Page 65 of The Outlaw Viking

Rain’s eyes shot to Selik, who studiously ignored her as he led his horse toward the barn, but any sharp words she wanted to address to him were forestalled by the arrival of the most gorgeous young woman Rain had ever seen in all her life.

“Selik!” the fair-haired beauty, about seventeen years old, shrieked in welcome before throwing herself enthusiastically into Selik’s open arms. He swung her around up off the ground in a circle while he hugged her with equal zest.

The jerk!

“Tyra,” he exclaimed admiringly when he finally put her back down and scrutinized her boldly from her strawberry-blond head, to voluptuously rounded breasts, to a tiny waist and narrow hips, to her disgustingly dainty little slippers. “You have grown into a woman in my absence. A very beautiful woman.”

Tyra put one delicate hand on his chest, slanting a sultry look up at him through sickeningly long lashes, and announced, “Then ’tis past time for our wedding.”

Chapter Ten

“You little minx,” Selik exclaimed against Tyra’s luxuriant hair on hearing her outrageous remark. He laughed and gave her an extra squeeze before putting her back on her feet with a swat on her saucy behind.

He looked up then and stopped short at the look of stunned surprise—and hurt—on Rain’s face. Puzzled, he tilted his head, then realized that Rain must have heard Tyra’s remark about a wedding and assumed he had pledged troth with the young maid. Holy Thor! Tyra was like a sister to him. ’Twas obvious to anyone with eyes in their heads.

But not to Rain, he saw immediately. She bit her trembling bottom lip and widened her eyes to dam the tears welling in their golden depths.

Instinctively, he started forward to tell Rain the truth, to wipe the look of pain from her features, to soothe her with sweet words of explanation. But he stopped himself. Mayhap Rain’s mistaken notion of his betrothal could work to his advantage. He had let this attraction between them go too far. By all the saints! He walked around half-hard all the time these days, barely escaping the notice of his men. Could he resist the temptation of her flesh much longer? He must, especially knowing now that he might leave her with child. Better the small pain now than the bigger one which would inevitably come.

He forced himself to turn away from Rain’s accusing stare. Leaning down to Tyra, whose head barely tipped his chin, he whispered loud enough for only her to hear, “Have a caution, wench. You have been saying that since you were only five and I a worldly man of eighteen. One of these days, I may take you up on your offer, and then what would you do?”

She flashed him a winsome smile and replied quickly, “Accept, of course.”

“Hah! So you say now, but what of all the suitors who beg for your hand?”

Selik knew Rain could hear none of their words from where she stood frozen in rigid pain, but she surely viewed the light banter betwixt them as love play. Even Ubbi scowled at him in silent condemnation.

Tyra played into the role perfectly. Pouting prettily, the spoiled imp put a fingertip to her chin as if pondering in all seriousness the notion of giving up all her suitors for him. “Hmmm. ’Tis something to consider.”

“Tyra! For shame!” Gyda intervened finally, shoving her daughter and Selik good-naturedly toward the house and motioning Rain and the others to follow.

Selik forced himself to stare straight ahead and not look back at Rain. He feared he would give in to his softer impulses and confess his charade. Anything to erase the pain he saw racking her at his supposed betrayal.

Betrayal! Now where did that thought come from? Selik wondered. He had no obligations toward the witch from some far-off land.

She saved your life.

“Yea, but I have more than made up for that by listening to her shrewish nagging, have I not?” Selik asked Ubbi.

“Huh?” Ubbi looked askance at him, as if he had suddenly grown two noses.

With forced patience, he explained, “You pointed out that Rain saved my life, and—”

“I did?”

“For certain you did.”

“When?”

“Just now.”

Ubbi looked skyward and smiled, then slanted a curious look his way. “What else did I say?”

Selik stopped short, hands on hips, and snarled in self-loathing at having allowed himself to be drawn into these hopeless conversations with Ubbi. Finally, he threw up his hands in disgust. “You said you were a horse, and I, the horse’s arse.”

“I never did!”

Selik slanted him a wry look. “No doubt you thought it, though.”