Ragnar - Lord of Jaegar

by Sasha Gold

  The way she responded to my touch has primitive lust clawing my mind. She thinks she can’t have an orgasm? I’m going to give my innocent Rebecca her first. I don’t know why she’s resisting this arrangement. Maybe she thought it would be a marriage in name only, but it’s going to be a marriage in every sense of the word.

  The sun is high in the sky and I’m ready to take her home and eat lunch. I’m ravenous. I’m also ready to talk to her about the future. Our future.

  I plow through the mud, not caring how dirty we get. She cowers against me like getting lower will protect her from the rain of dirt. I glance back and find her looking up at me with a mud-spattered but gorgeous face. She shakes her head like she’s furious but the spark in her eye tells me she’s having as much fun as me.

  Slowing the ATV, I speak to her over my shoulder. “Don’t women pay a lot of money for those fancy spas to put mud on their faces?”

  She frowns. “They give you a massage after.”

  “Sounds good to me, Rebecca.”

  The small squeeze she gives me is probably meant as some sort of rebuke but all it does is stoke my already molten lust.

  When we get back to the house, I let her off at the front door. She clasps my shoulders as she swings her leg over the four-wheeler. Turning away from me, she’s about to slink inside, some sort of walk-of-shame that I won’t stand for. I grab her wrist and pull her to the side of the ATV for a long, dirty, in every sense of the word, kiss.

  I don’t care who sees me kiss her. At first, she squirms and wriggles and tries to break free, but I up the ante by dropping my hand to squeeze her ass. It’s a declaration that she’s mine. Too fast? Maybe. But that’s the way this is going to play.

  “I have work to do after I clean up and grab a bite from the kitchen. You and I are going to talk some more at dinner.”

  “Okay.” Her voice is soft and I can see the retreat in her eyes. Everything that just happened has her worried and confused.

  She turns away and goes up the stairs, her shoes squishing with each step. At the door, she stops to glance over her shoulder. Wet, muddy hair. Soggy clothes. She’s a beautiful mess.

  After I clean up and eat, I spend the rest of the afternoon with Davy, looking over a shipment of horses that arrived. Usually, looking at the rescue horses interests me, but all I can think of is Rebecca.

  The day takes longer than I’d like because of two geldings who don’t seem to get along. Davy and I put the group in a paddock but have to separate the troublemaker and put him in a corral by himself. Often the horses arrive too weak or sick to kick up much of a fuss. I should be glad this group has a little piss and vinegar. It’s a good sign.

  By the time I call it a day, head home and wash up for dinner, it’s after dark.

  I’m eager to talk with Rebecca and put my cards on the table. She’ll object to how fast things are moving, but I’m ready for more.

  I find her in the kitchen talking with Margie. My cook is explaining how everyone on the ranch is sick of me prowling around like a lion with a thorn in my paw. That I need a wife. Company. That they’d hoped the agency would send someone suitable.

  When I walk in, Margie turns to the stove and busies herself with the cooking. I’m not sure why Rebecca looks so alarmed. Maybe it’s because of what happened his morning.

  I lead her outside, back to the terrace. It’s hard to believe that last night we stood here and I kissed her for the first time.

  “I wanted a wife. I no idea someone like you would come along.”

  A small murmur of dismay comes from her lips. Shadows play across her lovely face as a cloud drifts past the moon. In the half-light, she looks so young, so innocent, so perfect. I’m scarred and years older and have no business even touching her or keeping her for myself.

  But that won’t stop me.

  I pull the black, velvet box from my pocket. Her hand flies to her heart and she gasps.

  “Who is that for?” she whispers.

  “You, of course. If you’ll have me.”

  “If I’ll have you?”

  Snapping the box open I show her the ring, a five-carat emerald-cut diamond on a platinum band. “Say yes, Rebecca.”

  She lifts her gaze from the ring to look into my eyes and swallows hard.

  “I’ve been waiting my whole life for you. Say yes.”

