Page 80 of Viking in Love

“There are priests who would disagree with that sentiment.”

“They are biased, then. What I am trying to say, and obviously failing, is that I no longer hate you for forcing me into this bargain.”

“Uh-huh,” he said hesitantly. “Listen, Breanne, do not make more of this than it is.”

“Oh?” The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

“’Tis lust and naught else. I would not want you to fancy it up.”

“Fancy it up?” You lout! You foolish, foolish lout! You are going to ruin it all.

“You know, love and all that other nonsense. Lust is all it is. Wonderful lust and bedplay, for a certainty, but that is all. Some women start dreaming of softer emotions, but you are more sensible than that. Do you understand what I mean?”

Clear as ice. Breanne’s heart felt as if it were cracking. “I am beginning to understand.”

“Whew! ’Tis a relief. I was afeared you were thinking of extending our…our relationship into something more, like marriage.” The lout shivered with distaste.

I shiver, too, fool, but for a different reason. Before he had come into the bedchamber tonight, she had been musing over the possibility that she was falling in love with the scoundrel, and hoping he was feeling the same. But not because she expected a marriage proposal. Still, she was insulted that he would equate all they had just shared to mere lust, no more significant than scratching an itch.

Sliding off the bed, she stared down at him for a moment.

“Breanne?” At last he was beginning to wonder whether he had misspoken. “Are you all right?”

“I am just fine,” she said, reaching for the honey pot. With the wooden spoon, she poured a huge dollop along the length of his already reburgeoning phallus. Then another. And another.

He smiled, figuring she was amenable to his insulting words.

“And what are you going to do about all this honey?” he asked, beckoning her closer.

I thought you would never ask. “’Tis not what I am going to do about it, but you are.” She was already drawing her sleep rail over her head.

“Huh?”

“Lick it off yourself, dolthead. Lust is all you want from me? Fine. But, wonder of wonders, I am all out of lust.” How I wish that were true!

She had already unlocked the door and was halfway out before he got her message. He jumped off the bed, honey dripping down to the floor. “What about our bargain?”

She looked at him as if he were a halfwit. He was. “I am done with you and your bloody bargain.”

“Like hell you are!”

But she was already gone.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Hide-and-go-seek, medieval style…

Women! Who could figure them out? Their minds were like mazes designed to confuse the average man.

It was after midnight. Where could she have disappeared to? And why, for God’s sake? All he had done was spell out exactly what they both knew already.

After she had slammed the bedchamber door on him, he had pulled on a pair of breeches and rushed after her. But she had not gone to her bedchamber. Nor to the kitchens or even out on the ramparts. Well, he was done chasing her. When she had settled down and become biddable, he would talk some sense into her.

For now, he had to do something about all that honey still covering his cock and seeping through the wool of his breeches. He was standing in front of the washstand, using a cloth dipped in the cold water from the pitcher and bowl. And wasn’t that a shock to his overheated enthusiasm?

There was a soft knock on the door.

“Come in,” he said, relieved that she had come back, despite his rancor over her behavior.