Page 31 of The Bewitched Viking

That brought him back to reality with a rude jolt. Lopping off her head was gaining more and more appeal. Or, leastways, lopping off her tongue.

“And would you mind moving?” she snapped, trying unsuccessfully to shuffle backwards, away from his legs’ embrace. “You are blocking the sun.”

He smiled at that. He was a large man, but not that big.

“Lady, you avoid my question. Why would you have good cause to weep?”

“I was not—”

He held a forefinger to her lips to prevent her further protestations.

A big mistake, that. Touching her body. Her lips parted with surprise under his finger, which lingered in place. And he noticed for the first time that her lips were full and puffy. And kiss-some, truth be told. Furthermore, they were raspberry-colored, just like her nipples.

Aaarrrgh! Forget I thought that. ’Twas a mistake. I have forgotten entirely how the wench looks naked. It has been so long since I’ve seen a raspberry, I no longer even remember how they look, or taste. Taste? Bloody hell!

“Oh, good Lord, not that again!” she said, swatting his finger away.

“What?”

“You are staring at me naked, again.”

“I am not,” he lied.

“Yea, you are, and I will not stand for it.”

He wondered how she could stop him. In truth, he would like to know so he could stop himself. Then his reckless tongue took on a mind of its own. “My lady, do you deliberately remind me of your raspberry nipples, which match your raspberry lips, by the by, to avoid speaking of your tears?”

“And to think I was envisioning you as my guardian angel!”

Now, that remark surprised him. The woman did have a knack for catching him off-guard. “What? Who? Me? Ha, ha, ha!”

“Yea, it is humorous, isn’t it?”

“Humorous? It is preposterous.” He thought a moment. “Why is it so preposterous? Dost think there are no Vikings in your heaven? Dost think we have no godliness in us? Dost think you Christians hold the rights to goodness? Dost forget that many of us Vikings practice both the Norse and Christian religions?”

Her mouth gaped open with incredulity at his vehement words. Her lips were not quite so kiss-some when sucking air like a North Sea puff fish. Thank the gods!

“What? You want to be my guardian angel?” she asked, once she’d clicked her teeth shut.

“Nay, I do not want to be your guardian angel. I do not want to be your…anything.” Now, that was a near mistake. He’d almost said that he did not want to be her lover, which was a lie, he admitted to himself now. Yea, ever since he’d seen her naked, the thought of wetting his wand…rather, whetting his sword…at least once…had been hovering in his head like a tiresome headache. Once? Hell, in his mind pictures he was wetting and whetting endlessly.

“It was a foolish notion, I admit.”

What is she talking about? I am so busy thinking about sex I’ve lost the thread of her talk. Now I remember. Angels, that was it. She thinks I’m her guardian angel, of all things. “Aha! So that is why you wept. They were tears of relief that your One-God had sent you the most handsome, bravest, perfect guardian angel.” I swear, my tongue has gained a mind of its own.

“Are you really as lackwitted as you appear betimes?”

Yea. “No more lackwitted than you…that you would insult a fierce warrior as you do, constantly.”

“’Tis just that you provide so many instances of idiocy.”

“Aaarrrgh! Your head must be like a pond and your thoughts like little frogs, jumping from one lily pad to another.”

“How poetic!”

He made a low, snarling sound of exasperation. “Could you just once finish one subject before hop-hop-hopping to another?”

“If you insist,” she said demurely. What a farce! The woman wouldn’t recognize demure if it smacked her in the middle of her freckled forehead. “What would you like to know?”