Vanquishing A Viking

by Nancy Dillman

  Like a spy in an old World War II movie, she poised her phone camera over the map and started shooting. Click, click, click. She stopped after five snaps.

  There, mission accomplished. Mata Hari move over.

  A noise outside startled her. Damn! Gudrun was coming back. Without rolling up the map, she tossed it and the ribbon into the chest. Then, just as the heavy oak door creaked open, she skidded the phone over the floor into the shadows, silently praying it would stay hidden until she could retrieve it later.

  But, it wasn’t Gudrun who materialized in the doorway. It was a sinister phantom that made her blood curdle.

  *****

  Stein awakened and found himself alone. He’d expected Esme to be curled up beside him, but she was not in his bed. He wandered through the curtain into the darkened front room, lit only by the fire’s dying embers. His mother was gently snoring in her bed on the raised platform, but otherwise the room was empty.

  Where could Esme be? A deep cold settled over him. Could she be with his father? The thought made him sick to his stomach.

  He stumbled outside, half-naked, propelled by a rage so intense, he knew with utter certainty he would kill Magnus if he found Esme with him. He would kill them both if his fears proved true.

  Staggering through the dark, he made his way to Magnus’s longhouse, his fury mounting with each step. Esme had lied to him. LIED to him. She was just as deceitful as Margit. Just as cold and selfish.

  But it didn’t make sense. Their reconciliation earlier had been sincere. She cared for him. He would swear to it on the life of his beloved mother.

  Doubts assailed him as he leaned against the wall of the longhouse. Was Esme loyal to him or had her earlier encounter with Magnus shown her what she had to gain? Did she choose him over Stein, just as Margit had?

  His stomach lurched, doubling him over. Retching, he heaved up everything he’d eaten at supper.

  He shouldn't be surprised. Deep within, he knew he was a failure. A weak-willed fool, who couldn’t keep his woman. He was gutless, as well. He should have challenged his father months ago instead of giving in to his fears of a blood feud. He was as useless as an old woman and just as weak.

  Despair washed over him like a tidal wave as he opened the door to Magnus’s dwelling and stepped inside. He froze, unable to absorb the scene laid out before him. There she was, standing next to Magnus’s bed, trembling like a birch leaf and naked as a used whore.

  His head throbbed in agony. Maybe it would explode and scatter his brains over the floor at Esme’s feet.

  She had already ripped out his heart.

  “Stein,” she whispered, her skin as pale as moonlight.

  He stalked toward her.

  She put her finger to her lips. “Don’t wake him, Stein. Whatever you do, don’t wake him up. Please.”

  “Get outside now,” he seethed between clenched teeth.

  “My clothes.” She pointed to a small pile some distance away on the floor.

  “Get out of here now, Esme, or I swear I’ll...”

  She spread out her hands like a beggar. “I can’t go outside like this.”

  He seized her slim arm and pulled her to him. “Leave it.”

  “But...”

  “Shut up.” He swept her into his arms and charged into the night. Her heart pounded so hard, he felt it through his bandages.

  She was afraid, and she had good reason to be. His outrage, and his pain, knew no bounds. He had no idea what he was about to do to her, but she would rue the day she'd been born. He had had enough! Stein Magnuson would not be cuckolded again.

  “Stein, listen to me, please. It’s not what you think.”

  He pressed her tighter against his chest. “I told you to be silent, woman.”

  She whimpered like a pup and then was quiet.

  He entered his house and strode through the curtain into his bedroom. He threw her onto his bed, but she immediately jumped to her feet.

  Naked and cold, she stood like a frightened child, hiding her female parts with her hands. Her body trembled from the chill air, and her skin was pebbled with goose flesh, but there was fire in her eyes. Why did that not surprise him? She seemed to think she could defy him whenever she wanted. Well, he had news for her.

  “You will tell me what happened and you will be truthful.” He kept his voice low. The last thing he needed was to wake his mother.

  “What’s the point?” she said in a firm voice. “You won’t believe me anyway.”

