Page 57 of The Reluctant Viking

When they’d lain in each other’s arms afterwards, Jack had nuzzled her neck. “Let’s get married—now! We can drive out of state, get married by a justice of the peace and be back at my apartment by Sunday night. I have three hundred dollars in my checking account.”

“Now? Today?” Ruby’s brain had still felt muddled from their lovemaking. He couldn’t be serious, she’d thought.

“Yes. I want you to come back to school with me. I don’t want to be there if you’re not with me. Please, Rube, marry me.”

“This is just lust speaking, Jack,” Ruby had commented, with a shaky laugh.

“Yeah! Ain’t it great?” he’d responded with the drop-dead grin she’d always found irresistible, and Ruby had felt a deep throbbing begin in her center once again. Then he’d begun a new assault on her already weakened senses. “I love you, Rube. I’ll never love any other woman,” Jack had whispered as they sank to the soft autumn bed. “We can make it work. We can…”

Words hadn’t been necessary after that as they made sweet, sweet love for the second time in the most gorgeous setting any bride could ever want.

They hadn’t eloped that weekend, but they’d convinced both their parents of their seriousness. The formal wedding had taken place over Christmas vacation, and Ruby had returned to Jack’s university with him. Thanks to the financial help of both sets of parents, part-time jobs, Jack’s scholarship and some extremely frugal living conditions, including postage-stamp-size apartments, both had managed to graduate from college four years later.

As the fog of memories began to dim, Ruby realized she still lay on the Viking pallet with eyes squeezed shut, her body shuddering with silent sobs she didn’t want her wretched guard to overhear. Jack’s words lingered in her mind: “We can make it work.”

What a fool she’d been!

“Do you weep for want of me or for your sorry fate?”

Huh? Jack hadn’t said that.

Ruby’s eyes shot open to the sight of Jack—no, Thork—leaning against the open doorway of her tower room, arms and legs crossed. She hadn’t even heard the door open.

Standing up, she asked him huffily, “How long have you been standing there ogling me? Why aren’t you off sucking up to the tarantula?”

“Sucking up?” Thork questioned on a laugh. “Can I assume ‘tarantula’ is a spider?”

“You got it!”

“Your manner of speaking—’tis ever a puzzle.” Thork shook his head quizzically.

“You think my language is odd. I’ve heard enough ’twas-es and ’tis-es and ’twoulds to last me a lifetime.”

Thork laughed easily.

Ruby narrowed her eyes. What was up now? A short time ago the brute had shook her and almost slapped her face. Now he stood here laughing as if nothing were wrong. He was just like Jack in that regard. A short fuse, quick outburst, and then an equally rapid recovery.

“So, is the torture going to begin now? Will you do it here, or should we move out into the bailey so everyone can watch? If we had more time, we could serve popcorn and slurpees. Hey, why not give the whip to your spider friend? I’ll bet she could do a good job of skinning me alive.”

Thork looked appalled at her words.

“Halt thy wicked tongue, woman. Linette is not as you think.”

“Hah!”

Thork still hadn’t moved from his nonchalant stance near the door. He gazed at her intently, seeming to look for answers to some great mystery.

“Why are you watching me so strangely? What am I being accused of now?”

Thork shrugged uncomfortably. “Naught do I accuse you of,” he started to explain, then seemed to shift course, “but I wonder what you dreamt of before you started weeping. You were making love in your dreams, were you not? Was it your husband, Jack?”

Ruby felt her face flush and pressed her fingertips to her cheek, wondering if the finger welts from Dar’s slap were still there.

“The tips of your breasts swelled with passion even as you slept,” Thork continued relentlessly. “You arched your womanhood and spread your thighs wantonly. You even moaned.”

Involuntarily, Ruby looked down, then crossed her arms across her chest in embarrassment. The tips of her swollen breasts were, indeed, clearly outlined under her thin T-shirt.

“By the faith! Surely you do not turn shy on me now—after all the outrageous things you have said and done.”