Page 9 of The Outlaw Viking

“I will take you with me—for now—but heed me well, wench,” he said finally, “do you play me false, I will not hesitate to kill you.” Then he reached down and grabbed her by an elbow. With one rough motion, he swept her up into his arms, weightlessly, and held her snugly across his lap.

Rain rubbed her elbow in chagrin but decided not to push her luck by complaining. Holy cow! Aside from the unnecessary roughness, Rain marveled that Selik could have lifted her so easily. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had picked her up. She was too big. Wasn’t she?

“And do not wiggle your arse like you did afore,” Selik ordered insolently as the horse began to move. “Your bawdy games will gain you naught. Even if I had the time, I would not rut with such as you.”

Rain couldn’t remain silent this time. “Your arrogance revolts me. I have no interest whatsoever in making love with you.”

“Hah! Love has naught to do with mating. When a man feels the need to relieve himself betwixt a woman’s legs, ’tis rutting, pure and simple. Ofttimes ’tis simpler to do it himself.”

Rain’s upper lip curled with disgust, and she turned her eyes heavenward. “I pity you if you think of lovemaking as a bodily function.”

“In truth, ’tis much like pissing,” he persisted.

Rain detected a hint of humor in Selik’s voice and turned to look back at him as they rode. His blank face told nothing, but a slight twitch of his lips betrayed a barely suppressed grin.

“Humph! Well, you’re certainly different from the man my mother described. To hear her tell it, you had a reputation as a great lover.”

“What nonsense! Well, mayhap,” he admitted on second thought, “I did have wordfame as a lover once, but ’twas long ago.” He shrugged. “I no longer care.”

In spite of herself, Rain giggled. “You have no idea what a strange conversation this is for me. With my failure rate in sexual relationships, I’m no one to criticize.”

“What is your meaning? Failure rate? Do you not mate with your husband?”

“I’m not married.”

“Aaah.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I understand now. You are an unwed woman who ruts with men.”

“Hold it, buster. Don’t make any rash judgments. I’m not promiscuous, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I imply naught. ’Tis you who speak of bad ruttings with men to whom you are not wed.”

“I wish you’d stop using that ugly word.”

“Which word?”

“Rutting. Animals rut. If you can’t refer to it as making love, at least call it having sex.”

Selik laughed again, deep and throaty, and the sound rippled musically in Rain’s ears.

“Just how many men have you had sex with?” he asked with a chuckle, his arms tightening around her imperceptibly like a warm cocoon.

“That is none of your business.” Rain stiffened her back indignantly.

“Methinks you have had no man, wench, with that waspish tongue. No man would risk his male parts with its razor edge.”

Rain lifted her chin indignantly. “Don’t think that just because I’m—I’m tall, that no man has ever desired me.”

The brute made a small choking sound behind her neck. “Well, now you call it to my attention, you are rather…large. In truth, some men are put off by…largeness.”

Tell me about it.

“So, what of these few men who desired you?”

Geez! He had a one-track mind. Oh, what difference did it make, Rain decided. “When I was eighteen, I had a really bad sexual experience, an unfortunate one-night stand. In the past twelve years, I’ve had only two serious love affairs. They didn’t work out very well.”