The Reluctant Viking Page 18

  Palm to palm, he held her hands pressed to the bed above her head, then levered himself up slightly. He moved his body from side to side across her, back and forth, the coarse wool of his tunic-covered chest brushing her T-shirt-clad breasts, the hardness of his manhood caressing the dream-sensitized vee of her thighs. She arched involuntarily, and Thork gasped out, "Oh, yea, sweetling! You do that so nice."

  He deftly maneuvered his thighs between hers, then shifted so he lay firmly against her jean-clad center. In an age-old dance of lift, then touch, lift, then touch, Thork undulated against her mercilessly. Meanwhile, his tongue set a matching pattern in her mouth. She tried to moan her protest, but only managed to open her mouth wider for his plundering kiss.

  Unable to utter her protests aloud, Ruby soon gave up, a soaring passion overtaking her. Lost between two worlds, Ruby wasn't sure if the crackling noise under her was straw or autumn leaves. Or whether it was Jack or Thork. Perhaps they were one and the same. She couldn't think anymore. She didn't want to think.

  Lost in a time warp, Ruby keened her anguish and fevered wanting into his open mouth. "Oh, Jack! I love you so much!"

  Thork pulled back abruptly and stared at her in disbelief—a hurt, questioning expression shadowing his passion-glazed eyes. Then he muttered an obscenity. Ruby couldn't stop looking at his lips, which she'd bruised deliciously with her kisses.

  Oh, my God! She wanted him so badly! Thork, Jack, whoever he was—it didn't matter.

  "Jack! You called me Jack," Thork accused, stabbing her murderously with blue eyes still hazy with desire. "Do you think of another man when you yield to me?"

  Ruby licked her lips nervously, trying to think of a way to explain once again that he and Jack were the same man to her. She never got a chance to answer as Dar rushed breathlessly into the room.

  "What goes here? It sounded like the whole bloody keep was falling down."

  Following him were Aud, Olaf, Gyda, the girls and a dozen others, including Linette.

  Embarrassed, Ruby tried to shift from under Thork, but the stubborn Viking refused. Ruby smiled involuntarily, though, in a pure, unadulterated gloat at the sight of the Black Widow glaring at her in Thork's arms.

  Thork rolled to his side, still holding her in his arms, his arousal pressing disconcertingly into her thigh.

  "What happened? Did she attack you?" an outraged Linette asked, pushing her way to the front of the group.

  "Nay, I tripped and fell onto the pallet," Thork explained dryly, pulling a sheet discreetly over his middle.

  "On top of the wench?" Olaf scoffed.

  "Shush, Olaf," Gyda whispered loudly, elbowing him to behave.

  Dar snickered as he shooed everyone back downstairs to the hall where the loud noises had been heard. He shook his head in disgust at the sight of the two of them on the broken bed before extending a hand to Ruby, then Thork.

  "Methinks the mischievous Loki is having a grand laugh over you," Dar commented dryly, looking pointedly at Thork's crotch. "Mayhap you two deserve each other, after all." He pulled at his lower lip thoughtfully and his eyes narrowed slyly at Ruby. "Is there any chance you truly are related to Hrolf, or that mayhap he would dower you in marriage?"

  "No!" Thork bellowed. "Do not think it! Never will I marry, and leastways not to this sorry wench!" Obviously, he'd managed to overcome his bout of passion for her.

  "Hold it here," Ruby intervened. To Dar she said, "Yes, I am truly related to Hrolf, and, no, I am not, nor ever will be, an heiress. Forget any ambitious plans you may be concocting in that direction."

  Dar pretended mock offense.

  To Thork Ruby snapped haughtily, "As for this 'sorry wench,' she doesn't want you any more than you want her. You and that oversexed spider can live happily ever after, for all I care."

  So why did the thought bother her so much? Why did her eyes linger on the well-developed muscles in his forearms and thighs as he brushed away pieces of the clinging straw?

  And buns! He had the cutest backside she'd seen outside of a magazine centerfold, Ruby thought irrelevantly as she watched him stride out of the room. Boy, could she picture him in a pair of tight jeans!

  Ruby realized then that Dar watched her closely and seemed to know just what part of Thork's anatomy she'd been ogling. With a knowing grin, he raised a hand to halt her next words.

