The Reluctant Viking

  "You cannot be serious!" Thork exclaimed, slamming his goblet on the table.

  "That I am!" A flash of humor softened his wrinkled face.

  "My grandmother would never wear such... things," Thork sputtered, turning indignant eyes on Ruby, as if this were all her idea.

  "Do not wager on it," Dar countered with a wry, knowing grin. Thork's face reddened with embarrassment.

  Before they were out the door, Thork warned Ruby in a loud stage whisper, "You and I have much to discuss. I mislike my life being dictated by a wench. Be here when I return."

  "I'll think about it," Ruby asserted foolishly. As if she had anyplace else to go!

  Gyda worked quietly, ominously, as they continued with their tasks. When Astrid asked Ruby if she wanted to go to market, Gyda advised her to stay at home that day, in case the men should return soon. Ruby was tidying her sleeping chamber when she heard the door slam below and angry voices arguing back and forth, including Gyda's.

  "Nay! I will not do it. She is not my responsibility. Sigtrygg has no right to interfere with my Jomsviking commitments." Thork swore loudly and eloquently. Then Ruby heard Olaf chastise him for using coarse language in Gyda's presence, to which Thork apologized curtly and added, "Can you imagine what she would do to the men on my ship if I took her aboard? She would probably have them putting laces on the sails or designing see-through codpieces for themselves."

  Laughter filtered up to Ruby at his last words. Then Gyda, the wonderful woman, defended Ruby. "Ruby only tried to help, Thork. She meant no harm."

  "May all the gods spare us from her help in the future!" Thork snorted with disgust.

  "There is another solution," Dar offered in a cunning voice.

  "What might that be?" Thork asked dubiously.

  "We could bring her back to Ravenshire till the Althing meets. After all, 'tis only three sennights from now. What more harm could the wench do?"

  "What harm, indeed!" Thork scoffed, but he sounded more amenable to her being in Dar's home than on his ship. "Bring the wench down, Gyda, but warn her to keep her bloody mouth shut or, I swear, I will strip the flesh from her back this time, as Sigtrygg has suggested I do."

  When Ruby came downstairs, trying to appear as meek and innocent as possible, the men sat at the table watching her somberly, like three blasted judges. Tempted to turn and run back upstairs, Ruby chose, instead, to move forward stoically.

  Exasperated to the breaking edge, Thork pointed a censuring finger at Ruby and informed her without preamble, "You have now convinced Sigtrygg that you must be a spy from Ivar. His exact words were 'Not only does Ivar wish to kill off all my men, now he sends this woman to ensure that we have no young to replace our dead.' "

  "That's ridiculous! All I—"

  Thork raised a hand angrily to halt her speech and ordered through thinned lips, "In the future you will speak only when given permission to do so."

  We'll see about that. But Ruby knew enough to remain silent for now.

  "The mischievous Loki had to have sent you into my life as an enormous joke. He and all the other devils, Christian and Viking alike, are laughing heartily by now."

  "Who is Loki?"

  "I told you not to speak unless given permission," Thork snapped.

  "What could you be thinking of, wench," Olaf intervened quizzically, "to preach the killing of babes to our women?"

  Ruby didn't care what Thork ordered. She couldn't remain silent at such horrendous accusations. "I never discussed the killing of children—in or out of the womb. I only talked about methods of preventing conception."

  Thork stood abruptly, overturning a goblet of ale. Her defiance of his command of silence incensed him. Nostrils flaring, he moved toward her. Ruby momentarily panicked and jumped behind Dar's chair for protection. She cowered there for several seconds before becoming disgusted with herself. Straightening herself on wobbly knees, she said with as much dignity as she could muster, "Oh, go ahead and punish me, Thork. I can't keep quiet when I'm falsely accused."

  "Falsely accused!" Thork sputtered, as Olaf reached out a hand and pulled him back to his chair. Meanwhile, Gyda refilled their cups of ale, probably hoping that would mellow them a bit. Gyda's eyes registered with Ruby's for a moment in sympathy.

  "I refuse to hear your lame excuses. 'Tis not at issue here, leastways. Sigtrygg bellows madder than a wounded bear and would have you punished to the death, whether you be kin to Hrolf or not."

