Page 75 of The Last Viking

She edged away from him with a sidelong glance of trepidation. One never knew what this Viking would do. The last time he’d decided to punish her for some transgression—probably snickering at a remark Tim Allen made on his moronic show—he’d tickled her till she giggled like a school girl, then caressed her till she’d felt…well, not like a school girl.

“I need to take a shower. Mayhap you should drek me, like a slave girl.”

That’s a punishment? “No way!”

“Why do you resist me so, Merry-Death? You say you love me.”

“I do,” she said wearily. “Rolf, we’ve been down this road before, and we always hit the same pothole. Either you stay, or I go with you.”

“’Tis impossible.”

“Then, I will not marry you.”

“Stubborn wench,” he muttered with disgruntled resignation.

But she knew he hadn’t given up. Not by a Viking longshot.

“Your sister called an hour past,” he informed her as he rummaged through the sacks till he found what he’d been searching for. Oreos. If he stuck around much longer, Meredith was going to buy stock in Nabisco.

“I’m not surprised. She called me three times today at the office. She’s persistent, if nothing else.” Jillie was obsessed with Rolf’s belt ornament and arm rings. She was trying to convince him to lend them to her for testing through the Metropolitan Museum in New York where she was now. In fact, Meredith suspected she was meeting with publishers there as well, lining up book deals, expecting Rolf to give her enough material to fill its pages. In one of their conversations, Jillie had let slip a tentative title, The Last Viking.

“I know she’s your sister, sweetling, but she’s becoming tiresome. I but wish to build my ships and spend my remaining time with you.”

“Just ignore her.”

“Hah! Her bothersome pestering has passed the bounds of my endurance. I am loath to offend any member of your family, but I must tell you, I hung up on her this time, blood kin or no.”

“Good for you!” she congratulated him, and then added with a self-conscious grin, “So did I.”

“You did?” Rolf seemed inordinately thrilled at such a monumental discourtesy on her part. He was always telling her to be more assertive, to stop trying to please everyone. Well, she’d taken the first step today, and it felt darn good.

“Would you stop doing that?” she grumbled. Rolf had separated the Oreo cookie into two halves and was licking the icing off with slow pleasure. You’d think it was an erotic experience for him. Maybe it was.

“What?” He peered up at her, all innocence, but then his tongue took one more long swipe, and his golden brown eyes danced merrily. He was doing it on purpose. Before she could berate him, he said, “I have another bride gift for you.”

She groaned. “I will not marry you.”

“Whate’er you say, dearling.”

While Rolf went outside to get the bride gift—the man didn’t listen to her at all—the phone rang. She went to answer it in the living room, where Rolf had considerately started a cozy fire for her. Probably because he planned a cozy seduction. Picking up the phone, she hoped it wasn’t Jillie again, or her parents, who still planned to arrive tomorrow afternoon. Oh, joy!

“Hello,” she said with mock cheerfulness.

“Hello, is that you Meredith?”

She froze with shock. Jeffrey?

“Meredith, are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here. What do you want, Jeffrey?”

“Well, you don’t have to be rude,” he griped, reducing her to a child who’d never learned proper manners. “I thought we had an amicable divorce. I thought we were still friends.”

Friends? Amicable? Divorced men must live in another world. “Great hearing from you, Jeffrey! How’s the family? What do you want?” she said snidely.

“I was thinking of taking a drive up to Maine and—”

“No!” she shouted in panic. But then she worried that it might sound as if she still cared for him. In the words of Thea, As if! She took care to modulate her voice as she went on. “Why would you want to come to Maine? You always hated it here when we were married. Too rustic for your tastes, you said.”