Page 19 of Hot & Heavy

"Three wives and three concubines? No shit?"

"There is no need to be vulgar."

"Sorry. Concubine? That's an outdated word, dontcha think?" He shrugged, as if it didn't matter, which it didn't.

"I was the fourth concubine, or so he planned when he purchased me. That is, until—"

The dolt grinned and finished her thought. "—until you waved your magic fingers and lowered his flag."

That is one way of describing that thing. "Yea. Plus I have added other things to my bedchamber performance."

"Like?" His lips twitched with mirth he did not even attempt to suppress.

The loathsome lout! "Spinning about three times whilst waggling my fingers in the direction of… well, you know. And I hum. Uhm, uhm, uhm."

"This is unbelievable," Ian—that was the name he had given her—said. "Then what happened?"

"Since he couldn't swive me with his dangly part, he gave me work to do. For the love of Frigg! I had to milk his bloody camels. Believe you me, that was almost as bad as bedding the old bag of wind. Camels are not pleasant creatures, you know. They spit and snap and snort and smell. Like men. That is part of what you smell on me. Camel spit."

The troll's jaw dropped practically to his chest at her long discourse. "He's old. How old? For some reason, I thought he was fairly young. You called him a bag of wind. Odd way to describe your lover."

"Aaarrgh! Did you not hear me say I never coupled with the maggot? And, yea, he is old. He has seen more than fifty winters, I would guess. Mayhap even sixty."

"Hey, fifty isn't old. I'm thirty-four myself. How old are you?"

"Thirty-one and do not dare make a jest about my being so old my female parts have no doubt dried up." Which they probably have.

His mouth dropped open again.

Good thing there are no flying insects in here.

"Did someone actually say that to you? Never mind. Don't answer. You do know that the rumor mill has it that the two of you have been lovers for years?"

"That is the thing about rumors. They are rarely true. First, I have only been here one sennight. Two, I have had no lover since my husband put me aside ten years ago. Three, if I were going to take a lover, it would not be a crude man who breaks wind constantly, day and night."

"You were married? To whom?"

How like a man to home in on the least relevant thing I said! "To Karl Ivarsson, if you must know.

And that is all I will say on the subject."

"About that farting thing… maybe the tango has a stomach ailment. Hmmmm. That's one thing we didn't know about him."

"What's a tango?"

"A terrorist. A bad guy."

Then say what you mean, troll. Calling a bad person a tango… dumb, dumb, dumb. "He does strike terror in those around him. Not me, though."

"Of course not. You are such a brave woman."

Is there perchance a rock nearby that would fit in his mouth? "I find your sarcasm insulting. I am not talking to you anymore." She walked away from the beast and picked up the metal object.

" No!" he hollered.

Is my prisoner daring to order me about… again? Incredible' . She turned her head, holding the object in her right hand. He seemed very upset that she would touch his… thing. Hmmm. Does it have some special value? Mayhap there is a gem in there. She held the metal part to her face and peered into the barrel.

"Oh, damn! Put… the… gun… down!" he yelled.