  "Mayhap we women could go to him and explain how harmless the talks were," Gyda offered placatingly.

  "Yea, and wear a black eye like the good Byrnhil does," Dar commented dryly.

  "Get you from this company, Gyda," Olaf roared like a wild bull at his wife's breaking into men's talk. "Where did you learn to act the man, interrupting in such an uncomely manner? Probably from this meddlesome lackwit." He looked pointedly at Ruby, then back to Gyda. "In truth, I have been too lax with you, wife."

  Weeping loudly, Gyda fled the room with her apron thrown over her face. So, this is what her interference had brought to one of the few friends she'd made here! Ruby chastised herself.

  "That was unnecessary and cruel," Ruby chided Olaf, and before he could respond, she turned to Thork coldly, "What do you want me to do?"

  Ruby saw the angry emotions warring inside him and knew he struggled to contain them. Finally he told her in a flat voice, "We travel to my grandfather's home tomorrow. Gyda and her family accompany us—not for your company, but because my grandmother Aud requests it. There you will remain silent and biddable, causing no more trouble, until the Althing releases me from my responsibilty. Do you understand?"

  Ruby nodded.

  "Because, if you do not, you will be bound and gagged in his keep till you cannot move or speak."

  Thoroughly subdued, at least on the surface, Ruby went back to her chamber to contemplate the fine mess she'd made of things—once again. Lying on her pallet, staring at the ceiling, Ruby eventually fell asleep. She was surprised several hours later to look up and see Thork leaning against the door jamb, watching her curiously.

  "What? What have I done now?" Ruby jumped up, alarmed.

  "I thought I told you not to speak," Thork said in a surprisingly soft voice, tinged with humor.

  Ruby sniffed contemptuously and walked over to her small window. Dusk settled lazily over the clear sky. It would be a nice day tomorrow for traveling. Then she turned to study Thork's blank face, unable to read his emotions, or know whether there was some new crime of which she was to be accused.

  Drops of moisture from a recent bath beaded in his hair and dripped down his clean-shaven face. The silky blond hairs on his bare arms and calves glistened in the afternoon sun streaming through her small window. The rich outlines of his strong shoulders strained the fabric of his crisp, buttery brown leather tunic, and the dragon belt accented his deliciously narrow waist and hips.

  He was a devilishly handsome man, no doubt about it. The sheer masculinity he exuded filled the air and made Ruby blush with unbidden, secret thoughts.

  Thork returned her bold gaze with hooded, hawklike intensity, as if trying to solve some great puzzle. "Tempted I am to offer you freedom in exchange for information about who you really are," he said huskily.

  Ruby's traitorous heart skipped a beat at his softly spoken words. She sighed, trying to get her emotions under control, and answered him, "I've told you repeatedly who I am, but you won't believe me. I have many faults, Thork, but I'm not a liar. I despise lies."

  "And I hate mysteries." He held her gaze steadily, then shook his head in wonder and a hint of humor. "What could possess you to teach the women birth control, of all things, and where would you have gleaned such information?"

  Ruby bridled under his criticism. "Perhaps, if the women you and the other Viking men bed so indiscriminately knew more about birth control, there wouldn't be so many bastards around."

  "Do you call my sons bastards?" Thork challenged, then softened. "Would you begrudge
them life?"

  "Of course not. That's not what I meant." Then Ruby thought of something. "Thork, do you have other children?" Good heavens! He probably had dozens of children in as many countries.

  Tiny laugh lines crinkled at the edges of his eyes and mouth. He knew exactly what she imagined. "Nay, Eirik and Tykir are the only children I have."

  "How do you know for sure?"

  "I was young and careless when they were born."

  He seemed so certain, and yet, if these people didn't practice birth control, how could he be so sure?

  Sensing her thoughts, Thork continued with a cryptic grin, "Your Christian Bible tells it all." At Ruby's puzzled look, he explained, "Was there not a biblical man... Onan... who spilled his seed upon the ground?"

  Oh, my goodness! He meant that he ejaculated outside a woman's body. Ruby felt her face flame hotly.

