Page 103 of The Reluctant Viking

She rubbed her cheek catlike against his chest and fell fast asleep. But Thork did not let her sleep much that night. He awakened her sleep-warm body soon after, whispering words of ideas he had for testing how well they matched. At one point, he teased, “’Tis good you keep your body fit with that jogging exercise of yours for you are well able to keep up with me.”

“No. You’ve got it all wrong,” Ruby countered with a laugh. “It’s good that you engage in all those military exercises so that you are able to keep up with me.”

That time Thork fell asleep, and it was Ruby who awakened him later with a jolt of surprise. She sat astride his half-erect shaft.

“A sad specimen of a man you are, Thork, that needs a woman to prod your…interest.”

He deftly flipped her over, laughing appreciatively, and showed what a specimen he actually was. In the end, he pounded against her relentlessly until she admitted his superior talents.

In the predawn light, Ruby awakened not to Thork’s lovemaking but to a slight humming noise. Thork was leaning on one elbow, watching her sleep, a slight smile turning up the edges of his relaxed mouth. He sang softly.

“What?” Ruby asked, disconcerted. “Why are you watching me? And what’s that you’re singing?” Ruby had never heard him sing, even when all the other Vikings in Sigtrygg’s hall burst into song.

“I’ve got friends in lo-o-o-ow places,” he broke out in a beautiful, husky baritone voice and showed her with his hands and a jiggle of his eyebrows just what low places he had in mind. Garth Brooks never did it so well. He sang the whole song through, to Ruby’s delight and surprise. She’d never realized he even listened to her songs.

“Now that I know you can sing so well, we’ll have to do a duet the next time I’m asked to entertain in one of the great halls.”

“The only duet I plan with you is right here under the bed linens,” Thork growled, and the song they made then was, indeed, sweet.

They slept late the next morning and did not awaken until an embarrassed Eirik entered their room at midday to inform them that King Athelstan had asked for them. Thork had forgotten the ruler’s request to meet him in his solar.

“See if you can find a servant with balding hair and a big mole on his cheek,” Thork told Eirik. “Tell him to send another tub of bath water up here.”

“A bath! On the third floor?” Eirik balked.

“Go, or I will make you carry it yourself.”

Eirik shot a disgusted look at them both and left in a grumbling snit.

Thork turned to Ruby who had the coverlet pulled up to her chin. “Do you think we shocked him?”

“More like revulsion,” Ruby said wryly as she got out of bed to search through Thork’s leather bag for some decent clothing now that he’d ruined her burgundy dress. “I’m not his favorite person, you know.”

When she dropped the coverlet, Thork inhaled sharply. “Did I do that to you?”

“What?”

“You have bruises and finger marks all over your body. I did not realize I was so rough.” He came up behind her and feather-kissed the finger bruises on her upper arms, the brush burns on her throat. “Sweet, sweet Ruby,” he murmured.

“You don’t look so great yourself,” Ruby noted as she turned in his arms and linked her arms around his neck. His lips were swollen from her kisses, and, good Lord, was that really a bite mark on his shoulder?

Thork smiled warmly at her, and Ruby’s heart lurched with the intensity of her emotion. “I love you,” she breathed against his parted lips. “No, don’t say anything,” she added, putting a finger over his mouth. “Whatever else happens with us, I want you to know that everything that I did with you last night was done for love, not because you forced me, or seduced me, or for any gain I might want.”

Thork swallowed hard, holding her eyes with his, but any words he might have said were forestalled by the arrival of the greedy servant.

Happily the sly man pulled in the tub, while Ruby leaped under the bed linens once again. A troop of young pages followed him with buckets of water, towels, soap and even a tray of food. “Thought ye might want to break yer fast with yer young lady after a night of hard work,” the ingratiating servant said. Thork rewarded him with two coins. “My pleasure, master,” he called out as he went back downstairs whistling a happy tune.

When they finally entered the king’s solar, fingers entwined, Selik already waited there for them. “I will not ask if you two got lucky last night,” he commented sarcastically. “Freya’s tit! You both look like you have rubbed each other raw. If you do not stop that smiling, King Athelstan will think you lackwitted.”

Thork glared at him, but Ruby just smiled.

At first Ruby and Selik stood in the background while Thork discussed the details of Sigtrygg’s marriage with Athelstan’s sister. Ruby was dying to see what the sister looked like, but she was nowhere in sight.

While they talked, Ruby looked around the opulent room, filled with the priceless books the young king collected. He had his scribes and clerics copying manuscripts from around the world. Fine Persian rugs warmed the stone floors, coordinated with the bright-colored tapestries and a few paintings on the walls. In fact, an artist stood in one corner painting a portrait of the king, even as he conducted his royal business.

Ruby walked over and looked. The painting showed King Athelstan presenting his favorite St. Cuthbert with a book. The young painter looked up and told Ruby, “’Twill be the first painting of an English monarch ever done. ’Tis important to King Athelstan that he be viewed as the new Charlemagne.”

He turned back to his work, and Ruby returned to Selik’s side just as Thork told the king, “My son Eirik wishes to foster here at your court along with his uncle Haakon. Wouldst you permit such?”