Page 12 of My Fair Viking

"I am so sorry I have no sweetmeats to tempt your palate."

"Sarcasm ill suits you, m'lady. Do you not have some enemy to go bedevil, lop off a head or two, or something equally unfeminine, and leave innocents like me free of your word barbs?"

"Innocent? You? Methinks you were not innocent even when you came squalling from your mother's womb." She sniffed the air around him then and remarked bluntly, "You need a bath, my healer friend. I cannot fathom why you will not bathe along the shore in the evenings with my men."

"I am not going into any body of water with my arms and legs tied."

"Perchance you would like me to remove your garments now so Rafn can hang you over the side with a rope till the currents wash you clean… let us say for an hour or so. What say you to that?"

She was probably teasing.

But then again, she might be serious. He remembered vividly the morning's events and the ill-fated pirate she'd chopped in the neck with her broadsword.

"I am not a bloodthirsty man," he said evenly, "but it becomes increasingly clear to me that I am going to have to kill you."

She laughed… she actually threw her head back and laughed at him, exposing white teeth and a mouth that was big enough to… well, suffice it to say, it was big enough. In deference to today's heat, she had forgone her cloak and tunic. Instead, she wore only a short-sleeved mail shert over tight leggings tucked into leather half-boots. But Adam was too angry now to admire the jut of her breasts or the taper of her waist.

He sniffed in an exaggerated fashion, mimicking her. "Come to think on it, you are a mite rank yourself. That no doubt is why you scratch so much. Wouldst consider letting me remove your garments? We could both hang over the side together. I know, I know…" he said, as if suddenly inspired. "I will wash your back"—and other places—"if you will wash mine."

"For a healer, you are not all that bright, are you?" Her eyes swept over him meaningfully from wind-blown, salt-lank hair to booted toes. "You are hardly in a position to harm even a flea, rope-bound as you are." It appeared she was going to ignore his naked-hanging-over-the-side-washing-backs business. But her pinkened cheeks indicated that his comment had had its desired effect.

"I will not always be bound."

"Ah, so you are saying that the moment you are re-teased, you will attempt to kill me? See, I was right when I said it would be unwise to untie you. But, truly, dost think it wise to give me fair warning?"

He shook his head. "Nay, I will not kill you immediately." He let his eyes sweep over her body now, just as hers had done to him. "I have other plans for you first. And the longer I stand here tied to this bloody pole, the more detailed my fantasies become."

"Oh?" Clearly interested, she put her hands on her hips, her legs widespread to balance herself on the moving ship.

Oh, yea, really detailed. Keep standing like that and give me more ideas. "First, I intend to tup you till your toenails curl."

She gasped. His remark had caught her off guard.

It had caught him off guard, too. Who knew he was going to say such a thing?

"Then I will tup you again till your eyes roll up into your head." My tongue seems to have developed a mind of its own.

She regained her composure and glared at him, almost as if to make sure her eyes weren't rolling. "Has the sea air turned you barmy?"

"And then I will make love to you again and again till you beg for more. That should take, oh, a sennight or two… or five. I cannot wait. How about you?" Mayhap Rashid's flapping tongue has rubbed off on me.

"Pffff! You overstep yourself, Saxon, to speak thus to me. The only thing bigger than your nerve is your ego."

"Or something else." He glanced significantly downward.

She did not answer. In truth, she could not answer, for her mouth was hanging open. With shock or interest, he could not say, but either possibility marked success to his mind.

"Then… and only then… will I kill you," he concluded, and grinned mirthlessly at her.

She stared at him, pondering all he had said. After a while, her hand moved through the air in a gesture of unconcern. "You'd have to catch me first."

"Oh, m'lady, you should see me run."

Tapping her foot with exasperation, she bared her teeth and nigh growled at him. "Dost think you are man enough?"

He wasn't sure if she referred to the tupping or the running. Either way, he knew the answer. "I know I am."

She swiveled on her heel and stomped away from him, muttering something about coarse, dirty-minded oafs. But he could tell that he had disconcerted her, which had been his goal. He'd been trained as a soldier as well as a physician. After all, he'd been raised in a Viking household. She was not the only one well versed in the strategies of battle.