Page 111 of Hot & Heavy

Ian felt as if he'd been sucker punched. "No! She said her name was Madrene Olgadottir, not Magnusson." What an idiotic thing to say! Then, he thought of something else. Wouldn't it be really ironic if I was now related to this bozo by marriage? Ironic? More like hellish.

Max shook his head. "Women take their mother's names in my country."

"Oh." Another great brainiac observation! Suddenly Ian remembered what had been niggling at his memory from the first time he'd met Maddie. An eerie prickle rippled over his skin. There was a perfect image in his mind of the mesmerizing Norse noblewoman in the painting at Blue Dragon Vineyard. He'd seen the artwork done by Dagny Magnusson, another sister, when he'd attended his sister Alison's wedding three years ago at the vineyard estate.

Maddie was the woman in the painting.

The Vikings are coming… and coming… and coming…

Within twenty-four hours, Ian felt as if he were living in a Viking psycho ward.

It started the morning after his meeting with Max. He was awakened before dawn from a deep sleep, the first he'd had in a week. And he'd been having a strange dream, too. Maddie had been calling to him, "Come to me, dearling."

Was she really dead, as others concluded, and calling to him to join her in death? Or was it one of those telepathic messages some people believed in?

Whichever! He made his way out of bed and stumbled groggily to the front door, where a loud pounding was going on nonstop. When he opened it, he jumped back. Five big, fierce-looking men stood there, wearing weird leather battle armor. They carried big-ass swords and battle-axes.

He knew who they all were, having met them before, but they scared him nonetheless. It was like a bad Halloween nightmare. Torolf and Jorund Magnusson, Maddie's brothers, stood in the back, but up front and way too much in his face were Magnus, Jorund and Geirolf Ericsson, Maddie's father and uncles, respectively.

"What have you done with my baby?" Magnus asked him gruffly as he faced him nose to nose, backing him up against the foyer wall. Ian was tall, but this guy had to be six-foot-six, and he had a hundred pounds on him. He was big.

"Are you referring to my wife?" Good Lord! I must have a death wish.

"That remains to be proved," one of the uncles proclaimed.

Uh-oh!

"We're here to help find her," the other uncle said.

With swords? Oops! Hope I didn't say that out loud.

Max and Ragnor were grinning at him.

Magnus came into the hall, dropped his sword and battle-ax to the floor, probably breaking some tiles, and took Ian into a tight bear hug which lifted him on tiptoes. "Do not be afeared, son. We will find Madrene."

Ian wasn't sure if the tears in his eyes were from relief or from being crushed by Attila the Viking.

But then, at the same ungodly hour, his father showed up. He was out of uniform, which was in itself a rarity. He took Ian by the shoulders and said, "I had to come. I couldn't just sit on my ass in Washington without trying to help." His father going outside the strictures of military protocol—it was a miracle to Ian, or a nightmare.

Of course, his SEAL buddies showed up, too. What was going on here? Was he sending out psychic messages for help? There were so many people at his house by six a.m. that Ian could barely move.

Cage and Omar were cooking scrambled eggs and bacon. Geek was in Ian's office, showing Ragnor and the uncles the work they'd done so far on locating Maddie. Sly, JAM and Slick were doing sit-ups in the living room. Pretty Boy was making Magnus laugh over Maddie's makeover. Everyone was drinking beer, at this ungodly hour. One of them, Geirolf, was eating Oreos with his beer.

To top off his nightmare, Sam was behaving really weird. She kept coming up to him and meowing like crazy. He let her outside a dozen times, which he normally didn't do, but she would immediately scratch to come back in. Like right now. She was screeching like a banshee at the front door. Maybe she was in heat or something. If she got pregnant, he would kill himself. He was pretty sure Jen had had her fixed, but God only knew if that was true; Jen had told him so many lies.

In the midst of all the chaos, Ian went to his bedroom and closed the door firmly. He needed some time to himself. Of course, Sam, who was on her outside rotation, came up to the sliding door on the deck, meowing for entrance. "Make up your mind. In or out," he grumbled as he let the cat in.

Sam just gave him her look.

Ian flopped down on the bed and folded his arms beneath his neck, staring at the ceiling. "Please, God, let me find Maddie." He wondered if he should promise to be good, or offer some bribe. He hadn't done much praying in his sorry life. He settled for just a simple plea. "I don't know for sure if You're up there, or if I deserve Your help, but please." Just for insurance, he added, "You, too, Odin."

Sam chose that moment to jump onto the bed—which was a real feat for such a fat cat—then walk up his body from thigh to stomach to chest. Putting her cat face right in front of his, she meowed dolefully.

"You miss her, too, don't you?"

Sam hissed as if she were exasperated with him. She scratched at his chest with one paw, gently, then started to walk away. Looking back at him, she meowed some more. Then she came back and repeated the exercise. Pawing at his chest, walking away, looking at him, then coming back. Sitting up and furrowing his brow, he asked the cat— That was a sign of how far gone he was… talking to a cat!— "Do you want me to follow you?"

He could swear Sam rolled her eyes and meowed, "At last."