Page 85 of The Reluctant Viking

Thork talked to Eirik for a few moments before he picked up the bat. Like a true athlete, he held it in several positions to feel its weight, scrutinized the angle of the pitcher’s position, seemed to smell the wind, then took the batter’s position.

THWACK!

Ruby wasn’t surprised when the ball whistled over the astonished heads of Eirik and the other players and continued in a flying arc way past the outfield. Eirik beamed with pride at his father’s expertise. Thork declined to run the bases, only wanting to prove a point to her, and handed the bat to the next player. He flashed Ruby a huge smirk when he turned and strutted arrogantly toward her.

Good Lord! A Viking jock!

“Shall we negotiate my forfeit, wench?” Thork asked smoothly as he reached out a hand and hauled her to her feet. Ruby’s heart skipped a beat when he twined his fingers in hers. Like a lifeline, she felt his pulse beat against hers in their joined palms as they walked back to the tents. “You did not wait for me yestereve,” Thork complained softly.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to.” Ruby glanced sideways at him in surprise at his abrupt change of subject. Had he been disappointed to find her gone? “I thought the moment had passed, that your usual cool reason had doused your hot blood by the time you returned to the room.”

“Hot blood, huh?” Thork grinned. “Didst you think I only wanted you when you had stoked my lust with that”—Thork stopped for loss of words and smiled with a shake of his head—“with that tiny wisp of a garb designed, no doubt, to make a man’s tongue hang out. Not to mention other body parts. By the by, I found it under my bed this morn.”

Ruby’s heart soared with hope. What exactly did he mean? She studied his inscrutable face, seeing only the intensity of his expression. Thork seemed to deliberate for several moments the wisdom of disclosing his inner thoughts. With the knuckle of his right hand, he caressed her jaw from ear to chin and back.

Wistfully he finally whispered, “Sweetling, I want you in the morn when I waken and remember my night dreams of you boldly seducing me.” His blue eyes locked with hers to seal his soul-wrenched message, and Ruby felt her world tilt. “I want you when I see you touch my sons with kindness. I want you when I hear you sing about making it through the night. I want you when you speak of kisses that last three days. God’s blood, I want you when you make me laugh. Yea, I do. But one thing you must never misdoubt, sweetling—I want you.”

Ruby had trouble speaking over the lump in her throat. “But you resist me, Thork. Despite everything you say, you won’t let me get close. Whether you believe what I say about the future or not, you obviously recognize this bond between us.” She put her hand up to his face and stroked it lovingly. “I don’t know if you’re Jack or just a time reflection of him, but I love you. I know that now, and, dammit, I don’t know what to do about it anymore.” She raised tear-filled eyes to his, looking for answers. “I’ve tried every stupid trick in the book to seduce you, and—”

“Shush,” Thork whispered, pulling her into his arms, his lips in her hair. “’Tis not our time, Rube. In truth, ’twill never be. Mayhap ’tis why your God gave me another chance in another lifetime, if your tales of the future be true.” His voice was deep-timbered with regret for his heartfelt words.

Rube! He’d called her Rube. “Why did you call me that?”

“What?”

“Rube. You called me Rube.”

Thork shrugged, puzzled at the importance she placed on a simple word. “It just came out that way. Do your people never shorten names?”

The fine hairs stood out on Ruby’s arms. “Oh, Thork! Rube was Jack’s pet name for me. Can’t you see that your use of it is like an omen, as if God, or some higher being, were telling me everything will be all right?”

“Let us speak no more of it, sweetling. It can only cause us both needless anguish.”

Choked with emotion, Ruby asked with a tearful laugh, trying to lighten Thork’s mood, “What did you do with my teddy? Will you put it under your pillow on the long winter nights in Jomsborg to remind you of what you might have had?”

“You call that lacy man-teaser a teddy? How odd!” The corners of his lips lifted enticingly, even though his eyes remained dull with a resigned sadness.

Ruby wiped at the wetness rimming her eyes with the back of her hand, laughing despite her desolation. “Well, it’s a special design of mine—a combination bustier and teddy.” Her eyes narrowed and she asked menacingly, “You wouldn’t think of giving it to another woman? If you do, I swear I’ll put a curse on you—from wherever I am.”

Thork laughed and swung her around in his arms with pure joy. When her feet touched the ground again, he answered, “Nay, you are the only woman ’twould suit. Leastways, I decided on my forfeit for our baseball wager. You must model the teddy for me again. One last time.”

“You better make it soon…before the Thing,” Ruby declared grimly. “The outfit goes better with a head, and you’d never be able to get the bloodstains out of silk.”

“I find your humor ill-timed and inappropriate.” His jaw tightened at her sick joke. Then he turned and walked away from her stiffly.

Ruby decided that Thork must care for her, more than he would acknowledge to himself, and the prospect of her death frightened him. That didn’t speak well for Thork’s optimism about her fate at the Althing. Ruby shivered apprehensively.

Just before she stepped inside the tent, Ruby saw Selik approach with shoulders drooping. “What’s the matter?” she teased. “Did you strike out tonight?”

The uncommonly handsome man had a notorious reputation for attracting females. Ruby pitied Astrid if she hoped to keep this womanizer tied to a hearth fire.

“Strike out? I did not play baseball tonight.” Selik arched his dark brows, a sharp contrast to his almost-white hair. He tilted his head quizzically as he looked Ruby over from head to foot, probably assessing whether she would be worth the trouble of his amorous advances.

“I wasn’t referring to baseball,” Ruby said, amused at his transparency. “I meant that you looked like a horny male who hadn’t been lucky tonight.”

“Lucky? What language do you speak?”

“Oh, Selik! It’s just an expression. You know, if you found a woman to share your tent, you might say, ‘I got lucky tonight.’”