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  I see the look of determination in her eyes. The alarm. I know she cares for me, but this is too much, too fast. She’s young and skittish. Not me. I’ve had happiness snatched from me one too many times. I see what I want. I’m going for it.

  “Okay, Rebecca. I know this is fast and maybe we should wait the full week. Don’t say yes, say maybe.”

  She nods slowly. “Maybe.”

  I feel happiness bloom inside me. Relief. Hope. Joy. A hundred different new emotions. “And wear this ring.”

  She nods again.

  The ring slips onto her finger easily. A perfect fit.

  Pulling her into my arms, I kiss her, gently at first, but then more firmly. She’s as good as mine now and I’ve been completely hers since the first moment. The way she melts in my arms, her sweet surrender, makes a primitive need grip me.

  “We can get married in front of a JP and have a bigger ceremony later if you like, Rebecca. I want you in my bed. Now. Yesterday.”

  Her face is pale. It’s almost as if she didn’t think this was possible.

  “I need a little time, Will.”

  “Of course. I’ll give you time. But we’re getting married.”

  She nods and steps out of my embrace. “I can’t think when you touch me. Promise me you won’t until we’re married.”

  “Don’t you trust me?” I take a few steps toward her and she retreats.

  “I don’t trust myself. We need to have some rules, or at least one rule, that we don’t touch until we marry.”

  I try to keep from smiling. She just acknowledged that we’d marry. “You don’t want me to kiss you good night?”

  I’m teasing her, and yet I’m not. I want much more than a good night kiss. She’s terrified for some reason and I want to reassure her. I want to remind her of what’s to come.

  “I do want you to kiss me good night. Very much. That’s the problem.”

  “All right,” I say from between gritted teeth. “But you can’t take that ring off.”

  “Fine,” she says reluctantly. “We both have rules, don’t we?”

  Chapter Seven

  Rebecca

  The next morning, I wake to a knock at the door and a servant enters with a vase of roses. She sets them on the table and leaves with nothing more than a smile. I toss back the blankets and cross the room to admire the large bouquet. An envelope lies beside the vase.

  I pick it up and finger the gold trim wondering how Will Branson will surprise me today.

  Yesterday’s ride on the four-wheeler was exhilarating. I loved wrapping my arms around him and the way his powerful body felt against mine.

  I’d returned covered in mud, but I didn’t care. When I’d gotten home, Ben greeted me on the steps. He’d giggled at my appearance. I’d teased him by stretching my muddy hands out to him, threatening to tickle him. Those were the first words I spoke to Will’s nephew, but he’d grinned with delight when I told him I had ridden the four-wheeler with Will.

  I suppose four-year-old boys think women covered head-to-toe in mud must be all right.

  And then, Margie told me he’d told the staff he was sending off for a bride. I couldn’t have been more astonished. When he’d slipped the ring on my finger, I’d barely been able to breathe, much less respond.

  I’m not sure if he thinks I came to the ranch as part of an arrangement with Atkinson and Wainwright. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that they are behind all this, but how exactly would I phrase that question? I feel like a fool. And I have no one to blame but myself.

  Last night at dinner, we spoke very little. I wa
s in shock and I think he noticed. He’d smile at me every so often, with a tenderness in his eyes that melted my heart and made me regret the promise of no touching. Often my thoughts strayed to the morning’s swim. My skin prickled and slick arousal shimmered along my senses.

  My mind was in such turmoil, I couldn’t imagine how to tell him I wasn’t who he thought I was. After the meal, I’d gone to my room to try to recover my senses. I’d taken a bath and collapsed into my bed not waking until the servant came to the door with the flowers.

  I opened the envelope and read the letter.

  My sweet Rebecca,

  I wanted to see you last night. I imagined you lying in bed wearing a delicate, lacy gown. Of course, I didn’t enter your room. I didn’t want to frighten you and I knew how much you would tempt me.

  I never imagined a woman who would make my heart beat once again. I will agree to any promise, give you anything you want and protect you from any harm. In return, all I ask is that you take my scarred heart and always be by my side.