  He was shaking too, but not from the cold. He thrust his forefinger at her. “I have treated you with consideration because you are an outsider, with customs unfamiliar to us. I have not beaten you nor have I used you cruelly in any way, yet you continue to defy me at every turn.”

  “Gee, thanks,” she spit out, her green eyes flashing. “You’ve been such a gentleman.”

  “Don’t push me, Esme. I’m close to breaking, and I guarantee you don’t want to see that happen.”

  His mother stepped into the room. Damn!

  “What’s going on here?” She stared at Esme’s nakedness. “She was with Magnus,” Stein said, barely controlling his temper. "I will deal with her, Mother. Now, get out of here."

  “But, Stein...” Ulla said, picking up the felted wool blanket off the bed.

  “Leave us alone, Mother.” He glared at her in warning. “I’ll handle this as I see fit.”

  “Yes, my son.” Ulla dropped the blanket and retreated to the other room. “Do not hurt her, Stein. You can sell her...”

  “Yes, sell me and get your precious money back,” Esme snapped, stepping towards him.

  “Be quiet, both of you,” he bellowed. “I'm warning you, Mother.”

  “Do not harm her,” Ulla cautioned as she stepped through the curtain.

  “How can I be quiet and tell you what happened at the same time?” Esme stamped her foot. “You have no idea why I was in your father’s longhouse, yet you immediately jump to the erroneous conclusion that we were having sex. How dare you!”

  He dug his fingers into his palms. “Don’t argue with me. You are naked. What else could you have been doing?”

  "You're wrong!" She wrapped her arms tightly about her middle. “And I’ll argue with you until you realize you’re being a big, fat bonehead.”

  Fury surged through his veins, and he was a hair’s breadth from losing control.

  “I knew he wanted you,” he spat out, his mouth dry as sand. “I saw the way he looked at you yesterday, appraising you like a wolf sizing up a lamb.”

  “So what?” She unfurled her arms and planted her hands on her hips. “So what if he wanted me? The point is, I don’t want him. Do you hear me, Stein? I-DON'T-WANT-HIM.”

  “Then why did you go to him? You promised not to, if I recall.” His voice thundered off the walls and ceiling. "You said you'd never leave me."

  She wrapped her arms about herself again and didn’t answer him. “May I please put something on? I’m freezing.”

  “No, you may not.”

  “You really are an asshole,” she said, teeth chattering. She reached for the blanket on the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. “There. Don’t you just love how I follow orders?”

  The blood rushed in his ears like a raging waterfall. “I demand to know why you went to Magnus.”

  “I had to. I didn’t tell you, because I knew you’d never understand my actions. But I had a very good reason.”

  He didn’t know what to make of her answer. What could she possibly want with Magnus, besides sex, that would require her to be naked? It was preposterous.

  "I am the man who owns you, Esme. You are my woman, not his. By Odin’s left ball! I’ve treated you well, yet you leave me to be with him. I thought you cared for me. I don’t understand it.”

  His stomach twisted painfully as he moved towards her, unsure of what he would do next.

  She backed up. “We didn’t do it. I did not sleep with him.”

  He stopped.
“Do you expect me to believe that?”

  “Yes, I do. I expect you to trust my word.” She pulled the blanket tighter around her. “He never touched me. I swear to you, Stein, he did not touch me.”

  He gave the nearby stool a vicious kick. “That’s a little hard to believe. I found you naked, while he lay there with his cock hanging out.”

  “I know it looks bad, but I promise you, I swear to you, nothing happened. It was all a ruse so I could get close to him.”

  He advanced, stopping just in front of her. “For what purpose?” he roared. “Why were you naked?”

  “Magnus has something I want. An object which means a great deal to me.”

  She was a common thief? No, it was not possible. “I see. The only way to get it was to let him fuck you.”

  She stomped her foot. “No, Stein. He did not. How many times do I have to say it? I pretended to want him only to gain access to the...item.”

  His blood felt like liquid fire, burning his insides to cinders and blackening his heart. How dare she lie to him? How dare she choose his father over him? And for a mere bauble? It was outrageous.

