Page 36 of The Outlaw Viking

Who are you to cast stones? the voice in Rain’s head asked. She closed her eyes wearily, fearing that she wavered on the brink of some kind of nervous breakdown.

There is good in every man, if you will only look.

Rain’s mind reeled with confusion. This whole time-travel experience was probably just a figment of her imagination. She was probably sitting in some Monty Python-type mental institution in a straight jacket. With a Jack Nicholson-type psychiatrist at hand. Yes, it made sense. All this Viking stuff was just a fantasy. No, a nightmare. She put a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle of hysteria.

Selik snorted with disgust at her oddly timed amusement, and she shot him a glare of what she hoped was an equal dose of disgust. Then she started to walk past him back to the line of captives. She needed to get away from the barbarian to think.

Selik grabbed her by the upper arm as she passed, stopping her. “Where do you think you are going?”

“Don’t…touch…me,” she gritted out with evenly spaced words. “Don’t…ever…touch…me…again.”

He released her arm and backed off a bit. Muscles tensed in his jutting jaw, and he said in a steely voice, “Hostages do not give orders.”

Rain shrugged dejectedly. “I was a fool to think I was anything more. I was a fool to think I could change you.”

Oh, ye of little faith!

“Stop it,” she cried out, putting a hand to her aching head while clutching the ends of the fur together with the other hand.

“Stop what?”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” she snapped. “It’s the damn voice in my head.”

Selik almost looked amused, but the smile never reached his cold, cold eyes. “God again?”

“Yes. No. Oh, I don’t know. It’s probably just my conscience or something.”

“Save your conscience for someone who cares,” he commented contemptuously. “Or someone who is redeemable. I am not.”

“Oh, be quiet. Can’t you see I’ve had enough for one day?” Deliberately ignoring him, she began to walk toward the captives, then stopped suddenly and headed toward Selik’s tent. She’d just realized that she needed warmer clothing.

As she picked her way over the cold ground in her bare feet, she muttered, “Criminey! I’ll be the only doctor in the world with callouses on the soles of my feet.”

A short time later, she was rooting through one of Selik’s chests, looking for a tunic and leggings—braies, Selik called them—to wear until her clothing dried, when she looked up and saw him leaning against the tent opening, still eye-bulgingly, heart-stoppingly, gloriously nude.

Rain barely suppressed a groan. Give me a break, God. You don’t play fair.

“Thievery now?” he asked dryly, looking at his garments in her hands.

“I need some warm clothing. You may be impervious to the cold, but I’m not going to sleep buck-naked out there on the cold ground.”

“You are right. You are not going to sleep on the cold ground out there.”

When the implication of his words sunk in, Rain twisted her head and looked up at him in disbelief. “You can’t possibly think I would sleep with you now. Have you any idea how you repel me? In fact, I repel myself for allowing your hands to touch me so intimately when—when—” She sputtered, unable to come up with words to describe his atrocities. Finally, she explained with a tired shrug, “I feel defiled.”

Rain saw his jaw clench tightly, but his eyes betrayed no emotion. “Defiled or not, you share my bed furs.”

She stood angrily, holding her fur together with one hand and a tunic and pair of leggings in the other.

He held up a hand to silence her. “Nay, do not think to defy me on this. And, know this, wench, I have no desire to rut with you this night. But if the urge ever hits me in a moment of madness, it will be my decision to make, not yours.”

“Then it would be rape. But why should that bother you, beast that you are? It’s just one more sin to add to your list, and a minor one, I daresay, in light of your other atrocities.”

He shrugged dismissively.

“Oh!” she finally said in exasperation, knowing it was useless to argue with the unbending brute. “Just turn around so I can dress.”

He did not move a muscle, just stared back at her insolently. “Nay, you will follow the Norse manner. We do not wear clothing in bed. You may wear my garments in the morn, but not in the bed furs.”