Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 01] (31 page)

Ruby thought the servant would have a heart attack when Thork asked him what the chances were of having a bath.

“On the third floor?” the old man choked out. But he quickly overcame his exhaustion when Thork offered him a coin which would be matched by another if he brought the tub and water in record time.

“Master, ’twill be here afore you have your clothes off,” he promised, adding solicitously, “Wouldst ya be wantin’ perfumed soap fer yer lady?” He flashed Thork a lascivious, toothless grin.

Oh, great! A conspiracy of like minds
.

“We have to talk while that servant is gone,” Ruby asserted quickly, while Thork rummaged through the large leather bag that held their belongings. So studiously was he searching for something and ignoring her words that finally Ruby asked. “
What
are you looking for?”

“This!” Thork held up her homemade teddy-bustier and grinned. “After you bathe, I want you to put this on. I have
dreamed the picture for days,” he explained huskily.

“No!” Ruby exclaimed, despite the wild hammering of her heart.

“Oh? Methinks you will.” His blue eyes, warm with promise, locked with hers.

“I want to talk,” Ruby groaned.

“I want to make love,” Thork argued.

His words moved Ruby, despite all her good intentions. The glaze of passion in his misty eyes compelled Ruby to surrender, but still she started to turn away, trying desperately to resist. “Why are you doing this?” she moaned.

“Are you serious?” He looked meaningfully down to his already burgeoning arousal.

Ruby closed her eyes for a moment, hoping to regain some semblance of control, then admonished, “Don’t be crude. I meant, why now? When I tried to seduce you, you thought our making love would be a bad idea. It
is
a bad idea. I realize that now. Think about it.”

A slight grin tugged at the corners of Thork’s lips as he listened, disbelieving, to her words. “Sweetling, that is
all
I can think about.” He laid the teddy on the embroidered bed cover and removed his sword and belt and tunic. He sat down to take off his soft leather shoes.

Panicked, Ruby realized she didn’t have much time to convince him. With a shaky voice, she urged, “Thork, let me tell you why we are
not
going to make love.”

Thork’s lips twitched infuriatingly. “I am listening.”

Hah!
His mind was about as open to her arguments right now as a teenager with a bad case of raging hormones. And she wasn’t doing so great herself.

Still, she had to try. But, before she could speak, he walked barefooted to her where she still stood frozen by the door. He gave her a quick, light kiss on the lips and said huskily, “You are beautiful.”

“I am not. You’re beautiful. I’m attractive, at best.”

“You think I am beautiful?” He seemed inordinately
pleased at that idea. “Can you imagine the beautiful children we might have made together?” he asked wistfully, then shook his head as if it were a wasted thought. “Not that I want any more children or ever intend to have more, but ’tis a tantalizing idea, is it not?”

“Oh, Thork, even your words prove why this can’t work.”

“How so?” he said, cocking his head quizzically. Meanwhile, he peeled off his slim black pants and stood before her immodestly in only a codpiece that resembled a modern-day jock strap.

Ruby groaned.

The candlelight flickered on the smooth planes and battle scars of his bronzed skin, highlighting the golden strands in his hair, making his eyes appear a darker shade of blue. When he leaned to pick up his clothing and jewelry and place them in a neat pile in the corner, corded muscles in his back and buttocks rippled with his graceful movements.

He looks like a damn golden god, for heaven’s sake!

The servant brought in the tub, followed by four other men carrying two buckets of hot water each. He left with the other coin in his pocket and a big smile on his face, telling Thork to push the tub outside to the hall when he finished.

“Do you want to go first?” Thork asked after he filled the large oval tub, similar in size to a Colonial copper wash boiler. When Ruby shook her head, he dropped his last garment and lowered himself into the steaming water with a shudder and then a sigh. It barely held Thork’s massive frame. He had to draw up his knees to fit.

Ruby swallowed hard and tried to continue her explanation of why they couldn’t do that which she wanted to do so damn bad her teeth ached. While Thork soaped his body and washed his hair, Ruby chattered uneasily. “In the beginning, there were two main reasons why I pursued
you, Thork. I was concerned about my safety here in a strange land, and I wanted us to be together to provide a home for Eirik and Tykir.”

“And?”

