Page 73 of Viking in Love

Thomas was not convinced. “I am aggrieved, wife. Ye must prove ta me how sorry ye are.”

Breanne could pretty well guess what that involved.

“Thomas, you have proven your case, with Lady Breanne’s help,” Caedmon ruled, then gave Breanne a winning smile. “Go in peace, Thomas. And, you, Eadgifu, do not let me see you in this court again. If you know not who the father is, have the good sense to pick a man you have actually tupped with.”

“I thought I had,” Eadgifu shot back. “But then all men are the same in the dark, are they not?”

A lot of sniggering and hoots of laughter rippled through those gathered in the hall as an audience. But Breanne would not have known that. She was too busy peaking all over Caedmon’s busy fingers.

She arched her neck and closed her eyes to prevent herself from shouting out her bliss. When she opened her eyes, the lout was watching her. “You look flushed, m’lady,” he said. “Wouldst care for a cool drink?” He removed his wandering hand and reached for a cup of ale.

“Nay, I do not want a drink. You think you are so clever. Well, how do you like this?” It was her hand now in his lap, embracing his already hard phallus. She began to rub up and down.

Caedmon made a gurgling sound, deep in his throat, and shuddered.

“You look flushed, m’lord,” she said coyly. “Mayhap you need a cup of ale…” In a whisper, she added, “poured over a certain body part.”

With a laugh, she released him, stood, and began to walk away, figuring she had had the last word.

But behind her, she heard Caedmon tell those left in the great hall, including those in line to be heard. “Let us break for an hour or so. I have an important matter to settle elsewhere.”

Glancing back over her shoulder, Breanne saw Caedmon coming after her, and she knew, without a doubt, the way he wanted to settle said matter. She ran till she reached the small-accounts room and attempted to slam the door, but his booted foot was already inside.

“Well, well, well,” Caedmon said, leaning back against the closed door. “What shall we do now?”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A wall banger, for sure…

How could he have been so blind?

Breanne…the princess, the witch, the wench, the lady, the for God’s sake carpenter, or whatever she chose to be at any given time…was every man’s dream of a bedmate. When he first met her, he had thought she was naught more than a shrewish, irksome, plain woman of no particular attraction. She was just the opposite. Oh, she was still irksome and shrewish on occasion, but her attributes were beyond beautiful. To him, if no one else.

Leaning back against the closed door, he stared at her as she fidgeted behind a table in the center. Then she began to arrange in neat piles a Far East abacus, several sheets of vellum, an ink pot, a thick candle, wax, and a seal. There were also beaded sticks of different colors, which he used to keep a tally on the number of sheep, cattle, hogs, goats, and other animals in his possession.

“I could help you with your accounts.”

“Gerard does that for me.”

“Pfff! Look at this mess.”

He shrugged. “And when would you have time for this? Before or after you build me a new keep, take care of the household and kitchens, arrange the butchering, and what else? Oh, I know…share my bed.”

“Well, I am thinking about teaching the children their numbers and letters until a new God-man comes for your chapel and tutoring, or until I leave here, whichever comes first.”

He stiffened. “You overstep your bounds. I did not ask you to do all these things.”

“They needed doing. I am only trying to help.”

“And yet you fail to complete the one duty I ask of you.”

“What would that be?”

He waved a hand toward his crotch. “You cannot tease a man to enthusiasm, then leave him hard and wanting.”

Her laughter was a big mistake.

He moved toward the table.