  Thork grinned at her discomfort and sat down on her little bed, then—oh, my God!—lay down on her pallet with his magnificent bare legs crossed and arms folded behind his head. He looked up at her innocently through the shadows of his sinfully long lashes—dark contrasts to his pale hair. Ruby licked her dry lips and had trouble swallowing. He looked so damned irresistible. Would she ever be able to sleep in that bed again without imagining him in it?

  "Have you any inkling how strange 'tis to have such an intimate conversation with a woman?" Thork said nonchalantly.

  Oh, great! He was back on the outside-ejaculation business again. "It's just as strange to me. Believe me, everything I've said and done since I've come to this blasted land has been out of character."

  "Did you practice birth control with your husband?" Thork studied her intently.

  Ruby felt herself blush once again.

  His right eyebrow lifted slightly. "Do you find my question too personal? How odd! After all you have asked me! Especially since you say I am your husband—of sorts."

  "Yes, we did," Ruby admitted candidly.

  "Why? Did you only want two children?" Thork persisted. Meanwhile, his clear blue eyes raked her sensuously.

  "No. We always intended to have more, but it never seemed to be the right time," Ruby answered nervously, hardly able to think when his eyes caressed her so openly.

  "The right time? How curious!"

  Ruby plopped down on the chair near the bed. She peered at him curiously. Actually, she couldn't keep her eyes off him. "Are you still angry with me?" she asked, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity when what she really wanted to do was, as Jack would say, "jump his bones."

  "Yea, but not because of what you told those stupid women. Your actions disrupt my life, and I cannot allow that to continue." Propping himself on his elbows, Thork turned serious. "Ruby, my life is set. There is no place in it for you, leastways not the place you would accept. I am a Jomsviking. Ever I intend to be. Can you not accept that I will never marry? That my sons must stay with Olaf and Gyda?"

  Ruby knew that Thork was trying to be honest with her, not cruel, but tears welled in her eyes nonetheless. Sensing her dismay, Thork went on softly, "Honor demands I leave here as soon as possible, and you keep throwing stones in my path. Still..."

  Ruby waited but he remained silent, his eyes deep pools of blue heat reaching out to her. Finally she could contain her curiosity no longer. "Still what?"

  In one deft motion, so quick she had no time to react, Thork reached over, grabbed her by her waist and had her on her back under him on the groaning pallet. He adjusted his body on top of hers, and Ruby knew gloriously, without a doubt, what his "Still..." had meant.

  "Thork, don't," she whispered, but, at the same time, her traitorous body betrayed her by shifting seductively under him. Her eyes froze on his sensuously parted lips, basked in the smoldering heat of his gaze.

  "Shush," he rasped in a husky whisper. "Don't talk. Just lie still and... feel." Thork's wildly beating heart telegraphed erotic messages to her. Without moving, like a master puppeteer, he used just the pressure of his body to pull her sensuous strings to a vibrating pitch.

  Thork's lips brushed her eyes shut and swept like a whisper across her cheek, to the edge of her lips, then teasingly away toward her ear. The wet tip of his tongue traced its narrow whorls, then delved inside. In and out it plunged until Ruby arched against him, unable to stand the intense pleasure he had set throbbing in her center.

  "A-a-ah!" Ruby inhaled sharply, arching her neck, and Thork countered with a husky moan deep in his throat.

  "Kiss me, Thork. Please... ," Ruby begged. Then, "Oh!" as his warm lips brushed hers, back and forth, back and forth, like a butterfly's wings, teasing the petals of her lips open, then tasting her nectar. "Sweet, sweet," he rasped out against the softness, then kissed her hungrily, demanding more and more as he shaped and reshaped her lips. Softly persuasive, then fiercely devouring, he pressed, sucked, nipped, devoured until Ruby accepted his plundering tongue. "That's it, dearling. Oh, yes, open for me," Thork murmured silkily, filling her mouth, and slowly, seductively, set a cadence with his smooth, wet strokes, a fierce counterpoint to the movement of his lower body against her sensitized womanhood.

  But Tyra's loud shriek somewhere in the house recalled them both from their mindless passion. Thork groaned his frustration against her neck. Willing their breathing and aroused bodies back to normal, they lay still. Finally Thork pulled back slightly. Desire illuminated his eyes, and his warm breath fluttered against her lips.