“Well, I’m safe now, at least until we get to Normandy.”

“And the boys?”

“Tykir lives with your family now and won’t be as lonely as he was in Jorvik, and Eirik, well, the fostering isn’t an ideal situation, but he’s where he wants to be. I’m sure he and Haakon will be good for each other. What I’m saying is that, if I suddenly had to…go away, I wouldn’t worry about them. Well, not too much, anyway.”

“Go away?” Thork snapped. “Do you still harbor plans to escape?” He stood abruptly in the tub and water sloshed over the sides. Reaching for a towel, he dried himself briskly while he glared at her, awaiting an answer.

Ruby chose her words carefully. “It’s not something I’m planning deliberately, but I could be returned to my home suddenly. I wouldn’t have a choice. That’s why I didn’t want to leave loose ends with the children, who are just like my own boys—”

“Nay, do not start that future-life nonsense again. You are an untried virgin. You have no husband, and you most definitely have never borne any children.”

Ruby tried not to look at Thork’s nude body as she continued, “Still…if I suddenly, mysteriously, have to leave, that’s another reason why our making love would be a mistake. You have to know I love you. I have for twenty years. You love me, too. You just don’t know it yet, but—”

“You love me?” Thork asked, choosing selectively which of her words to hear. He moved toward her with open arms and a wide smile.

She ducked under his arms and moved to the other side of the room. “—I also know how much it hurt when
you…when Jack left, and I wouldn’t put you through that pain. Thork.”

Thork threw the wet towel down and looked at her with growing impatience. “We will part eventually, anyway, either at Normandy or at Jomsborg, if I decide to take you there. So, what does it matter if we make love?”

“Jomsborg?” Ruby’s forehead furrowed. What did he mean?

Thork hesitated, obviously not wanting to get into this particular discussion right now. “It is of no import now. Just a thought I had.” He picked up an ivory comb and pulled it through his wet hair absently. “If you decide not to stay in Normandy and if you please me in bed, mayhap I would consider taking you to Jomsborg with me.”

Please him in bed!
Little alarm bells went off in Ruby’s head. Ruby looked at him suspiciously. “As your wife?”

“
Nay!
” Thork exclaimed, then tried to soften his tone. “Why do you persist in this talk of weddings?”

“Then what?” An icy chill ran up her spine.

“Selik warned me that you would react thus,” Thork muttered in disgust.

“Selik! You discussed this with Selik? Exactly what are we talking about here?”

“A bedmate, pure and simple,” Thork blurted out. He saw the outrage on her face and quickly added, “’Tis no disgrace in that, Ruby. I would treat you well, purchase you a home, fine clothing, jewelry, and you would be free to go when…when…” His words trailed off.

“When what?” she asked through anger-gritted teeth. “When you tire of me?”

The noncommittal expression on his face told her everything.

“You pond scum!” Ruby cried out miserably. “You egotistical, self-centered, male chauvinist pig!” Tears that she hadn’t realized were welling in her eyes streamed down her face. She turned jerkily and opened the door,
wanting to escape Thork’s presence.

He followed her into the hallway, completely naked, the towel around his waist having come loose. A drunken ealdorman asked with a slur, “Need any help, young man? I have a whip in my room if the maid be too much for you.”

Thork ignored him and pulled Ruby back into the room. “Take off your clothes and get in the tub,” he demanded angrily. “More than enough have I had with words. I have coddled you for weeks and put up with more foolery than any man should. Enough! Promises aplenty you have made, and my reckoning time is more than due.”

“No!” She pulled herself out of his grasp.

“Then I will do it for you.”

Ruby backed away from him, and he stalked her around the tub toward the other side of the room. The bed separated them but not for long. Thork leapt over it and pinned her against the wall with her arms above her head, his hips against her stomach.

Laughing, enjoying the lusty pursuit, he informed her, “You can take the dress off yourself, or I will rip it off in shreds.” When she stubbornly refused, he transferred both her wrists to his right hand and placed his left hand in the neckline of the silk dress. With one swift movement, he tore it from neck to hem. Then he did the same with the underchemise.

