Page 100 of Viking Unchained

“I’m not letting you go.”

“That’s good, because I’m not letting you go, either. You can skedaddle off to California, or Timbuktu, but you won’t escape me. I intend to make you fall in love with me.”

Ski-dad-hull? Tim-buck-what? He smiled, he could not help himself. “Such passion! Is it possible to make a person fall in love? By the by, you never said . . . do you love me?”

“Of course, I love you.”

“So, you intend to wage an assault on me ’til I surrender with love?”

“Exactly.”

“Wage on,” he said.

And she did. She released her seat belt and his, and with Miklof still asleep in the back seat, she squirmed onto his lap and kissed and kissed and kissed him. Her tongue was even in his mouth. His tongue might have crept into her mouth. For a certainty, his cock was saluting her enthusiasm.

Finally, when he was able to take her by the shoulders and set her back on her own seat, she said, “Did it work yet?”

“Nay, methinks I will need more convincing. After all, love does not come easily to a Norseman.”

She grinned . . . a wicked, purely enticing grin. “Batten down the hatches, Mr. Viking, because you haven’t seen anything ’til you’ve seen a determined Minnesota Viking.”

Beware of women with

vibrators . . .

Lydia and Mike had been back in California for two weeks, and while Finn had come to see them—or at least come to see Mike—there had been no opportunity for her to be alone with the man and try to make him fall in love with her. If that was even possible.

“I’m desperate,” Lydia said on a long sigh. “Finn says he cares about me, but he doesn’t love me. How can I marry a man who doesn’t love me? I mean, marriage is hard enough for two people in love,” she said to Kirstin, Madrene, Alison, and a newcomer to her pole-dancing class—Torolf’s wife, Hilda.

They were all at the Hotel Del, enjoying a Sunday brunch, while Mike was playing video games at a neighbor’s house.

“I do not see why you would even want that hard-headed, arrogant, lackwitted son of a troll,” Hilda said, licking her lips and moaning with delight at the sinful strawberry and cream crepes she was devouring.

“Aren’t all men like that?” Lydia laughed, especially when the other four women nodded vigorously.

She’d already had a mushroom and cheese omelette with a croissant and was eyeing the fresh fruit plate on a neighboring table.

“He should be chasing you, honey. Maybe you could try making him jealous,” Kirstin suggested. “It’s a good thing we don’t come here very often. I’d be a blimp.” She and Madrene had ordered homemade waffles with blueberries and maple syrup.

“Never happen.” These four women were physically fit, none overweight. She liked to think she was at least partly responsible for that.

“I think you need a very specific plan. And that means lists. Does anyone have a pen and paper?” This from Kirstin, the college professor in her coming to the fore.

“Okay, you tried telling him you loved him. Now you need to hit him where he is most sensitive,” Alison said.

There was a short silence before Madrene blurted out, “His cock.”

“Madrene!” the rest of them exclaimed with shock, but they were all laughing.

“His manpart, then. Same thing.”

Kirstin wrote SEX on her list.

“My biggest problem is getting Finn to be alone with me. This preSEAL training is consuming so much of his time.”

“Too bad you can’t just tie him to a chair . . .” Hilda’s words trailed off.

“Or a bed,” Kirstin added.