Page 58 of The Caged Viking

He batted his eyelashes and had the nerve to look offended. “I only did what you wanted.”

“What? Here’s a news flash, dumbbell. I never asked you to kidnap me.”

“You missay me, m’lady.” He did more of that I-am-unfairly-accused-innocent eyelash batting. “What I meant was, you said you needed time, I have given you time.” He smiled and raised his hands in a voilà! manner.

She screamed again, then barfed all over her gown.

“At least it’s you that got the barrage this time. Twice now, you have decorated my boots. I did not think you had anything left in your stomach.” At the look of outrage on her face, he added, “Not that I am complaining.”

She noticed then that Egil, who was manning the rudder, and Bjorn, who was reclining on a pile of furs nearby, along with the twenty or so rowers, were staring and listening to the exchange between her and Hauk, mostly with amusement. They thought her kidnapping was hilarious, no doubt, and not at all out of character for a Viking. Her rebellion entertained them, as well.

“Why am I tied up?” she asked.

“We had rough seas yestereve, and this being one of my smallest longships, thus light on the waves, not an attribute to be desired in a storm, well, I did not want to risk your falling overboard. Is that not considerate of me?”

“Release. Me. Now!” she demanded through gritted teeth.

“Are you going to hit me?” he asked with a teasing grin.

“As many times and as hard as I can.”

He pondered her reply, then nodded. “But first I must wash you off.”

Before she had a chance to tell him that she would do her own washing, he picked up a big wooden bucket and dumped several gallons of water all over the front of her gown.

“You…you…you…,” she sputtered. Glancing downward, she saw that her gown, which was already bedraggled thanks to God only knew what the past two days while she’d been drugged, was now sodden. And the wet fabric molded her body in ways that clearly aroused him. Good! Let him have a hard-on from here to Valhalla before he’ll get it anywhere near me again.

As he worked at the knots in her ropes, trying to hide the tent in his britches by standing behind her, she asked, “How many days is it since we left Winchester?”

“Two days. Another day and a half and we should see the Norselands. The gods have blessed us with good winds today.” Now that he mentioned it, she could see that the sailors were sitting on their sea chests which acted as benches positioned before each of the boat’s oarlocks, ten on each side, at ease. No rowing at the moment, with the red and white square sails unfurling in the wind.

“Two…two days?” she sputtered. “You’ve been drugging me for two days?”

“Only a little at a time,” he said. “I heeded your warning about using too much.”

“That was in regard to a seriously ill person, you idiot.”

“Oh.” He thought for a moment. “Do you think you are addicted already?”

She made a growling sound and rolled her eyes. Instead of hitting him once she was free, she put her hands on her hips and glared. “Turn this boat around and take me back to England. Now!”

“Nay.”

That was all. Just a refusal.

But then, he added, “Later, if you still want to return to your time, I will take you back.”

“How much later?”

“After the winter season.”

“Aaarrgh!” she said, doing a mental count in her head. This was only late July or August. That would mean eight months or so till spring. “And in the meantime…?”

“Perchance you will grow to love m…my castle.”

She could tell he was about to say love him, not his castle. Not that it made any difference. “Do you have a castle?”

“Nay, but you know what they say…every man’s home is his castle.” He grinned, pleased with himself.