  His body trembled with fury. How could he have been so wrong about her? How could he have been so blind?

  It was more than he could stomach.

  With a violent jerk, he ripped the blanket from her body and threw it on the floor.

  “Stein, what are you doing?” Esme's eyes were as big as moons as she threw up her arms to cover her face. "Don't hit me, please!"

  Crazed and confused, blinded by his rage, his emotions spiraled out of control. Yanking her into his arms, he wrapped a hand around her slender throat.

  She struggled against him, trying in vain to loosen his fingers. Weak as a newborn, she was helpless as he tightened his grip, stifling her pathetic mewling.

  His eyes watered as he stared into her green depths. She could have been his love, his wife, the mother of his children. They could have fled this nest of vipers and found their own place in the world. They could have...

  Her eyes shimmered, begging for life, begging him to believe her.

  His neck prickled as the oddest sensation came over him. A stinging burn crept over his shoulders, as if a thousand ants were devouring him. He froze, flooded by a strange and powerful realization.

  It was the truth, and it stared him right in the face.

  His hand flew from her throat to the back of her head and, with a strangled sound somewhere between agony and joy, he crushed her lips to his.

  He was out of his mind. Out of his mind for her.

  CHAPTER 15

  Esme crumpled against him in complete surrender. Her knees buckled, and her legs wobbled like gelatin as he branded her with his kiss. A kiss so hot it would have melted the elastic on her thong, if she still had it.

  Yes! He cared for her. He really did.

  As one, they sank to the floor. Cradling her in his strong arms, he whispered her name over and over. “Esme...Esme...”

  Tears stung her eyes. "Stein, my love..."

  Searching her face, he looked stunned, as if he’d just discovered a long-lost treasure and couldn’t believe his eyes.

  She gazed up at him in wonder. “I know. I feel it, too.”

  He kissed her forehead and her hair. “Forgive me, Esme. I could never hurt you.”

  “I know.” She cupped the back of his neck and brought her lips to his, but this time their kiss was tender and loving.

  “It’s just that...when I saw you with Magnus just now, I...”

  “I know.” She gently fingered his scar. “I would never betray you. You must believe me.”

  “I do. I saw the truth in your eyes.”

  She buried her face against the hollow of his neck and threw her arms around him. “I would rather die than hurt you.”

  He held her for a moment, then lifted her chin and stared into her eyes. “I was right about his desire for you.” His lips compressed into a tight line.

  “Yes, but nothing happened between us. I gave him enough of Gudrun’s painkiller to knock out a horse. He couldn’t have done anything, believe me.”

  Stein's shoulders relaxed, but his brow wrinkled in bewilderment. “What does Magnus have that interests you so? I did not think you were a thief, Esme.”

  This would be tricky. If she told him about the map, she'd have to explain who she really was and that she'd traveled back in time. No, she'd have to lie to him again. She'd eventually tell him the truth, but this was not the proper time.

  She nestled against him, snug in the fortress of his powerful body, and talked into his chest. “When I was with him earlier, he showed me some of the clan artifacts that were saved from the fire. He let me handle a beautiful gold brooch that belonged to a female ancestor.”

  “Yes, the brooch of Dagrún, my great-great-great-great grandmother.”

  Looking up at him, Esme put on her best ‘I-know-it-was-stupid, but-I-couldn’t-help-myself’ expression. “I thought I could take it to finance my escape, if I needed to.”

  Puzzlement changed to pain. “You wanted to leave me?”

  “No. I wanted it as insurance, in case I had to flee in a hurry.” She twisted his hair around her finger. “The brooch was for an emergency.”

  “In case something were to happen to me?”

  He believed her. “Yes.”

  "Where is it now?"

  "I didn't take it. It's still in the chest, as far as I know."

  "Good. We will find another way to insure your safety, should something happen to me. In the meantime, do not take anything from Magnus or Gudrun. It would be suicide."

  "Okay. I promise."