  "Do not think to deny what I just witnessed. An old man I may be, but not yet in my dotage when it comes to recognizing that certain look in a woman's eye." Chuckling, he bid her follow him downstairs, where the servant Ella had been given permission by Thork to take her to a nearby pond for a bath—under guard, of course. Wonderful! How did Thork know she craved a bath? Probably because she stank like a pig after three days without soap and water.

  "Dar, am I no longer under suspicion now that the hesir confessed to spying for Ivar?"

  "Nay. We still trust you not. 'Tis even possible that the spy worked with you, though I misdoubt it. 'Twill be for the Althing to decide."

  "Do you really believe I could be a spy?"

  "A stranger in our lands who cannot account for her background is suspicious enough in times when danger lurks in every corner. Not only must Thork worry about the danger from his half-brother Eric or from enemies who would kidnap those he cherishes for ransom, but the Saxons merely bide their time until the right moment for attack.

  "Then you made matters even worse with that birth-control nonsense you introduced to the women. Thor's blood! 'Twas a stupid move on your part if you are, in truth, a spy."

  "I've tried to tell the truth, but no one believes me."

  "Tell me naught of the future again, lass. I will hear naught of it. Take care, though. I tell you true—the only thing that will save you at the Althing is protection by a powerful Viking man. Since that appears nigh impossible at this point, you best pray to that Christian God of yours that they believe you are kin to Hrolf."

  Dar's words of warning remained with Ruby as she and Ella walked to the pond just beyond the manor keep, followed by Vigi who looked left and right for possible intruders.

  "By the saints, I ne'er thought to see you alive after you went to the tower," Ella exclaimed as soon as they were out the manor doors. I heard once that a sorceress can put a spell on people so they gotta do her will. That mus' be it. A sorceress you are. How else could you have escaped bein' kilt so many a time?"

  "Oh, good heavens, Rhoda... I mean, Ella, don't even think to mention the name sorceress in connection with me, or they really will kill me, especially that Sigtrygg."

  Chapter Eleven

  The spring-fed pond nestled in a secluded little oasis, hidden from the keep by a strand of trees. The bossy Ella ordered Vigi to go to the edge of the clearing and make sure he kept his back turned. Then she perched on a flat boulder, refusing to enter the water with Ruby.

  "Are you daft? There was a girl onct who took too many baths and her skin shriveled up so bad it never got smooth agin. 'Tis not good to be so clean, poisons the blood, it does. Why, I even..."

  Ruby let Ella ramble on as she lingered almost an hour in the soothing water. She scrubbed her hair and body over and over to remove the grime.

  The servants were setting up the evening meal when Ruby returned to the manor. Aud told her that the tower room had been cleaned for her continued use but that she would be expected downstairs in the hall for dinner.

  "Where are Eirik and Tykir?" Ruby asked, suddenly realizing she hadn't seen them since their arrival here several days ago, not even in the hall at mealtimes.

  "In the stables," Aud replied. "They sleep there and eat in the kitchen with the servants."

  "But how can you stand to see your own grandsons live such a life?"

  For a split second, Aud's composure weakened, but then she straightened. "Do not think to question what is naught of your affair." She walked straight-backed to the kitchen area, summoning Ella to follow her.

  Ruby decided to seek out the boys before the evening meal. Vigi foll
owed but didn't try to stop her. Cold, suspicious eyes followed Ruby wherever she walked. The hesirs, bonders, freedmen and even thralls, who worked diligently at assigned tasks, would clearly kill her on the spot if given the choice. The spy's confession had done nothing to lessen her guilt in their eyes.

  Ruby entered the stable, where she eventually found Tykir grooming a gray pony.

  "Hello, Tykir."

  "Ruby!" At first, Tykir's eyes lighted up with welcome, but then he shadowed them carefully. Even he must have been told to distrust the strange woman who might be the enemy.

  "What is your horse's name?"

  "He has none." Tykir looked surprised. "Should he have?"

  "Well, not everybody names their horse, but I thought since this one seems so special to you it ought to have a name."

  "Could we name him?" he asked shyly.

  "Of course. Can you think of any names that you like?" He shook his head sadly, as if he must be lacking in some important way.

  "Well, my boys never had a horse—"

  "They never had a horse? Ever?" To Tykir, that appeared to be the ultimate loss in the world.

