Page 65 of The Last Viking

But she did.

“With all my heart, Viking. With all my heart.”

Chapter Twelve

Meredith reeled under the euphoria of her own words.

I love him. I can’t say why. I don’t know when it happened. But I do. I love him.

“I love you,” she whispered in wonder.

He stood and came around the table to take her into his arms. His fingertips gently cupped her face as he adored her with his eyes. “I love you, too, heartling.” The kiss he pressed lightly on her lips was soft and sweet and full of promise. She could tell he restrained himself from deepening the kiss or holding her more intimately. Why? Her mind swirled in confusion under his intense scrutiny.

But then she noticed the tears that filled his eyes. He swiped at them with a man’s embarrassment. “I ne’er expected love to feel like this. You make me tremble with so many new feelings. I want to scream my joy to Valhalla. And I want to weep with the exquisite pain.”

“Oh, Rolf.” There were no words adequate to express the depth of her emotion. “Let’s…let’s go somewhere private where I can show you how much I love you. I want…I need to make love with you, sweetheart.” She tried to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him close.

He groaned and, with a quick kiss, took her by the forearms and set her at arm’s length.

“What?” Oh, geez, is he going to reject me again? I don’t think I can take much more of this ping-ponging back and forth. Want you, want you not.

“Wipe away that wounded look, Merry-Death. Do not for one moment doubt my desire to mate with you.”

“But?” Meredith tried to sound angry but her voice came out wobbly with insecurity.

Rolf groaned again, and his jaw worked with a silent effort for control. “Come,” he said, leading her into the living room where he adjusted the sheets on the sofa. “Lie down.”

When she did, expecting him to join her, he instead tucked her in tightly up to the neck, arms bound at her sides. Alone. He was putting her to bed alone. Then he knelt on the floor beside her.

“Sweetling, please, I beg you, help me do this right.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Ah, but you did. Your eyes reproach me for being a rascal, which I am not. I am trying my best to follow the noble path.” He put up a halting hand when she started to protest. “Two days ago—nay, two hours ago—if you’d suggested we have a…what did you call it?…a fling, I would have been on you faster than lightning. And we would have enjoyed each other’s bodies. Immensely.”

“Then what’s the problem?” She moaned, trying to wriggle her arms out of her sheet strait-jacket to reach for him.

“Shhh. Behave yourself, wench.” He feathered a fleeting kiss across her lips and chuckled. “Did you feel the tingle?”

“I’m looking for a hell of a lot more than a tingle.”

“Tsk-tsk,” he teased. “A coarse tongue is uncomely in a Viking woman.”

She told him in one explicit expletive what he could do with his Viking women.

“Surely you know that I have no desire to do that with any woman but you at the moment. Patience, my love,” he cautioned with a smile, “though I must admit that your eagerness flatters my ego. No, no, no, do not turn willful on me now. And sticking out your tongue is another thing that is ill-favored in a Viking woman. Truly, you must learn to curb your waspish impulses.”

“Let…me…up…now,” she demanded.

“Nay. Lie still till I explain.”

“You are driving me crazy. Are we or are we not going to make love?”

“You must be crazed if you would ask that. Of course, we will make love. But not tonight.”

He had to subdue her then, bearing down on her shoulders. Otherwise, she would have slapped him silly. The man was turning her into a basket case.

Finally, she calmed down, and Rolf began again, “When we exchanged vows of love, it changed everything. Before, our coupling would have been a mere sating of lust. A form of ‘Love with a Hot Viking,’ as you once mentioned. Now, it will be much more. Lust, to be sure. ‘Love with a Hot Viking,’ to be absolutely sure. But, in addition to that, methinks love merits a different, more tender handling.”