Viking in Love by Sandra Hill

Author:Sandra Hill
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2010-06-18T16:00:00+00:00

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.

She moved to the other side.

He moved again, and took the ink pot off the table, setting it on a shelf. That is all he would need, to return to the shire court covered in ink.

She feinted right, then left.

Hah! He was an expert swordsman. He could parry any move she made. But then he tired of the game and lunged over the table, taking her with him, up against the wall.

“Ooomph! You big oaf! You knocked the wind out of me.”

“I intend to knock more than wind out of you afore I am done.” While she had been talking, he was busy unlacing the neckline of her gown. He shrugged the gown and its sleeveless surcoat off her shoulders and down to her elbows, thus confining her arms at her side.

“You brute! ’Tis daylight and there are folks about, waiting for your return.”

He was nibbling a line along her jaw, from ear to chin, and up the other side. “They can wait. As for daylight, take another hour off the tail end of our bargain.”

“An hour!” she squealed, whether at the amount of time, or the fact he was rubbing his rock-hard cock against her cleft.

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