first mistake, wench, was opening the door for me.”
She used her free hand to wave dismissively. “Don’t come any closer, or you’ll scare Liv.”
“Liv is my sister,” he roared.
“Right now Liv is a rape victim who needs my help.”
“ Your help? You overstep your bounds, thrall.”
“Thrall shmall,” she chirped. “Do you want your sister to get better?”
He straightened his shoulders with affront. Was she hinting that he did not care about Liv? He would kill any person who said such, even a woman. “Of course I want Liv to get better.” He looked at Liv, who for the first time in such a long time met his gaze, but immediately she looked to the wench for help.
“I need your help,” Joy said.
He would like to pick up the wench, toss her over his shoulder, and either take her down to the fjord and feed her to the fishes or take her to his bed furs and swive her silly. But he restrained his baser urges, both kinds. “What help?”
“A maid or two to help clean Liv’s room. Frankly, it stinks. All that hay on the floor should be swept up, the floor scrubbed, and a carpet laid down, if you have one. The chamber pot should be emptied and cleaned. There are cobwebs in the corners a year old. The bed linens are so old and worn they’ll probably rot in the wash water. A tub—no, two tubs of hot water for bathing. And don’t forget the soap, washcloths, and towels. Also, bring clean clothing for me and Liv.”
“Is that all?” He folded his arms over his chest, his ankles crossed as he leaned against the opposite wall.
“For now, Igor,” she said, putting in that name just to annoy him and remind herself that he was the enemy, not a six foot four, dark-haired hunk of a Viking. The belted tunic and slim pants with cross-gartered half boots couldn’t hide a buff body that would put some SEALs to shame. Not that any of that mattered.
“You and I have a score to settle, wench ,” he said, emphasizing without words that if she continued to call him Igor, he would call her wench, “but I am willing to put my grievances aside for the moment if it will help Liv. Just know that you will not escape my punishment.”
There was a gleam in the brooding man’s eyes that told her what form that punishment might take. She didn’t need to peer downward to see that her nipples reacted to his promise, and not with fear. Brandr saw, too, and he nodded at her with satisfaction. “Methinks you need no fine garments. Those you wear are sufficient.”
Only then did it register that she wore only the bra and panties. “You would think so!”
“What manner of dress is that?”
“Underwear.”
“I cannot help but wonder about what is beneath.”
“You’ll never know.”
“You think not?” Then, without further word, he turned to the astounded crowd behind him, motioning for them to leave with him. Already he was barking out orders to fulfill Joy’s requests . . . uh, demands.
She took Liv back into the bedchamber.
And the most amazing thing happened. Liv grinned at her.
“You like the way I held my own with your brother?” Liv gave her a full-fledged smile, then nodded.
“I have a big brother, too. Two, in fact. I used to have three, but that’s another story. Bottom line: I know what big brothers are like.”
Liv patted her bottom.
Joy laughed, understanding completely. “Yep. They’re a pain in the ass.”
Chapter 7
He was becoming en-thrall-ed . . .
Brandr sat before the fire at a far fireplace, nursing a silver goblet filled with a fine red wine from the Franklands. His brothers had bought several barrels of the wine as a special treat.
He’d checked outdoors last time he used the garderobe, and the snow was already knee-high. ’Twas a blessing that his brothers had returned when they had. Not that a good longboat couldn’t travel in snow. Nay, it was the freeze that would close up the fjord in a short time. Still, there would be much work to do on the morn, and it
She used her free hand to wave dismissively. “Don’t come any closer, or you’ll scare Liv.”
“Liv is my sister,” he roared.
“Right now Liv is a rape victim who needs my help.”
“ Your help? You overstep your bounds, thrall.”
“Thrall shmall,” she chirped. “Do you want your sister to get better?”
He straightened his shoulders with affront. Was she hinting that he did not care about Liv? He would kill any person who said such, even a woman. “Of course I want Liv to get better.” He looked at Liv, who for the first time in such a long time met his gaze, but immediately she looked to the wench for help.
“I need your help,” Joy said.
He would like to pick up the wench, toss her over his shoulder, and either take her down to the fjord and feed her to the fishes or take her to his bed furs and swive her silly. But he restrained his baser urges, both kinds. “What help?”
“A maid or two to help clean Liv’s room. Frankly, it stinks. All that hay on the floor should be swept up, the floor scrubbed, and a carpet laid down, if you have one. The chamber pot should be emptied and cleaned. There are cobwebs in the corners a year old. The bed linens are so old and worn they’ll probably rot in the wash water. A tub—no, two tubs of hot water for bathing. And don’t forget the soap, washcloths, and towels. Also, bring clean clothing for me and Liv.”
“Is that all?” He folded his arms over his chest, his ankles crossed as he leaned against the opposite wall.
“For now, Igor,” she said, putting in that name just to annoy him and remind herself that he was the enemy, not a six foot four, dark-haired hunk of a Viking. The belted tunic and slim pants with cross-gartered half boots couldn’t hide a buff body that would put some SEALs to shame. Not that any of that mattered.
“You and I have a score to settle, wench ,” he said, emphasizing without words that if she continued to call him Igor, he would call her wench, “but I am willing to put my grievances aside for the moment if it will help Liv. Just know that you will not escape my punishment.”
There was a gleam in the brooding man’s eyes that told her what form that punishment might take. She didn’t need to peer downward to see that her nipples reacted to his promise, and not with fear. Brandr saw, too, and he nodded at her with satisfaction. “Methinks you need no fine garments. Those you wear are sufficient.”
Only then did it register that she wore only the bra and panties. “You would think so!”
“What manner of dress is that?”
“Underwear.”
“I cannot help but wonder about what is beneath.”
“You’ll never know.”
“You think not?” Then, without further word, he turned to the astounded crowd behind him, motioning for them to leave with him. Already he was barking out orders to fulfill Joy’s requests . . . uh, demands.
She took Liv back into the bedchamber.
And the most amazing thing happened. Liv grinned at her.
“You like the way I held my own with your brother?” Liv gave her a full-fledged smile, then nodded.
“I have a big brother, too. Two, in fact. I used to have three, but that’s another story. Bottom line: I know what big brothers are like.”
Liv patted her bottom.
Joy laughed, understanding completely. “Yep. They’re a pain in the ass.”
Chapter 7
He was becoming en-thrall-ed . . .
Brandr sat before the fire at a far fireplace, nursing a silver goblet filled with a fine red wine from the Franklands. His brothers had bought several barrels of the wine as a special treat.
He’d checked outdoors last time he used the garderobe, and the snow was already knee-high. ’Twas a blessing that his brothers had returned when they had. Not that a good longboat couldn’t travel in snow. Nay, it was the freeze that would close up the fjord in a short time. Still, there would be much work to do on the morn, and it
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