“Put me down!” she demanded, pounding on his back with both fists. She was speaking Norse. Norse? How did she know Norse? She knew a bit of ancient Egyptian, but...
He patted her bare bottom. “Watch the kidneys,” he said under his breath.
“Eirick, you’ve got yourself a feisty one there,” one of the Vikings called to Reece.
Eirick?
“Aye, but a comely wench,” Reece said in perfect Norse.
“I said put me down!” Lara demanded, flailing her legs wildly. She still spoke Norse, but wasn’t sure how it was possible.
“You don’t have to overdo the acting, sweetheart,” Reece said quietly in English, emitting a pained gasp when her toe connected with God-knows-what.
“Who’s acting?” she cried. “Put me down, right now!”
“If she’s a too much for yeh, I’ll calm her right down,” one of the Vikings said, he grabbed a hand full of Lara’s hair and forced her head back so he could look at her. “She is a comely wench.” The pins holding Lara’s deep brown hair in its neat bun came loose and masses of turbulent curls fell free, surrounding her face and partially blocking her vision.
“This wench is my prize. I’ll enjoy taming this one,” Reece claimed to his Viking compatriots, patting her bare rump again.
“Let go of my hair!” she demanded of the crude Viking.
Her eyes widened when he lifted his fist to strike her. Reece caught the man’s wrist. “Don’t damage her looks.”
“She has it coming. This one needs to learn a bit of respect.”
“I need something to make my blood hot on cold nights. Her temper will do me good. She’s too scrawny to offer much warmth in my bed. Look at these scrawny thighs.” A hand ran up Lara’s thigh and she squirmed. “Not enough meat on them to keep my hips warm when she’s got those skinny things locked around my back.”
This drew much appreciative laughter from the other Vikings. Lara’s face flamed. An elbow to Reece’s back alerted him to her dissatisfaction with his boasts.
“Screw you,” she said between clenched teeth.
“That can be arranged,” he told her, his free hand sliding down the back of her naked thigh now. Since her view was of the boots of various Vikings surrounding them, she could only imagine the devilish grin gracing Reece’s handsome features at the moment. “Now, be good.”
“Me?” she sputtered. “You’re the one—”
“Saving you from a brutal, gang rape,” he whispered.
He was probably right. For now, she would cooperate, but when she got him alone, she would be sure to voice her protests. And viciously.
“I’d better get some clothing on this wench. Wouldn’t want anything important to freeze off,” Reece claimed. He turned and stalked off towards the nearest home that was not burning. “Men, load the loot and ready the long boat. We’ll set sail for home before midday.”
There was a loud call of agreement among the men and the sounds of them going about their duties.
“So you are their leader?” Lara questioned, trying not to concentrate on the repetitive stroking of Reece’s hand up and down the back of her thigh. She was too angry to be turned on. Much too angry. Plus his shoulder was cutting into her ribcage. She was much too uncomfortable and cold for the flesh between her thighs to be swelling. Growing damp. Achy. This was not the time to be imagining him naked in her arms, thrusting steadily into her eager body. It was a totally inappropriate time to find herself ignited into a blazing lust by the gentle touch of his hand.
“Yes, I’m their leader.”
“How can you tell? Do you have the thoughts of this guy you are posing as?”
“No, I’m the only one with horns on my helmet.”
“Ah,” she agreed. “Makes sense.”
Reece unnecessarily kicked open the door of a small, wooden house and stomped into the structure. “If there is anyone in here, they’d better run away now,” he growled.
There was a slight movement to the right. A large, orange cat hissed loudly and then raced out of the house. Nothing else stirred. Reece glanced around the one room hut and then closed the door before gently setting Lara on her feet.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“No, I’m not okay!” she sputtered. “What in the hell is going on? How are we here among Vikings? Is this real? Are we stuck here forever? And where did you get that amulet? Is that how we got here? Are we in the past? Is this a dream? How can I speak Norse? I don’t know Norse. Do you know Norse?”
He placed two fingers on her lips. “One question at a time,” he said. He scowled. “Even your lips are cold. You must be freezing.”
Actually, she was rather cold.
He cupped her cheek and gazed down at her. Her heart thudded hard against her ribs. That blazing lust thing was warming certain parts of her body quite well actually.
“Let me warm those up for you.”
He lowered his head and brushed his warm lips against her chilled ones. For her, this was their first kiss, but he obviously knew her well. He showed no hesitation at all as his suckled her upper lip and brushed her lower with the tip of his tongue. He drew her against him, his hands sliding down her naked back. Her excitement-and/or-cold-hardened nipples pressed into his hard chest. Wait a minute. She didn’t even know this guy. And she was rubbing her naked breasts all over him. And opening her mouth so he could tease her tongue with his. And relaxing her stance so he could slip his thigh between her legs. And why exactly did it feel so right to lose herself in his arms? In his kiss? Whatever caused his insanity was obviously infectious.
She turned her head, separating their mouths. Damn her sensibility anyway.
He ran his thumb over her lips. “Warmer now?”
Warm? She was on fire. She nodded slightly.
“Good. We’ll pick this up later. Somewhere a little less pillage and burn.”
She should have protested that “pick this up later” comment. Should have, but didn’t. She was thinking he could press her up against the wall and have his way with her and she’d be perfectly okay with that. She touched her flaming cheeks with cool fingertips. Easy girl. No matter how hot Reece was or who he claimed to be, she didn’t go having sex with some guy she met half an hour ago. At least, she shouldn’t.
“I love you,” he murmured.
He loved her? Oh no, no, no, no, no, no.
“Sorry. You’re probably not ready to hear that yet,” he said quietly.
She stared up at him, feeling a bit woozy and light-headed. “Are we really engaged in the future?”
He smiled gently. “Yeah. We need to get some clothes on that gorgeous body of yours, so I can better control myself.” He turned and glanced around the modest hut. He approached a collection of clothes hanging from hooks on the wall, selected a garment, and tossed it to her. She caught it, sniffed it, and made a face.
“It doesn’t smell very clean.” Understatement. It smelled like cat piss.
He grinned at her. “Well, next dry cleaners we happen upon, we’ll stop and have it cleaned for you.”
She huffed. “Thanks. That would be appreciated.”
She struggled into the garment, pulling it on over her head and writhing about like a big snake in a small sock, until the dress slid into place. It was at least three sizes too small. She suspected it was a child’s dress. It sure wasn’t designed for a woman with curves.
“And you said I was scrawny,” she said, glancing down at the bodice of the gown. She adjusted her breasts into a more comfortable position and they threatened to spill out of the top.
“You’re beautiful.”
She glanced up from the constrictive, smelly dress and her breath caught. The smoldering look transfixed to Reece’s handsome face made her weak in the knees. She licked her lips self-consciously and ran her hands over her temperamental hair.
“You do look a tad uncomfortable though,” he said, eyes trained on the sleeves of the dress cutting into her upper arms. The sleeves were so
tight, she couldn’t even lower her arms completely. He chuckled. “We’ll see if there is something else you can wear. It looked like it would fit.”
She wasn’t sure if she should take that as a compliment or an insult.
Reece turned back to the hooks of clothes and she lowered her eyes to her feet. They were so cold she couldn’t feel them, yet she was wishing Reece was still looking at her instead of finding her something to wear.
“There’s this,” he said. “It’s sure to keep my desire at bay.”
He held up a huge shirt, obviously intended for a man—a mountain of a man. She was certain it wouldn’t be flattering, but in front of those Vikings, the last thing she wanted to do was show off her assets. She’d already unwillingly showed off her ass.