Spreading both garments apart, he feasted his eyes on her small, firm breasts which strained the thin fabric of her black lace bra, then on the triangle of her femininity which hid behind her black silk panties. Easing the straps off both shoulders of her struggling body, he picked her up and threw her facedown on the bed, almost smothering her in the deep coverlet. He cursed as he struggled to unsnap her bra in back, finally succeeding. Then he flipped her over roughly and slipped off her panties and leather shoes.

Sitting on her waist, holding her hands pinioned above her head on the bed, he inquired smoothly, “Now will you take a bath, or must I wash every inch of your body for you?”

The tears streaming down her face didn’t move him at all. Ruby nodded her acquiescence.

Thork dumped four bucketfuls of bath water out of the glassless window, uncaring of who might be walking below, and added four clean buckets to the tub. Allowing her no modesty whatsoever, Thork watched her with smoldering eyes as she walked sullenly to the tub and slid into it up to her neck.

“Make haste. I will not wait all night,” Thork warned in a low, primitive voice.

Ruby pursed her mouth sulkily but did as he asked.

Sitting in a chair which he pulled closer to the tub, Thork sat watching her languidly, heavy-lidded, like a large cat anticipating a tasty meal. His naked body stretched out immodestly.

“Your hair grows longer,” he commented. “How long would it take to reach your shoulder blades?”

Ruby shrugged. “A year.” Then she added snidely, “Do you think you will have tired of me by then?”

Thork smiled, refusing to rise to her bait. “Mayhap.”

When she was done, Ruby asked for a towel. Thork brought one over, but before he gave it to her, he pulled her to a standing position, then soaped a washcloth lying at the edge of the tub. The tub water reached only as far as her knees.

Ruby gazed at him questioningly, her face flaming with embarrassment to be standing exposed before him.

“You did not wash there,” he said hoarsely, pointing to the vee at her thighs. “Move your legs apart and do it whilst I watch. Slowly.”

“No,” Ruby choked out and tried to get out of the tub.

“Yea,” he demanded softly and forced her to stand in
place. He spread her upper thighs several inches apart, then handed her the soapy cloth with an implacable expression on his face. “Do it, sweetling.”

She did. And would have died of mortification if she hadn’t soon realized that her actions had cracked the composure of Thork’s self-control. A pulse-beat in his straining neck told her how hard he tried to appear unaffected by her actions. His shaft attested to his rock-hard readiness.

“Now can I dry off?” she rasped out finally.

“Nay. Stay where you are.”

Thork took a bucket and emptied the tub’s water out the window until Ruby stood in water barely up to her ankles. What was he up to now?

Ruby got her answer soon enough as Thork knelt before the tub and gripped her ankles in his hands, then moved them two feet apart. He lathered her legs from her ankles to the top of her thighs. Then he smiled wickedly at her, took a sharp knife in his hands and began to shave her legs.

“Do not look at me so, sweetling. This was your idea, not mine,” he growled, “but I must admit I have been picturing the shaving in my dreams for weeks.” When she did not speak, Thork chuckled softly and went on, “Sometimes I shaved you as you lay, arms and creamed legs widespread, on that flat boulder by Dar’s pond. Then, too, I visualized you lying on the masthead of my ship with each lathered thigh on a rail of the prow opening. My favorite, though, was me sitting naked on a chair and you likewise nude, but astraddle the arms of the chair, with my hardened staff just barely touching the dew of your woman’s opening, and then I soaped you…”

Ruby was speechless under the onslaught of his softly spoken fantasies. Her blood felt thick. Her skin, all over, seemed to expand.

Thork rambled on seductively with his sexual images
as he slowly, methodically, shaved her legs with all the concentration of a veteran barber. If occasionally the hair of his bent head brushed the nipples of her breasts or her pubic hair, Ruby couldn’t tell whether it was deliberate or not. All she knew was that his actions had ignited a fire in her which seared her skin and centered in a tiny pleasure point of her body which seemed to swell and ache for touch. Ruby bit her lip to keep from moaning.

“Why do you tremble, sweetling?” Thork asked with smug delight as he wielded his razor-sharp blade on the inside of her upper thigh. “Do you not trust me to be careful?”

Ruby said nothing, unable to utter a word. Suddenly the fingertips of one hand which had been encircling her thigh to hold it steady inadvertently touched her feminine inner folds.