Page 34 of My Fair Viking

Adam, for one, felt as if he'd been touched by the hand of God.

Whether Thorvald lived or died, and despite Adam's two-year absence from medicine and his vow never to practice again, he knew one thing without a doubt.

I am a physician.

Tyra found Adam on one of the ramparts of the castle.

He sat with his back against the outer wall and his face pressed against his arms, which were folded over his raised knees. She had no idea whether he slept, or wept, or both. Nor did she know whether he would welcome her intrusion. Probably not.

Even so, she sank down to the rampart floor beside him and put a hand on the nape of his neck. He wore one of the loose Arab robes today, like the one she'd first seen him in back in his Saxon home.

"Thank you," she said, and she meant it most sincerely.

He didn't raise his head, but he did turn it so that he could look at her. "For what? We may not know for days if your father will recover."

"It matters not," she said, and moved her hand from his nape to his shoulder, which she squeezed briefly as a further sign of her appreciation. "Oh, I do not mean that my father's life has no importance. 'Tis just that I know you did not want to practice your healing skills, and definitely not in such a serious case."

"And not in another country, where I was brought against my will," he added. There was mirth in his voice now. She knew he was teasing her… again.

"That, too," she agreed. "Despite all your objections, though, you did a fine, fine job. I am impressed."

"Impressed, hmmm? I like the sound of that." He sat up, which she regretted. She no longer had an excuse to lay her hand on him. And she did so like the feel of his clean hair under her fingertips and the hard muscles of his back under her palm.

"Do not be letting your ego get more overblown than it already is. Any bigger and your head might explode," she teased back. She was not experienced with teasing games… certainly not teasing games with men. "I merely thanked you for completing the task competently. Just say, 'You are welcome, my lady,' like a humble healer."

"Humble healer?" he snorted, apparently not liking that description of himself. Tyra's heart went out to the man. He looked exhausted, despite his teasing, and why not? He'd spent two hours working on her father, and another two hours watching over him afterward. No doubt he would return to his vigil after this respite. "I did it because of our pact, Tyra. Do not be attributing fine motives to me. You made me a promise, and I intend to collect on it sometime soon."

Her face warmed despite her resolution to stop this blushing business that had started when she met this rogue. "I do not for one minute believe that you performed your surgery on my father because of me. You did it because you saw a man in need of your help. You did it because you are a doctor."

He shrugged. "Perchance it was all of those things, including you and the prize I intend to collect. So, exactly how thankful are you?"

Uh-oh! "What do you mean?" She was fairly certain she knew exactly what he meant. It would be something involving bed furs.

"Will you be slipping into my bed furs this night?"

"Nay!" she said far too quickly. "That was not our agreement."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Do you intend to renege on our deal now? Your word is your bond, or so I presumed. Has that changed?"

"My word is everything. If you heal my father… that was what I agreed to. Then, and only then."

"I suppose you are correct. I just thought you might want to show some small token of your… thankfulness. In advance."

"Small token?" she asked skeptically. "Like a gift? A gold coin? An etched silver arm ring? A jewel-encrusted goblet?"

"Not quite what I had in mind." The twinkle in his eye was most beguiling.

Tyra had no idea how to handle this man. A rogue, pure and simple, that's what he was. First he pricked her pride by questioning her honor. In the next instant, he twinkled his sinful eyes at her. How was a woman to know when he was serious? "What, then?" she inquired in a surprisingly cool voice.

"Oooh, let me think." He tapped his lips with a forefinger, thoughtfully. "A kiss would be nice."

"A kiss?" she practically squealed. "When I am willing to give you some priceless object, you would settle for a mere kiss?"

"It would not be mere, I assure you. And, frankly, I have more treasures than I can use. You may find this hard to believe, but I have been a knight as well as a healer these past fifteen years. Many a battle and many a prize have there been."

"Now, there's a conflict of interests," she commented with a laugh. "Did you thrust a sword in your enemy, then later sew up his wounds?"

"That very thing did happen on occasion. Eventually, I declined to serve as a soldier anymore, unless absolutely needed to defend the position of one king or another. And they did not mind. 'Twould seem my services as a healer were needed more than my sword arm. Either way, the rewards were great. I do not need your material tokens."