Page 73 of The Very Virile Viking

"You just ate four cheese danishes and two blueberry muffins with two lattes."

"I am hungry," he repeated.

She looked at him then, giving him her full attention.

He licked his lips slowly and sensuously, the whole time staring at her—and her behind—with unwavering… hunger. "I am hungry."

Angela thought of a dozen answers she could have given him, but the only one that seemed appropriate was, "Me, too."

Unfortunately—or fortunately—they made love on the front seat of her BMW, under a lap rug, in broad daylight, at the far end of the Barnes & Noble parking lot. It was by far the most scandalous thing Angela had ever done in all her life.

Who knew reading could whet such appetites?

A-viking he did go, via the TV…

Angela had to go to her office to work that afternoon, but she had stopped on the way home to rent some videotapes for Magnus to watch while she was gone.

Magnus lay on the sofa for more than four hours watching one incredible tape after another on the tell-a-vision. First he viewed The Vikings , or started to. It was a very old move-he that starred Kirk Douglasson, and was silly beyond belief. If Dare-All No-Land thought Magnus was going to prance about a longship wearing a helmet with a giant eagle atop it, like this act-whore did, he had better think again. Magnus shut that video off after only a half hour.

Then he began another move-he called The 13th Warrior , which was bad… but not quite so bad as the Kirk one. In this story, the Vikings were portrayed as vicious and fanciful, believing in sea monsters and such, but the most unpalatable character was the Arab merchant as portrayed by Aunt-toe-knee-oh Band-arrows. Or was it Aunt-toe-knee-oh of the Band of Eros? Whatever. This fellow had a heavy accent more like an Italian than a Saracen. Plus, the move-he perpetuated the most outlandish theories about Vikings. First there was the claim that Norsemen were filthy in their daily habits; in truth, they were often fastidious to a fault. In addition, this Arab claimed that Vikings routinely had sex with their servants

in front of everyone. Ironically, this move-he was based on a book that purportedly portrayed legendary events taking place in the tenth century… his very time period.

Finally Magnus began a series of five videos that were produced by Pea-Bee-Ess, entitled, Vikings , and narrated by a man with a fine Norse name, Magnus Magnusson. These were documentaries, according to Angela, and therefore more reliable historically. Some of the subtitles were, "Hammer of the North,"

"From the Fury of the Northmen," "Here King Harold Was Killed," "Halfdan Was Here," and "England at Bay." He was riveted to the screen by these mostly accurate portrayals of the Vikings of his time, and he was still watching closely when Angela returned early that evening.

"So what do you think?" she asked as she sank down to the carpet next to the sofa and gave him a quick greeting kiss. He liked the way people in this country gave each other greeting kisses, farewell kisses, congratulatory kisses, sympathy kisses, kisses for each and every occasion. He could become accustomed to that.

"I think that there are many false rumors perpetuated about Vikings," he answered, "but these last videos are interesting. Even I am learning things about my own people."

She smiled gently at him.

His heart tightened with emotion, just looking at this woman. He had only told her one time, back at the Blue Dragon, that he loved her, but Magnus feared it was so. At this late date, in these unbelievable circumstances, he was falling in love. And it might very well be an impossible love… one with no future.

That was why he had not repeated the words. Then, too, she had never said the words to him.

"Would you like to go out for dinner?" she asked.

If you only knew what I would really like! Hot, perverted, blister-my-bones sex, but I would settle for plain sex… for now. "Nay. Can we not eat here?"

"Sure, but no more pizza."

Just sex. He laughed and chucked her playfully under the chin.

"How about if I cook a steak and baked potato, with a salad?"

And sex. "Whatever you want… though I could do without the weeds."

It was her turn to laugh. "Okay, I'll put the potatoes in the oven, but I won't start the steaks for an hour. I think I'll take a shower first." She rose to her feet by bracing one hand on the low table.

This must mean sex. "All right," he agreed, and stood as well.

"All right?" She cocked her head to the side in question.

"What? That was not an invitation?"

At first she seemed not to understand. Then she smiled her understanding. "You are insatiable."