Nena by Ann Boelter (digital book reader txt) 📕

others can hear. I will meet you back at the tent,” she said as she turned away.

“Don’t be long,” he called to her retreating back.

She turned and smiled. “I won’t.”

Nena entered the women’s bath, surprised, but happy to find it empty. She found the dress Jalla had mentioned, carefully folded on a bench. Nena picked it up and held it to her body. No doeskin warrior dress for her now. The soft pale peach-colored fabric felt like a cloud as it swirled against her. The color complimented her dark hair and skin. Jarl would like it.

As she slipped into the warm water and untied her braids, she couldn’t help but imagine bathing with Jarl. Her stomach fluttered. She hurried through the rest of the process, anxious to get back to him. Back to.... She squeezed the excess water from her hair and quickly fingered one of her favorite scented oils through the damp tresses. She picked up a quill brush and combed out the remaining tangles but did not braid it. It was still too wet—and Jarl liked her hair down. She smiled, realizing this was the first time she had ever prepared herself to try to appeal to him. She grew warm at the thought of his eyes when he saw her.

This would be the first time they would lie together with no secrets, no hidden agendas. The first time that she would give herself to him completely, body and spirit, with no questions, no doubts, no fears. Their first time as man and wife. Nena slipped into the new dress and ran the brush through her hair one last time, surprised at how nervous she had suddenly become.

Jarl entered the tent, glad to find Jalla gone, but disappointed Nena was not yet there. He glanced around the unfamiliar space. Brightly colored woven carpets covered the walls and floors and a substantial pile of sleeping furs dominated the area, taking up almost half. He smiled. On the other side was his bag of possessions, a few items he recognized as Nena’s, and a small wooden table with two chairs. The table was heavily laden with food: a carved bowl filled with various fruits, a platter of smoked meats, a loaf of bread, and four waterskins, two on either side. He opened one from the left side and sniffed, then took a sip. It was wine. He opened the second. It was the same. He moved to the right side of the table, picked up one of the waterskins there and checked it. Water. Jarl smiled again and nodded to himself. Jalla had made sure they were well provisioned. There would be no reason for them to leave the tent for anything.

The soft sound of the tent flap lifting pulled Jarl’s attention to the entrance. Nena ducked through the opening and stood once inside. She remained there for a brief moment, seeming almost unsure. Though most of her damp hair still flowed down her back, sections on either side had fallen forward when she bent over to enter the tent. They now lay dark against the pale orange of her dress. The dress took him by surprise. Only once had he ever seen her in anything other than a leather warrior dress, and that had been only briefly. Jarl took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“You are truly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he murmured and shook his head. “I still cannot believe how lucky I am. Cannot believe that you are truly mine.”

Nena smiled at that and moved toward him. He pushed one side of her hair over her shoulder with the back of his hand, while his fingertips caressed along her jaw, over her cheek and ear, to the back of her neck. Cradling her head, he leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the lips.

Nena returned his slow sensual kiss and pressed the full length of her body against his. She reached her arms around him and squeezed him tightly. He tensed and groaned, but not with pleasure.

“You are hurt,” she said, and pulled away to look into his eyes.

“I’m alright,” he said, but she could still see the traces of the grimace on his face.

“Where are you hurt?” she asked.

He smiled a rueful smile. “Apparently everywhere. I felt fine before, but as the battle fever subsides, there is no part of me that does not strongly complain.”

“I have never known you to be so after a battle.”

“Nor have I been, but I have never before faced such an opponent.”

Nena nodded. “Are you too sore to...?”

Before she could finish, he cut her off. “Not so long as I draw breath,” he said with a determined grin. “Come.” He took her hand and led her the last few steps to the furs. As he knelt and began to pull her with him, he caught his breath and froze.

“Jarl?”

“I’m alright. Truly. Just give me a moment.” He flopped clumsily into the furs, moaned with pain, and then rolled over to face her, breathing hard. He smiled and shook his head. “This is embarrassing, and not at all how I planned our first night together as man and wife to be,” he admitted.

Nena had to laugh at the situation. How helpless he was. How hard he was trying to fight it. How strange it was to see him in that condition. Even more humorous was the pressure they both clearly felt about their first time together after so long being special.

“Laughing really doesn’t help,” he grunted, then he chuckled, too.

“Well, fortunately for you, you have a wife to take care of you now.” Nena knelt beside him. “You must lie still and let me make you more comfortable,” she said as she rearranged the furs behind his back. “Better?” she asked when she was through.

“Yes,” he said and nodded.

“No, something still doesn’t look right,” Nena murmured and looked him over with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “It’s your tunic. It looks very uncomfortable to me.” She