Page 31 of Hot & Heavy

"Sometimes I let my temper get the best of me. Hah! I always let my temper rule. My father used to say

…" He could swear she gulped then.

"I don't give a rat's ass about your temper or your father or any other bloomin' crazy thing you say or do.

Just leave me alone."

"I cannot." Now she dropped down to her knees.

"Look, I don't hurt women, but I'm afraid I'll give in to the urge to throttle you if you keep bugging me."

"I have a proposition for you."

"This oughta be good," he muttered, turning over to face her. "You are a piece of work, lady."

"Is that good or bad?"

"What's the proposition?"

"If you and your men will get me to Baghdad… and from there to my homeland… I will reward you generously."

He gave her a once-over survey which pretty much said she had nothing he wanted.

"Don't be a lackwit," she said. "I didn't mean that. I meant that I would pay you in coins… gold coins…

chests of gold coins. All you have to do is deliver me back to my people. My fighting men will come out of hiding to help me rid my estates of Steinolf and his evil warriors."

Ian rolled his eyes.

She stared at him expectantly.

"Where did you say you come from?"

"Uh, Jorvik."

"Jorvik?" Liar, liar!

"Yea, the Saxons call it York."

He burst out laughing. "So far, you've said you live in Russia, Norsemandy and England. Which one is it?"

She waved a hand airily. "It does not matter which. I can get home from any of those places."

"And then you will hand over a pigload of gold. Just like that."

"Yea. Now you understand."

Delusional, that's what she is. Or a scheming witch who will change sides as it suits her in the war on terror, regardless of ethics. "No, you understand this. I will take you to Baghdad if I am able to.

But it won't be so you can fly off to Leningrad or London town. You will be considered a terrorist suspect, subject to the interrogation of my superiors."

Her mouth—the mouth he'd been trying hard to ignore—formed a perfect O of surprise. "You think I am a terrorist?"

"Damn straight I do." Maybe.

"What is a terrorist?"

He rolled his eyes again. "A person or group who uses violence, usually in a cowardly way, for political or ideological purposes."