  "Never, but they had pet dogs. Let me think. Over the years, there were Rover, Morris, Nellie and Elvis."

  "Elvis," Tykir whispered in awe. " 'Tis a wondrously fine name, think you not?"

  Oh, no! This was one place Elvis followers would never expect a sighting, Ruby thought, stifling a laugh. Tykir's emotions were so open and vulnerable. The little stinker looked as if he hadn't bathed in days. His blond hair, so like his father's, stuck out in greasy spikes as he gazed hopefully up at her. Ruby felt her heart expand and fill with warmth. How could Thork and Dar and Aud bear to neglect such a dear little soul?

  "I think Elvis would be a wonderful name," she declared, and was rewarded with a grateful smile.

  "Why is your hair wet?" Tykir asked.

  "I was swimming in the pond. Have you been there?"

  He nodded. "But I cannot swim. Father... I mean, Thork... is gonna teach me someday, but he mus' go Jomsviking soon." He raised his chin defiantly, his voice quivering with unshed tears "Someday I will be a Jomsviking, too. Then I kin be with my... with Thork... as much as I want."

  One more bone Ruby had to pick with Thork, she thought. "Does Eirik want to be a Jomsviking also?"

  "Nay, he dreams of being a fosterling at the Saxon court, like Uncle Haakon, who is of the same age," Tykir said with distaste, scrunching up his nose. "He sez we Vikings mus' learn the Saxon way to survive in their lands." Tykir blushed and looked down sheepishly then, as if he knew he'd said too much.

  "Does his father know of this wish?"

  "Nay, Eirik could ne'er tell him that."

  This whole situation of separating parent and child was ridiculous, in Ruby's opinion. No, more than that, it was destructive, and she vowed to do something about it. Ruby knew she would have to employ tact in persuading Thork to act the true father to his sons—even if it meant giving up his precious Jomsviking oath, even if it meant moving to a new land. Even if it meant Thork's taking her with him—if that's what it would take to escape this dangerous nightmare, Ruby vowed.

  But Ruby became increasingly alarmed the next few days as the Althing approached and Thork accelerated his activities related to his departure for Jomsborg. What would happen to her at the Viking-style court? If the venomous looks she got from Dar's knights and workers were any indication, her fate loomed bleak. All free males in Northumbria, including these very men, could vote at the open-air assembly.

  Well, if no one else was going to help her, she would have to take matters in hand herself, but first she needed a plan. Not just any plan. It had to be the ultimate, sure-fire master plan—the mother of all plans.

  Thork will have to marry me.

  It was the only way. If he married her, none of the Vikings would dare harm her, and she could make a home for Eirik and Tykir. She had no other choice. So, finally, she settled on a three-part strategy: persuasion, seduction and/or force, in that order. She hoped the last would not be necessary. Actually, she hadn't even thought that far.

  Ruby decided to enlist Ella in her plot.

  " 'Tis barmy ya are! I told ya that the first day I saw ya at the docks," Ella exclaimed, trying to slink away. "Mebbe ya got worms in yer head. That be it, I wager! Most folks has worms in their guts from eating maggoty food, but they unleashes them from their nether ends in the garderobe. The barmy ones, like you, well, the worms crawl up inta their heads and make 'em go mad. Onct I even heard 'bout a man whose worms crawled out his ears and—"

  "No, no, no! I'm not crazy. Can't you see that marriage with Thork would protect me from these vicious Vikings who'd just as soon have my head on a pike?"

  Ella shook her head dubiously.

  "Eirik and Tykir need a family. Maybe we could all move to another country where there would be no danger. Perhaps you could even come with us."

  A spark of interest showed in Ella's eyes. "Where? What country?"

  Ruby hesitated. "Well, how about Iceland? I've heard some of the Vikings talk about emigrating to that new land."

  "Iceland!" Ella exclaimed, preparing to walk off in a huff. "You are barmy! Freeze my arse off in some land of rebels and outlaws! When frogs fly, mebbe!"

  Ruby shrugged hopelessly. "Actually, I was hoping such a drastic move might jolt me back to the future."

  "Oh, that be just wunnerful! You get us all to that Godforsaken country and then you just skip off to yer own pleasures. What do I do then? Chip icicles off the boys' noses fer fun? Or play hidey-hole with the whales and seals?"

  "Ella, this really isn't a bad plan," Ruby asserted, trying hard not to laugh.

