Page 52 of The Last Viking

“You’re not eating,” she commented, coming up to him finally. He noted that she maintained a good distance betwixt them, as if she thought he might pounce on her.

Mayhap he would.

“I would prefer to finish the meal you offered, then took away afore I had a chance to fully…ah, indulge.” His words brought a stain to Merry-Death’s cheeks, which amazed him after her uninhibited display such a short time ago.

“Well, that was a—” she gulped—“mistake. Not to be repeated.”

He laughed, causing several students, as well as Mike and Thea, to glance their way. For her ears only, he whispered, “Nay, not a mistake. And, for a certainty, to be repeated. Again and again and again. Except I intend to lead the loveplay in future. I intend to give the orders.”

“It seems to me you gave enough orders already,” she blurted out, and he could see she wished the words had never escaped her lips…lips that were still swollen and bruised from his kisses. That reminded him of how much he enjoyed kissing Merry-Death. The way she responded so readily. The ardor with which she returned his deep kisses. The kittenish purr she emitted when—

“Stop that! Stop it right now!”

“What?” His forehead furrowed with puzzlement.

“Looking at my mouth like…like…”

He arched a brow. “Like a hungry man?”

She moaned. “Rolf, this is serious.”

“Yea, ’tis.”

“No, I mean we have to behave in a more serious, professional manner. I came home from the office today to talk to you about our differences over the project, and instead—”

“Instead you enticed me with your harlot hose. ’Tis how women throughout the ages have attempted to settle differences with their menfolk. Tsk-tsk! Somehow, I expected more of you, being a professional woman and all.”

“I did not entice you,” she snapped indignantly. “You’re the one who assaulted me. No wonder you Vikings have a reputation for raping and pillaging. It must come naturally.”

“Assault? Do you say I assaulted you? Is that what you called it when you moaned your need into my mouth? When your green eyes turned molten with appeal? When you locked your warrior thighs about my hips and knocked me to the floor?”

“Warrior thighs? Warrior thighs?” she sputtered, shoving a palm into his chest, and then immediately stepped back when she saw the students gaping at them.

“Ah, you misread me, wench. Warrior thighs are an asset for a woman. Better to clench man and horse alike.”

“Aaarrgh!”

“Your nipples are peaking.”

She looked down in horror, then cast him a disparaging scowl when she realized he could see nothing beneath the huge shert. “They are not.”

“Mayhap I am mistaken.”

“Mayhap your brain is lodged between your legs.”

He grinned. “For a certainty.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Yea. ’Tis one of the things women love about me.”

“Do all Vikings have overinflated egos?”

He pulled a face at her. “You confuse self-importance with self-confidence.”

“Are you going to take over the project again?”

“Are we changing the subject?” He laughed.