Secret Heir

“Really?” She cocked an amused eyebrow at me.

“Maybe.”

“Sex is safe. Even rough sex.”

I moved a little inside her, testing the waters. “But what if I could feel the baby move from inside you? On my . . .” I arched an eyebrow in question.

“Oh my God, you are so ridiculous. Are you going to make me get myself off?”

“Never, not while I'm around. I want every orgasm from this point on. Only I get you off. Consider it a new rule. It’s the most important one as far as I’m concerned.” I moved in and out of her again.

“Good. Now fuck me like you mean it you big, bad Viking.” She grinned. I couldn’t refuse those words.

“You want it hard and fast?” I hiked her thigh up around my waist, piston into her, and rolled my hips with deft strokes.

“Please, yes...” she moaned, “but watch the nipples.”

“Got it, easy on the nipples.” I pulled her legs up straight and over my shoulders and hit her to the very end, setting a punishing pace as I fucked her to the sound of her moans and pleas echoing around the small tent.

Everyone could hear us. Just like I wanted it.

I wanted everyone in the world to know Pixie was mine.

EPILOGUE

Pixie

“Romarik Willhelm Madsen the Third, Crown Prince of Denmark and Duke of North Jutland, do you take this bride to be your wife?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the turn of events.

Rome held my hand as I became a crowned Danish princess. Well, maybe only in formality. It didn’t mean anything to me, beyond that the secret heir I carried was now not so secret.

My future son or daughter, a Danish Royal.

Mom and dad would never have predicted this one. They’d thought my idea for study abroad was crazy, off chasing Vikings they’d laughed. But it’d been true, right down to the core. From the moment I’d stepped off the plane I’d felt like I’d found a new home.

And I had.

Maybe it was Granny’s matchmaking—she was officiating our fjord-side ceremony with a twinkle in her eye, just like she’d known we’d end up here from the beginning.

It’d only been a month since Rome had tracked me down in Rattigut. After a whirlwind public engagement, he’d ferried me off to his manor in the North for our very private ceremony. I was still spending most of my days doing fieldwork, and Rome had committed to moving as much of his duties to his manor house in the North as possible, and cutting out the rest. He hated public life and was only looking for a reason to limit his schedule.

He never left my side and celebrated even the most minor of Viking artifact finds with me.

Only Granny, her eldest daughter—The Queen, and all of Rome’s five brothers and two sisters attended. Rome had even flown my parents in a week ahead of time, and getting to know the new in-laws had been a treat.

Dad had at first been horrified that Rome was a full nine years older than me, but the age didn’t matter to us.

Even The Queen, upon our introduction, had commented on my age, telling me secretively that she’d been a young bride to a man she loved hopelessly that was much older than her. I’d asked Rome later about his parent’s love story, but he’d only shrugged, claiming their divorce had ended amicably on the day his father was sentenced to jail. And so the mystery deepened with my new royal in-laws.

“Vikings may not be the most romantic,” Granny interrupted my thoughts with her free-wheeling style, “but they are the most loyal. Romarik’s great-grandmother twelve times removed was the first woman of our clan. She was kidnapped and traded to her future husband to settle a dispute. They raised nine strong Viking offspring together—they were the most fertile couple of their clan.” Granny leaned in, firing her next words to me, “And as you know, all descendants of our clan are blessed with the same unbridled fertility. Love washes like a wave through generations. Good luck.”

Granny slammed her book closed, a triumphant smile on her face before she sprinkled flower petals into the air and announced, “You may now kiss the bride!”

Rome didn’t waste a minute. He scooped me in his arms and carried me down the aisle I'd only just walked up with my dad. Our family cheered but that didn’t stop, Rome. He just continued walking up the path from the small setup that overlooked the coastline, to the manor house steps.

“Thanks for coming everyone.” He tossed over his shoulder.

I swatted at him. “You can’t just leave them.”

“Watch me. It’s tradition that a Viking makes love to his wife minutes after tying her to him for life.”

“And Granny claimed Vikings aren’t romantic,” I teased.

Rome’s heavy palms cupped my ass cheeks as he climbed the stairs with me.