  "Seems ta me yer fergettin sumpin important here," Ella offered sagely. "Thork avoids ya like the bloody flux these three days past, eber since that day you two rolled aroun' in the straw in yer tower room."

  "We were not... oh, what's the use. Can't you see that he's afraid of commitment to me? And he fears—

  "Hah!" Ella interrupted with a snort. "He does not seem too concerned 'bout committin' wid Linette. She be all over him like honey on a hot rock, and the thrall Eda what cleans his chamber sez they go at it all night long. Linette's moanin' and groanin' kin be heard all the way down to the hall."

  "Really, Ella, must you always repeat gossip? I don't want to hear this." No, she really did not want to know intimate details about Thork, Ruby thought jealously.

  "Mebbe ya better hear it. Mebbe ya better realize that ta make yer plan work ya gotta step over Linette first." Ella looked Ruby over critically, obviously doubting her ability to entice Thork away from the Viking widow. Turning to leave, Ella offered a tantalizing teaser over her shoulder, "Ya do know 'bout the 'sickness' Linette has, dontja?"

  "What sickness?" Ruby had never seen a healthier-looking woman in her life.

  "She cannot get enough of... you know."

  "What?"

  "You know, the man's parts betwixt her legs."

  "Oh, Ella! How can you say such things?" Despite herself, Ruby giggled.

  " 'Tis the truth, I swear. Everyone in the keep knows of it, most from having been there, I wager. Many's the time the master and mistress speak on it of late and how they best hurry and marry her off afore no respectable-like Viking will have her."

  A nymphomaniac! Could it be true? No way! Ruby shook her head in doubt on the way back to the keep as the ditzy servant sashayed in front of her, self-satisfied with her latest imparting of rumors.

  Ruby soon found her master plan easier to formulate than to enact. The only time she got to see Thork was at the evening meal, where Linette wrapped herself around him like cotton candy. And just as sickeningly sweet! Thork must be back in his "Avoid Ruby" mode. Hadn't he said earlier that she put stumbling blocks in his Jomsviking activities.

  Hah! Hold on, Thork, I've got a few boulders coming your way.

  It rankled Ruby, however, to think she'd have to deliberately seduce Thork into marriage, especia
lly when his arrogance and cold-blooded killings repelled her. She refused to think about that other side of him that drew her enticingly, that reminded her of Jack and all the good things they'd shared. Worst of all, Ruby wasn't exactly sure how to seduce a man. Jack was the only man she'd ever been with—literally—and he'd always been the pursuer.

  Late the next afternoon, she enlisted Ella's aid. "Try to lure Vigi away from me for a little while so I can slip into Thork's room. Do you think you could do that?"

  " 'Twill never work," Ella grumbled as she went off to do as Ruby bid. "Bloody flux! I must be as barmy as she is. Prob'ly get my head chopped off, too."

  Ruby stealthily opened Thork's door, first looking right and left to make sure no one saw her. Luckily, Thork was alone.

  He stood with knees bent to bring his face level with a sheet of metal on the wall above a small table. Barefoot and bare-chested, he was shaving the lather off his face with a sharp knife. Ruby took one look at his pants riding low on his slim hips, and her mouth suddenly went dry.

  "Thork, I have to talk to you," she croaked out.

  Caught off guard, Thork jumped and the knife cut his face. Blood immediately oozed out against the white lather. "Holy Valhalla! What do you here, jumping out of corners?" His eyes narrowed. "And where the hell's Vigi?"

  "Now, Thork, don't get mad at Vigi. I needed to talk to you, and you keep avoiding me." Ruby wrung her hands nervously, not certain how to launch her mission.

  Thork turned his back on her to resume his shaving. "Go away, wench," he growled through lips pressed together to accommodate his shaving. "We have naught to discuss."

  Ruby moved to the side so she could see him better. Entranced, she watched as he puffed out his cheek and slid the razor in a smooth furrow through the lather. Lord! The urge to touch his skin was overpowering. "Do you want me to do that for you?" she offered weakly.

  Thork arched his eyebrows at her, feigning horror. "You with a knife at my throat? Hah! The image makes my skin crawl." He slanted an amused glance her way and shook his head despairingly. "Do I look like a lackwit?" Then quickly, without waiting for a reply, "Do not answer that!"