  I am yours,

  Will.

  My hands shake as I read the letter. The words make my heart squeeze with a mix of tenderness and shock. Will told me plainly that he’d contracted with a bridal agency. Margie knew too and I wonder if Davy did as well. Of course. He must have. He’d made several comments on the way to the ranch and they made perfect sense now.

  Will doesn’t know I work in the accounting department for Atkinson and Wainwright. Somehow my assignment got mixed up with one of the special requests some clients make. My mind drifts back to the underwear model I had to research and hire to escort one of our clients to a gala in New York.

  I fall back onto the bed and try to imagine how I can possibly explain any of this to Will. Something tells me he’ll be furious with me. The ring on my hand is gorgeous, glinting in the morning sun. He bought it for a woman who would travel to the ranch for the sole purpose of marrying him. And he gave it to me, the accountant who came to help set up a nonprofit.

  With mail order brides, don’t men usually pick a woman from some sort of selection? How could he not know?

  Not only will he be furious but I’ll be fired. Disgraced.

  While I get dressed, I pause every so often to admire the beautiful ring. I should give it back to him, but if I take it off, I’ll be breaking his rule and then he might break mine. A shiver of worry rolls up my spine.

  I dress in a skirt, silk blouse and heels. After I apply a little makeup, I straighten my hair and leave it loose, hanging down my back. With my heart in my throat, I head downstairs, passing the kitchen. Margie looks up from the stove. Her furrowed brow and down-turned lips make me wonder what’s wrong. I’m about to ask what’s the matter when I hear Will speaking to a woman in the dining room.

  As I walk down the hallway I take note of the sound of his voice. Clipped. Angry.

  The woman’s voice is sultry and edged with a foreign accent.

  “You will still have to pay,” she says.

  “It makes no difference to me.”

  “I can spend night. Maybe you like me better.”

  My hand flies to my mouth and I stop, my courage failing me entirely.

  “I am very good,” she murmurs. “I can show you many things.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Arrogant American.”

  The floor creaks beneath my feet. Will appears in the doorway, a scowl etched deep into his features.

  “Why don’t you come into my office, Rebecca?”

  His voice is a snarl, and he emphasizes my name in a way that makes my blood run cold.

  “Okay,” I breathe. “I can do that.”

  When I step into the office, I’m faced with a gorgeous redhead, her voluptuous body crammed into a tight blue dress. Her neckline shows off her cleavage, a necklace with a diamond hangs between her enormous breasts. She gives me a sneer and a once-over. When her gaze lands on my ring, she looks furious.

  “This is Sofia. She’s from the agency.” Will sits at his desk. “I told her I was already engaged.”

  The woman grunts and turns away.

  “Do you suppose they sent two women?” Will asks me, his tone quiet, but dangerous. “On accident.”

  I sink into a chair and try my best to find some sort of response. Of course, they didn’t, but if I admit that, he’ll want to know who I am and why am I at the ranch.

  “You need to pick,” Sofia snaps at him.

  “I already have,” he shoots back.

  For an instant, I wonder if he means he’s picking her over me. My mind is churning with confusion and I don’t think that’s what he means, but I can’t say for sure. Sofia looks like a model. Like an actress. She’s probably a head taller than me. She’s all boobs and hips. Any man would be crazy not to want her.

  I twist the ring on my finger and Will glares at me, shaking his head imperceptibly. Sofia watches too, with a great deal of interest. She’s practically drooling over the rock Will gave me. I’m sure she’s thinking it should be on her finger, not mine. She might be right. I feel like such a fraud.

  “Are you pleading the fifth?” Will asks me.

  I nod vigorously. “That’s it. The fifth.”

  “What’s that?” Sofia asks, eyeing us suspiciously, like we’re talking in code. “Five what?”

  Will shakes his head and gets up from his chair. “Come with me, Sofia. I’m going to have one of my men run you back to the airport.”

  A flurry of foreign words spill from her mouth as she jerks up from the chair and storms from the room.

