Her Viking Wolves by Theodora Taylor

Author:Theodora Taylor [Taylor, Theodora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781942167044
Publisher: Rom Tell That

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

TIARA

So that happened.

This time when I wake between FJ and Olafr, the room is still dark but the beautiful moon is gone. What I’ve come to know as a typical Alaska winter morning.

But I’m too hungry to care about the gloomy darkness. Right now, the fact that I haven’t eaten a full meal in over twenty-fours hours is the only thing that matters.

With lots of turning and wiggling and pushing on heavily muscled bodies, I somehow manage to get out from between them. But it’s not easy. By the time I’m done, I’m breathing hard and even hungrier than I was when I first woke up.

But still, I can’t resist taking a few seconds to look at them once I’m out of the bed.

“Yours always,” I whisper out loud. And I feel the truth of it in my bones.

As crazy as all this is, they have my heart now. I know this as I watch them sleep, hardly able to believe these two beautiful Viking brothers are my mates.

I’ve never had a chance to look at them side by side like this before—well once, I think, remembering our first meeting in the clinic. But that didn’t count, because I was more interested in running from them than anything else.

That was then. This is now.

Now I let myself stare without any reservation whatsoever. They look so at peace in the large bed. The harsh edges of their faces relaxed, like they just top-leveled a game and earned a good rest.

Seriously, I was mad at Tu before but now I feel like she understated the hell out of their looks. They are so freaking fine, despite my empty stomach I’m almost tempted to—

I pause in my lustful thoughts, waiting for the inevitable heat explosion. Nothing.

That’s when I realize…Oh God, I’m pregnant.

Me. Tiara Greenwolf, the woman who designs and plays video games for a living and drinks way too much Mountain Dew, is going to be a mama.

During my short-lived engagement to Kyle, I’d planned to slowly wean myself off all the soda, junk food, and eighteen-hour work days. But that hadn’t gone as I’d hoped and now I’m pregnant. And starving.

Well, food first, I guess.

I walk over to FJ’s closet and open the doors. Only to find five dark suits with five matching white shirts hanging inside. There’s nothing else. I check the built-in cedar drawers, but only one is full of underwear and socks and the rest are empty. No jeans. Not even a sign of Mag’s “Thug King” sweatshirt.

How bizarre. Yeah, I realize FJ hasn’t exactly been here long enough to go on a shopping spree or anything. But there are more than enough big men in this house who he could borrow clothes from. You’d think, considering he came from a culture that places a lot of value in wearable clothes, he’d be interested in some of the more comfortable attire of this era. But apparently, FJ is dressing exclusively like a businessman now.

No, not like a businessman, I realize, regarding the suits.

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