused to heal when she spotted the three of them coming out of a building. She ducked behind the nearest wall when she saw them, but she wasn’t quick enough to avoid their notice.

She turned to run when she heard one of them shout, “Look who’s out wandering around by herself! The witch must be looking for something!” The young man’s tone suggested he knew what she sought and he was just the man to provide it.

Rushing past a donkey-cart and woman leading a cow, Fianna turned into a narrow alley between the wooden side of the tavern and the public stable. They saw and followed. Fianna quickly realized her mistake in leaving the more open and populated part of town.

Behind the tavern, rolling pastureland spread to the hills in the northwest. The road going that way wasn’t far and travelers passed along it. No help for her, though. A scream wouldn’t be heard at such a distance, even if there were any chance someone might investigate it.

Her pursuers gained ground. Her breath came in ragged pants and a stitch in her side made running agony. Two of the three young men following her had the advantage of longer legs and more time spent in physical activity. She had no chance of outrunning them to any place she might expect to get help. There were too few of those in any case.

Minutes later, before she could manage to wend her way back into the main part of town, they caught up with her. An arm snaked around her from behind, holding her fast against a hard body. For a while she just hung in his hold, too winded even to struggle. Then her captor twisted her around to face him.

Jerrod, the miller’s son, leered at her with narrowed dark eyes. “Where’s your Norse lover now, witch?”

His companion, Artur, gibed at her, “He didn’t stay around for more of you, did he? What say you to us now, witch? No Norseman to dally with. He was a pretty toy to play with for a while, but you need someone to be your man. As you’ve refused all of us, ’tis obvious you’ve no comprehension of what we offer. It seems you need a sample from us, as you were so willing to accept it from him. We’ll teach you what you’re missing, whether you will it or no. You’ll take all of us.”

“I’ll take none of you willingly,” she answered, still struggling to catch her breath. “And I promise you will all regret it do you force me.” She tried to work her hand down to pull the dagger her mother had given her from its sheath.

“Brave words,” Artur said. “Yet I wager we shall have you begging us for more before we finish.” He saw her fingers creeping toward the leather sheath at her side, and forestalled her effort. He got to the dagger before she did and drew it from its case. He studied it, while the third man huffed up beside them and latched onto one of her arms. Even so, she continued to try to wriggle away from the men’s hold.

Fear tightened her throat and sent waves of icy coldness down her body. Her stomach clenched as nausea roiled it. She would not show her trepidation. “You’d best plan to kill me when you’re done, and even then I’ll haunt your dreams and make your nights a torment,” she promised them.

For a moment the men paused, but they couldn’t back off now without losing face in front of the others. A month ago, they wouldn’t have dared do this, but her choice of the Norseman had rubbed them on the raw and pushed them into proving something, though whether to her or themselves, she couldn’t guess.

Fianna found herself abruptly tossed to the ground and stretched out, with one man holding her arms above her head and another holding her ankles. Jerrod released one leg long enough to flip her skirts up, revealing her knees and thighs.

“Nay. Wait,” Artur warned. He knelt over her with the dagger poised. The slanting rays of the late afternoon sun glinted off the silver blade and set the red jewel in the hilt burning. For a moment she thought he meant to cut her with it, but then he inserted the blade under the top of her dress and began to slice down through the material.

The fabric parted and fell away from her. She shivered in the chill fall air as her breasts and then her belly were left naked to the kiss of the wind and the lecherous, leering eyes of her captors.