Page 95 of The Reluctant Viking

In a flash, Thork scooped her in his arms and jumped up on the rail, weaving back and forth precariously. Smiling from ear to ear, enjoying the spectacle he made of her, Thork asked his shipmates loudly, “What say you, men? Wouldst she not make good fish bait?”

“Put me down! Stop being so immature,” Ruby demanded. She wasn’t afraid of the water, but heights had always alarmed her. When he refused to release her and continued to rock forward and backward on the rail, Ruby did the only thing a woman in peril could do. Keeping her left arm wrapped tightly around Thork’s neck, she reached down between their bodies with her right hand and pinched his groin area as hard as she could, hoping he would put her back on the deck.

“Arghh! For the love of Freya!” Thork shouted in pain. He lost his balance on the rail, and they both spilled over into the river, lucky to land on their feet.

The water was shallow enough to wade thigh-deep to shore. Hampered by her wet garments, she was still able to walk proudly out of the water, throwing her shoulders back. When Thork came up out of the water with a whoosh, he glared at Ruby’s back. The laughing men stopped all activity to watch the hilarious spectacle.

Outraged, Ruby said a very vulgar word, one she’d never used in all her life.

Thork was laughing when he finally emerged from the water and directed his smirking men to get back to work. He couldn’t believe Ruby had actually said that obscene word. The impudent wench!

“I deserved the soaking for teasing you so,” he admitted, walking up to her, “but did you have to try to emasculate me in the process?”

Ruby turned to face him angrily, and Thork got his first look at the sodden clothing which outlined her body. He swallowed hard before grabbing her arm and pulling her into the trees. “Have you no shame, woman? You look like a wanton, flaunting yourself in front of three hundred men.”

Actually, she looked damned nigh irresistible to Thork with her tunic plastered to her slim form. Her nipples, puckered from the cold water, stood out like sentinels, begging for his touch. Even her short, wet hair hugged her face in an attractive manner, accentuating the sharp lines of her cheekbones, the greenish hue of her eyes, the creaminess of her complexion.

Thork groaned, hoping his men didn’t notice his half-arousal. Lord, the woman would be the death of him yet.

He had seen the hurt in her eyes the past few days. He knew that his decision to marry Elise offended her, but ’twas beyond his comprehension why that should be so. Bloody hell!

“What would you suggest I wear?” she asked, hands on hips in an exasperated pose. “All my dry clothes are on the ship.”

“Stay here,” he directed and went off to get her garments. He saw Selik look at him curiously, glance down, then bleat with laughter like a bloody sheep.

When she’d changed, Thork told her to stay out of the men’s way while they set up camp. The one ship holding their horses was brought as close to shore as possible. Then all the men moved to one side so the boat tipped over on its side in the shallow water, and the animals walked off.

Fires already blazed with caldrons of meat and vegetables in boiling water. Tents were erected, with oil lamps on metal posts in front of some of them. Vats of cheese and butter were opened to be eaten with the bread baked early that morning in Jorvik.

“Do you think our Jomsviking comrades will return to Northumbria with us next year to prepare for the Saxon onslaught?” Selik asked worriedly while they set up camp.

“I know not. ’Tis why I did not tell my grandfather of our hopes. I did not want to raise the old man’s hopes needlessly. As you well know, the Jomsvikings may already be committed to other obligations.”

Selik nodded. “The hesirs you hired will help.”

“Yea, but I fear they will not be enough. That is why in the end I consented to the hated marriage.” He slammed his fist against a tree in frustration.

Ruby raised questioning eyebrows from where she sat some distance away in front of her tent, combing her short hair.

“You do know, my friend, that she will never have you now that you are honor-bound to another?” Selik commented, tilting his head in Ruby’s direction.

“She will have me. Make no mistake about that. And it better be soon.”

Selik snickered, understanding Thork’s meaning well. “And after you take her, then what? Will you leave her in Normandy with Hrolf?”

“Mayhap…if he will have her. If not, providing she pleases as much as I expect, I may offer to set her up for a time in Jomsborg as my mistress, even though I would have to live at the fortress.”

Selik looked incredulous, then laughed uproariously. Bent over at the waist, slapping a hand on his knee, he exclaimed, “My friend, I would love to be a fly on the wall when you make that suggestion to the winsome wench. I wager she may tear your eyeballs out. Nay, better yet, she may yank out your balls and cast them in bronze like the picture on that fetching shirt she wears.”

“Why would you think such?” Thork frowned. “’Tis no dishonor in being a man’s bedmate. I treat my women generously. None have complained afore.”

“I cannot believe you think this woman is of the same mold as any other. Never, never, will she agree to be aught but wife to you.”

Inside, Thork secretly wondered if Selik might not be right. After all, he’d been down this route with Ruby afore. Seduction, pursuit, withdrawal. First she would. Then she wouldn’t. Of course, he had changed his own mind a few times, as well, he reminded himself ruefully.

Ruby watched the two men through narrowed eyes, sensing they were up to some mischief, probably involving her since they kept looking over at her slyly.

They were outrageously handsome men in their knee-length tunics, worn belted at the waist over slim trousers. Selik was slightly taller with platinum hair, which contrasted sharply with his bronze, sun-baked skin, but, to Ruby, Thork was much more attractive. His impressively toned body and finely chiseled facial features were definite assets, not to mention his drop-dead gorgeous smile, but what appealed to Ruby most in this roguish clone of her husband Jack was his unselfish love for his sons and family. Then, too, his quick wit always caught her off-guard, and the boyish hurt he sometimes failed to hide in shuttered eyes drew Ruby strongly. She wanted to help wipe out the years of childhood abuse, to smother him with so much love he would forget he’d never been given much of that precious emotion.