  He pulled her against him. “I’ve been wrestling with my feelings for you ever since Túnsberg. I’d promised myself that I’d never love another woman, so it’s been hard for me to admit I care for you, but...I do. Very much.”

  “It’s complicated, I know.” She squeezed him. “But, I’m not Margit. If I were your wife, I’d stick to you like Velcro.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Vell-crow? Is that a type of bird peculiar to your mysterious homeland?”

  She laughed. “Don't worry about it. Just believe me when I say I wouldn’t stray an inch...if I were your wife...which of course I’m not. And I don’t mean to imply anything. Really.”

  Rambling on like a blithering idiot, she grew aware that Stein was gazing at her like a love-struck calf. Her insides turned instantly to mush.

  He kissed her softly on the tip of her nose. “Esme, will you stay with me?”

  The heat of his body transferred to hers, warming her like a cozy blanket.

  “Yes, I want to.”

  A hollow feeling ballooned in her gut. Could she stay if she wanted to? Or would fate whisk her home to Minnesota without giving her a choice, or a moment's notice?

  He helped her stand and scooped her into his arms. “Let me make love to you, Esme.”

  “Oh, yes,” she gushed, clinging to him.

  He winced as she accidentally disturbed his wounds.

  “Gosh, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said as he carried her to his bed. He laughed as he gently set her down among the rumpled linens and fur coverlet. “How convenient that you’re already naked.”

  “Yes, isn’t it?” She pointed to his bandages. “How can you make love with your injuries? It’ll be too painful.”

  “What’s a little pain to me?”

  She sniggered. “Okay, Mr. Big Shot Viking. I’ll remind you of that later when I claw your back in sexual frenzy.”

  “I can only hope,” he teased.

  He shucked off his leggings, and she marveled again that any man could be so beautifully sculpted. Her man. Her lover. The one person in the universe who could make her happy.

  The one she might have to leave behind.

  He positioned himself over her, his massive arms and legs imprisoning her in a cage of living flesh. She would treasure every moment now. Commit each t
ouch, each kiss to memory so she could summon them later to comfort her in the dark and lonely Minnesota nights that may lie ahead.

  He stared down at her, his eyes conveying the unmistakable, age-old message of male desire.

  “You’re quite a woman.”

  “You had a lot to do with it.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, but let’s talk later, okay?”

  “O-K. No more words, only this,” he murmured, lowering his lips to nibble her neck.

  “Yes. I’m so ready for you.”

  Indeed. She was on fire for him. Every muscle, fiber, and molecule of her body was primed and ready to be joined to his. She’d never wanted anything as much as she wanted to be Stein Magnuson’s woman.

  He kissed his way across her collar bone, down to her breasts.

  “I love your body,” he murmured, not taking his lips from her skin. “Hmmm...” he hummed as he suckled her, igniting a fuse that shot in a straight line from her nipples to her clit.

  “And I love what you’re doing to it. Don’t stop.”

  Moving his hand to her pussy, he explored her with his fingers, setting off a series of fireworks that exploded through her lower body. His touch heated her veins, boiled her blood, made her temperature soar. It was amazing.

  “I’m ready,” she whispered. The sweet tension between her thighs, a feeling she’d come to adore, escalated quickly. Desire and arousal, like hot lava, bubbled inside her, ready to erupt.

  He thrust two fingers inside and stroked her walls while his thumb played with her swollen clitoris. She squirmed involuntarily as pre-orgasmic tremors coursed through her.

  “Touch me,” he whispered.

  Tenderly, she surrounded him with her fingers. He was so hard, so male. She moved her right hand gently up and down his length. His skin was softer than velvet, and his cock so warm and alive. He moaned softly and closed his eyes as she ran the thumb of her other hand over the flared head.

  “I want you to...” He placed his cock at her opening and pressed the head inside, barely penetrating her. “I want you to remember this moment always.”

  No problem! She was already half out of her mind, aroused beyond anything she could have imagined. Her entire pubic area was positively pulsing, and every inch of her sex ached with excruciating sensitivity.