  Will narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t you go anywhere.”

  I nod, but the moment I hear the door close, I jump to my feet and fly upstairs. Yanking my suitcase from the closet I curse all the things I’ve brought. A week’s worth of professional clothing. It will take me too long to pack and there’s no way I’ll be able to catch a ride with Sofia. I’ll have to beg Will to call for another ranch hand to run me to the airport.

  He looked so mad at me, I could hardly bear it. This morning I’d woken to a sweet, heartfelt note, the most romantic thing I’ve ever read, and now I’m trying to steal away like a thief in the night.

  Only I’m a mistaken bride.

  And it’s ten in the morning.

  I want to take the ring off, I swear I do, but I have this crazy notion that I need to have his permission. This entire thing is crazy. I yank the zipper down on my suitcase and throw open the lid. Standing in the back of my walk-in closet, I hear a noise. Footsteps, I think.

  And then Will appears in the doorway of the closet, filling the frame with his immense body. Standing in the opening, he lifts his hands to grip the doorframe above him. The stance makes him look huge and the dark expression on his face makes him look more than a little intimidating.

  Clutching a stack of cardigans, I try to coax air into my lungs.

  “Rebecca,” he says softly. “You didn’t come here to be my bride, did you?”

  He’s got me trapped and while I don’t feel threatened, I’m positive he won’t let me leave until he gets answers.

  “No.”

  “Who do you work for?”

  There’s no way I can tell him this. It’s impossible. He’s toying with me, some sort of cat and mouse game. As soon as this is over, I’ll have to go back to my real life. One that includes bills and loans. A man like him could never comprehend my existence, how I live paycheck to paycheck.

  “I’m not telling you.”

  His lips tilt with a smile that is more menace than amusement. “Are you under contract with someone?”

  Gripping my sweaters, I nod. “Pretty much.”

  His gaze drifts down my body, igniting a trail of sparks across my skin. Thank goodness, I left the ring on my hand. I’m certain he wouldn’t ever harm me, but I know he wants me in his bed. His whole body tenses with anger and his eyes burn with lust.

  “This week was part of an assignment?” he asks.

  I consider the que
stion which is hard to do with him looming over me. It’s a question I can answer without giving away anything. “Yes.”

  “Did you sign a nondisclosure agreement?”

  “No.”

  “I gave you free rein to look at all my personal documents.”

  “Will, I would never compromise that kind of information.”

  He closes in on me, stalking the length of the narrow space. “Who are you?”

  “Rebecca,” I whisper. “Rebecca Bloom.”

  He glances down at the clothes in my arms and his mouth twists into a cruel smile. “You think you’re leaving?”

  “I thought you would want me to go.”

  Bumping into the wall, I let out a small yelp. I wasn’t aware that I’d been retreating from him and now I’m pressed against the wall. He sets a hand on either side of my body, caging me.

  “You can’t touch me, Will.”

  “Not until we’re married.” His breath fans across my skin, making me shiver.

  A gasp falls from my lips. “You can’t mean that.”

  “I always mean what I say, Rebecca.”

  “I think you’re messing with me. You have been since I got here. I should go. I need a ride to the airport, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “It is too much trouble.”

  “I suppose I’ll hitchhike.”

  I’ve never actually done that before because hitchhiking would definitely be filed in the part of my brain under “Things That Aren’t Prudent.”

  “If you leave, I’ll hunt you down. I’ll find you.”

  A shimmer of wicked arousal heats my senses. His tone is soft, but his words pure threat. I should be indignant, maybe even afraid, but I’m anything but afraid.

  “And… what?” I whisper.

  “I’ll bring you back here.”

  “I thought you never leave the ranch.”

  “For you I would.”

  The idea that he’d do something he hates to do, just to track me down, makes my heart beat even faster. I’ve never imagined anyone looking at me with such savage possessiveness. His eyes glint with feral need.

  “I’m expected back next week,” I tell him. “They know where I am. They’ll come looking for me.”