The Blue Viking by Sandra Hill

Author:Sandra Hill
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-06-04T22:49:32+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Rurik was frightened.

For a hardened warrior, that was a difficult admission to make. But there it was.

He could handle uneven odds in a battle, he could handle the prospect that he might die without warning, he could handle bloodshed and cruelty. What he could not handle were the overpowering feelings he was developing for Maire.

How could he be so affected in such a short time? Witchcraft? He shuddered at the possibility. There was no denying the fact that when he looked at Maire his insides melted, his heart raced, and he lost his concentration. In essence, he felt rather sick in his stomach. He could not stop touching her, or thinking about her, or smiling… Yea, he'd been doing an inordinate amount of smiling these past hours. Best he be careful, lest he start staggering about like a dreamy-eyed lackbrain.

Truth to tell, Rurik suspected he was falling in love with the witch. Not that he knew from experience how that would feel. But if it was, indeed, true, then he would have to find a way to stop it right now. Falling in love did not fit in with his plans. Nay, not at all.

There were many reasons why he could not allow himself to love a woman, but three important ones came immediately to mind:

First, he was a warrior, pure and simple. He had no other identity than that. Being arse-over-shoulders in love with a woman—especially one with the talent for turning certain body parts blue and others rock hard—would make him weak and vulnerable… something he could not countenance. He'd had love-struck soldiers under his command in the past. They soon lost their focus. Many were brought down swifter than a Saxon arrow, usually by tripping over their own feet.

Second, there was no future in loving a Scottish witch. Rurik hated the land of Alba with a passion and could scarce wait to leave its boundaries. Besides, he was betrothed to a Norse princess, and it had been a pledge made in honor, which must be upheld.

Third, Maire was his foe, and he should not forget that fact. 'Twas she who'd marked his face and subjected him to years of ridicule.

Well, at least he now knew what he must do. He had a new goal to go along with the removal of his blue tattoo. Do not love Maire.

It was late afternoon. He and Maire had been making love off and on—mostly on—since dawn, and still he could not get enough of her. Even now, as she slept in his arms, he could not tear himself away, though his belly rumbled with hunger, his body was growing rank from all the sweaty exercise, and the bed linens were uncomfortably damp. So, following his new "Do not love Maire" motto, Rurik called upon his years of discipline to avoid noticing Maire's allure as he carefully disengaged himself from her billowing red hair and clinging limbs.

Actually, he had his eyes scrunched tight. That worked, too.

He was congratulating himself a short time later when he emerged from the bedchamber without awakening Maire.

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