Page 106 of The Very Virile Viking

grandmother or Magnus to witness.

She was picking up her bag and opening the door when Magnus said. "But I love you."

Before she left, she turned slightly and told him, "There are a lot of things I'm unsure of right now, but there's one I'm certain about. Love is not enough."

Getting back in m'lady's good graces…

One week later, Magnus had grudgingly agreed to attend the halfbrained culture festival at Carmen's college, but he was not happy about it. In the end, he'd had no choice. It was either tag along with Angela and the children, or stay home brooding.

He'd decided to tag along and brood.

Carmen started in on him right off. No sooner had they exited their cars and begun walking up the steps to the big brick building than she gave him an insulting onceover examination. Then she asked, "Do you know why dumb men get married?"

Stricken, he looked quickly at Angela. Had she been discussing their personal problems with her cousin?

She shrugged her ignorance of what Carmen was talking about.

"Someone ought to tell Carmen that the smirk on her face is highly unattractive. I am thinking about introducing her to Harry, who would be just the man to put her in her proper place," Magnus told Angela in an undertone.

"Don't… you… dare," she replied.

"So they don't have to hold their stomachs in anymore," Carmen said, answering her own question.

Magnus exhaled with relief that Angela had not betrayed him by discussing their intimate lives. But then he immediately glanced down at his flat stomach. Was Carmen intimating that he was getting fat?

Carmen let loose a hoot of laughter that she had caught him once again.

He shook his head from side to side. "Carmen, you are a comely woman, though far too skinny, with way too many brains. 'Twould do you a world of good if you would dumb down—'tis an expression I heard on the tell-a-vision—which you are already doing, of course, by displaying those nipples of yours like arrowheads about to spear your next target." Well, that should shut the bothersome wench up for now.

Dagny, Kirsten, and Lily put hands over their mouths, trying to suppress their giggles. Torolf was laughing outright. The other boys were waiting with great delight for what would come next… no doubt hoping that Carmen would whomp him over the head with that arse-pack she wore around her waist.

Carmen was, indeed, speechless for a moment. She glanced down at her white tee-shert , which displayed the message, I am woman. I am invincible. I am tired . It should have had one more line: And

I have big nipples . In truth, her nipples, without any undergarment, did stick out prominently. When she regained the power of speech, she said with great vehemence, "You are so crude. Why do you… why do men… keep fixating on physical appearance?"

"You started it. You are the one who mentioned my stomach."

She ignored his words and continued: "Women will never be equal to men till they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut and still think they are hot stuff."

"There you go again, implying I have a big belly."

"Every conversation in the world is not about you… you farmer. Did you hear why the dumb farmer watered his garden with whiskey? So he could grow stewed tomatoes."

"Are you maligning farmers now?"

"No, honey, just dumb ones."

He said the only thing he could think of to say, and it was really dumb: "Nipples."

But apparently it was the right retort if he wanted to further anger the woman. Her face turned red as a… well, stewed tomato… and her painted fingernails were curving into claws.

He stepped away slightly, not taking any chances with those lethal weapons.

"Carmen… Magnus… let's call a truce here. It's going to be a long day if you two are scrapping from the get-go." It was Angela who was trying to be the peacemaker.

Magnus noticed then that all his children were watching the exchange between him and Carmen with great interest, except for Lida, who kept reciting her newest word over and over, "La-La, La-La, La-La…" It was short for Angela. He could tell that Angela was immensely pleased by Lida's affectionate chanting of her name, especially when she interspersed her babbling with wet kisses to her cheek. What was it about women throughout the ages that they went all soft and melty over kisses? He would like to plant a few on Angela and see if she went all soft and melty for him.

"I agree," Carmen conceded, "but I'll tell you one last thing, Angela. You are a wine maker, so you should recognize that men are like fine wines. They start out like grapes, but it takes a good woman to stomp them till they mature into something even remotely above the level of a slug."