  "Still... ," he whispered hoarsely, "... still I am tempted to take the risk of making love to you, knowing I would be doomed to your siren's spell."

  Ruby's body hummed at his words as he buried his face in her hair. She pondered his softly spoken words while her breathing stabilized. She, too, would take the risk—if given the chance. Ruby was about to pull his face up to tell him just that, but she was appalled to discover that his body shook—not with spasms of hot passion, but laughter.

  Laughter! The jerk was laughing at her!

  Ruby gave a mighty shove and Thork rolled off her. He laughed aloud by now as he sat up on the bed, trying to tell her what was so funny but unable to get the words past his mirth. Finally, when he'd laughed himself out, while she fumed, he told her disjointedly, stopping every few words to chuckle infuriatingly, "You should have seen the look on Olaf and Dar's faces when Sigtrygg told me why I had been summoned back—not because you had been doing that silly running thing again or sewing up frivolous garments, but teaching his woman how to prevent the bearing of his child."

  Then a hearty laugh rippled up out of his throat, and Ruby poked him in the ribs with an elbow, threatening, "If you don't stop, I'm going to dump that pitcher of water on you."

  That sobered him a bit but not for long. "The funniest part was when he told us about the... the orgasms, I think he called them, and Dar asked him to explain what they were. And then... and then"—he went off on another fit of laughter—"Sigtrygg said something about multiple orgasms. I thought Olaf would have a fit on the spot. I think Dar swallowed his tongue."

  "Oh, no!" Ruby groaned. She hid her face in her hands. Could a person die of humiliation? She wished she could drop through a hole in the ground and disappear. To think that everyone, including Thork, had heard all those outrageous things she'd said.

  Thork finally wiped his eyes and stood, preparing to leave. He reached down to her on the bed and ran a forefinger gently, regretfully along her lips. Then steeling himself back to his former cool composure, he told her of the time they would leave in the morning and warned her once again that, despite his lapse of laughter, she walked thin ice and must behave.

  Stopping in the doorway, he gazed at her fondly, as if memorizing her features, but then he spoiled it all by getting in one last parting shot. "Fair warning, maid, I may decide afore these three sennights pass to discover for myself just how many of those multiple things you can have."

  Ruby threw a cake of soap at him, but he ducked and it flew out the door into the hall. She heard the echo of his laughte
r long after he walked down the steps and out of the house.

  Chapter Nine

  Thork didn't laugh for long.

  When Esle came to his sleeping chamber at the palace that night, he turned her away. Too many thoughts plagued him.

  He'd been careless. Tonight, for the first time ever, he'd passed over that fine line he'd drawn long ago for his relationships with women.

  Risks! He'd talked about taking risks with Ruby. By the blood of all the gods, what had he been thinking of? His own danger concerned him little. Death rode ever at his side, a constant companion, but he cared too much for Eirik and Tykir to jeopardize their well-being.

  And Ruby? He knew that involvement with him would endanger her, as well. Did he care? Thor's blood! Of course, he did. The seductive witch had wedged her way into his heart like a jagged splinter. He closed his eyes in self-loathing and weary recriminations. It had to stop immediately. Surely it was not too late.

  If nothing else, his more than ten years of Jomsviking had taught Thork self-discipline. By morning, he had himself under control, firmly determined to keep his distance from the tempting wench. Women abounded to warm a man's bed. He needed nothing more.

  But the sight of Ruby's attractive bottom bouncing up and down on her pony in front of him as they began the first leg of their journey caused his throat to dry. Even the dark tunic she wore for traveling could not hide her graceful neck, nor the slimness of her waist and hips. Freya's bloody flux! he swore silently, then dug his heels into the sides of his mare and rode to the head of the small entourage. He refused to look at Ruby as he passed.

  It was for the best—the only course of action a man of honor could follow. Still...

  * * *

  Thork's cold demeanor had cut Ruby deeply that morning as the horses had been saddled and panniers had been placed over the small ponies' backs, overflowing with clothing and accessories for Olaf's family and the others in their traveling caravan.