Page 49 of The Very Virile Viking

"They are my one shortcoming," he confessed dolefully.

He was actually serious. The fool !

"From the time I was a youthling, my brothers teased me about my big ears. Do you mind overmuch?"

"Actually, I think they're rather endearing."

"Endearing ears? I like that," he said, and winked at her.

Good Lord, is my heart really pumping so fast just because of a wink? Well, not any wink. I must remember how much I dislike this brute. I must, must, must.

"Why do you have your hand over your heart?" he inquired in a too-silky voice.

He knew. The brute knew what effect he had on her.

Then she recalled something else he'd said. "Your big ears are your only shortcoming? My, my! You can't say that you suffer a humility problem, can you?"

"Are you making jest of me, m'lady?" he asked, and, quick as a wink, he grabbed her ankle and pulled her down beside him, hard on her rump, then flat on her back.

"Good work, Father," Hamr yelled from the pond.

"Go dunk your head, Hamr," his father yelled back.

"Jogeir gave me a wedgie in the pond," Njal complained.

"What is a wedgie?" Magnus wanted to know.

"I did not," Jogeir said, and shoved Njal underwater, which caused Njal to pull him under, too. They both came up laughing.

Shaking her head at all the unfamiliar commotion, Angela raised herself on her elbows. Lida noticed her just then and rushed up like a tiny Energizer bunny, gurgling, "Goo, goo, goo," and handed her a bunch of dandelions mixed with pink daisies, all smushed together.

"Oh, Lida, how pretty!" she cooed. "Can I give you a thank-you kiss?"

The precious darling leaned her cheek forward for the thank-you kiss, a trick Magnus had been teaching her today—probably to remind Angela of his own thank-you kiss the night before.

She gave him a quick sideways glance. Uh-oh ! She saw the gleam in his eyes, the way his gaze lingered on her lips, then made a slow perusal of her body down to her breasts, then back to her lips again. Yep, he's remembering the same thing I am .

No way was she waiting for him to bring it up. "Darrell called a bit ago. He wants to know if you've had a chance to read the script he express-mailed to you today."

He shook his head, and his face flushed with some embarrassment. "I do not understand why he wants me to read this script thing. In truth, I am not proficient in reading your version of the English language. I

have no trouble with Saxon English, but Ah-mare-ee-can English is vastly different. Oh, I can pick up words here and there, but it would take me a week to read those parchment pages he sent. I have better things to do, like learn grape growing."

Darrell was not going to be pleased by this. Would he blame her? Would Magnus's reluctance jeopardize Darrell's deal with her? She'd better try to smooth this wrinkle out… and soon.

"I could teach you to read English… our version of English." Really, though, wasn't the written English in Britain the same as in the United States… or nearly the same?

"Maybe… if I have time," he conceded.

"You don't have to work with Miguel, you know."

"Yea, I do."

"Why?"

"Because, if for some reason I am unable to return to the Norselands, I must adapt to this country…

learn new skills."