Page 33 of Viking Unchained

He needed to disconcert the woman, who was clearly alarmed at his inquiring about his son. Soon she would be kicking him out the door . . . or trying to. “Did you plan to make me your sex slave?”

Her mouth dropped open, and she appeared to be speechless. “No. Of course not. What makes you say such a thing?”

Uh, dost really need to ask that question, oh, thick-headed one? “Mayhap because you lured me to your lair. Distracted me with numerous bouts of sex. Then chained me to your bed. You said you did it because I look like your dead husband, but methinks you were just looking for a sex slave.”

“You . . . you . . . you . . . ,” she sputtered.

“Not that I have e’er been a sex slave afore, nor had the need of one myself. But I have heard of such.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“So you say.” He shrugged. Then he stood, dropped the towel around his waist, and lay down on the bed. “Just so I am back by a week from next Frigg’s Day.” That was when he took his Navy SEAL test.

Not that he would tell her that. Best not to give the enemy too much information. “I’ll have to tell Torolf to cancel my tutoring lessons in the meantime.”

“Tutoring? For what?”

“My English is not so good.” That is an understatement.

“Why didn’t you put your clothes back on after you took a shower?”

He declined to tell her that he was getting perverse pleasure over her discomfort at his nudity. She looked everywhere except at his manparts. Which was amazing, considering everything she had done to said manparts the night before. “Take off your garments.”

“Whaaat? Why?”

“What kind of a sex slave would I be if I swived you fully clothed? I am a man. I like to see what I am doing. And what you are doing.”

“Stop talking about sex slaves. I never wanted a sex slave. Why do you use those ancient words?”

“Why do you avoid what I tell you to do?”

“Did you wear those fake gold armbands in the shower? Be careful or they’ll rust.”

Now she was being rude. He drew himself up straight. “These are pure gold. Gifts from my mother when I first went a-Viking and from King Olaf for a successful mission against the Saxons.”

“Ha, ha, ha. If those were real gold, they’d be worth a fortune.”

All these irrelevancies! He inhaled deeply for patience.

“Anyhow, we need to talk. So get dressed, please.”

Talk is the last thing I have in mind for your mouth. “I can talk without my clothes on, talented fellow that I am. And I tell you now, if you ask me again who I am, I may very well heave the contents of my empty stomach.”

“Oh. You’re still hungry?”

I thought you would never ask. “How brilliant of you to notice! What did you think that rumbling noise was?”

“You. Growling.”

He arched his eyebrows. “Sarcasm ill-suits you, m’lady.” And, yea, I will be soon growling if you do not hop onto the bed and prepare to be swived.

“Likewise, m’lord.”

Huh? Best I try a different tactic? “I want my son.”

“Too bad. Mike is away for two weeks—”

“Two sennights! If you think I will wait that long to see my son after all these years, you have an oar missing in your longboat.” Thorfinn had learned to make those types of word comparisons from Torolf, who was always saying someone was “two bricks short of a full load,” or “a loaf missing a slice or two.”