Page 97 of The Last Viking

Now that was a love declaration for the poetry books. And the heart. Love and Oreos.

Really, she thought, you gotta love a Viking.

Chapter Seventeen

For the next three weeks, their love blossomed and unfurled like the sails on the Viking longship that neared completion in her yard.

Meredith had never been so happy in all her life, or so miserable. She often awakened in the middle of the night and wept silent tears, knowing the sands of her happiness were slowly sifting away.

She didn’t question his decision to leave anymore. In a way, she understood. But she didn’t want to put a damper on the little time they had left, so Meredith tried to put on a cheerful face even as she was self-destructing inside. With increasingly exposed nerves, she walked a tightrope whenever in Rolf’s company.

“Was I wrong to have forced you into this?” Rolf asked as he pulled her closer into the cradle of his arms. They were lying side by side on the sofa. Thea had gone to the mall for some Sunday afternoon hanging-out with girlfriends she’d met in the neighborhood. Dog snored contentedly in the corner on his very own bed furs.

“Watching the zillionth episode of Home Improvement? Yes, you were wrong. Tsk-tsk,” she tutted, pointing at the TV screen where Tim Taylor was explaining to his wife Jill why big breasts were God-given male magnets.

“Not that,” Rolf chuckled, and then turned serious. “Was I wrong to force you into marrying me? Was I wrong to force you into sharing these last weeks together, knowing we had no future?” He took her chin in hand so that she had to meet his gaze. “Mike speaks often of the pain of losing his wife, even after two years, but he says that having her, for even a short time, was a blessing, something he would ne’er regret. I thought…well, I thought ’twould be the same for us. Now I wonder, though, if I erred in judgment.”

Meredith stiffened and would have bolted if she weren’t trapped against the back of the sofa. Rolf was going to insist on the conversation she’d been avoiding for weeks, ever since their marriage.

He saw her panic and soothed her by gently stroking wisps of hair off her face. The loving concern in his golden eyes tore at her heart strings and brought tears to her eyes.

“Don’t, sweetling. Don’t,” he coaxed hoarsely, kissing her eyelids closed.

“No, you weren’t wrong, Rolf,” she confessed with a sigh of resignation. “I wouldn’t have traded these wonderful weeks with you for anything. Marrying you—” she gulped to get the words past the huge lump in her throat “—marrying you was the best thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“’Tis the same for me, dearling. Sometimes…sometimes—” He fought for the right words. “It’s as if I have so much caring for you here that my heart nigh bursts.” To demonstrate, he put her palm against his chest, where his heart thudded under her fingertips. “I ne’er imagined loving a woman—really loving a woman—would feel like this.”

She couldn’t have spoken if she’d tried.

Rolf continued. “Time races so fast these days. I even unplugged your wall clock in the scullery yester-morn. ’Twas lackwitted, I know, to play such games with myself, as if I could stop time.” He shook his head sadly at his whimsy. “At night, I lie awake looking at you as you sleep. I have this overpowering urge to grasp each moment…to store the memories.”

“Hah!” she said, trying to lighten Rolf’s sober mood, though his words touched her deeply. “You probably just needed a breather between bouts of making love. You are insatiable, you know?”

“Do you complain, my lady?” he grumbled with mock ferociousness, arching a brow.

Even though he jested, it amazed Meredith how vulnerable he was and how much reassurance he needed all the time. Despite their vast differences, they were alike in that regard.

“Not in the least,” she answered, blinking back tears as she traced the line of his strong jaw with her fingertips.

“Well, I should hope not,” he said huffily, leaning down to take a chastising nip at her exposed shoulder. She was wearing only the pink teddy, and Rolf a pair of white boxer shorts covered with red hearts—a post-wedding gift. “Especially since I shared with you the secret of the famous Viking S-spot, which even you agreed was far superior to your modern G-spot.”

She laughed and jabbed him playfully in the ribs. How many times these past precious days had they made each other smile in the midst of making love? Meredith had never realized that sex could be so much fun. “You’ve spoiled me, Rolf. I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied with any other man now.”

His face went somber again. “I feel the same, heartling.”

“You’ll probably be boating right off to Sweet Alyce the Slut the minute you get home.” She’d intended her tone to be teasing, but her voice broke at the end.

“Nay, I’ll not be seeing Alyce again. That I vow to you.”

“Oh, Rolf, don’t make me promises like that. I don’t expect you to be celibate for the rest of your life. It will be hard for me when you go—very hard—but—”

“Shhh,” he said, kissing her lips lightly. “I wish I could spare you the pain. If I could stay, I would. If I had not made an oath to my father—”

“No,” she said, putting two fingertips to his lips. “You can’t stay. I know that now. There’s no sense playing the ‘what-if’ game. You’d become like a caged animal in a contemporary setting, always pretending, always lying for fear someone would connect the dots of all your strange words and perspectives on history.”

“Do you say I could not adapt?” he asked, bristling.

She shook her head at his pride. “Oh, you might change, adapt to these times, lose your primitive, Viking identity. That would be nice for me…a way to keep you here, but—”