Page 12 of The Last Viking

Nervously, she slurped one strand of spaghetti into her mouth. Not wanting to back down from the challenge in his sparkling eyes, she smacked her lips with satisfaction.

“Bloody hell! You could bring a corpse’s poker to life with such a lewd gesture.”

“Huh?”

He winked.

And it was as if a tingly caress rippled over her entire body. She was in big, big trouble with this guy.

“I will try one of your worms,” he declared. Instead of waiting for her to get another plate and silverware, he reached across the table and picked up one strand. Arching his neck, he held it above his parted lips, like a sword swallower, then slowly sucked it into his mouth and down his throat. Holding her eyes the entire time, he licked his lips, then his thumb and forefinger.

It was the most sensual thing Meredith had ever seen a man do in her entire life. Like foreplay, but better.

“Did you like it?” she choked out.

“Immensely.”

Was there a double meaning in his terse reply?

“Do you want to know what I would like even better?” he asked.

“No!” she said quickly and jumped up to get him his own place setting.

The brute just laughed knowingly behind her.

A half hour later, Rolf gave up trying to eat the spaghetti with a fork. He had tomato sauce splattered on his white T-shirt. Strands of pasta he’d tried to twirl on his fork had landed on the tablecloth or the floor. And Meredith was laughing so hard she had tears streaming down her face.

Pushing the plate aside, he growled, “I think this is a dish some woman invented to bedevil her man.” Using a napkin, he wiped his face to make sure no sauce remained, then threw it to the floor, and stood. “Why do you try to punish me, Merry-Death? Because we did not complete the game you started earlier?”

“What game?” She stood as well and started to back away into the living room.

“You know. In your shower.” He drew the stained T-shirt over his head and tossed it aside, then stepped toward her, a predatory, determined look in his eyes.

Meredith’s traitorous eyes froze on his lightly furred chest and splendidly ridged abdomen. He’d put the wide belt with the ornate clasp on, and it called attention to his narrow waist and slim hips.

Uh-oh, here come the hormones again.

“Why did you run from my embrace, my lady?” His voice was a husky, sinful insinuation.

My lady? Feeling far from ladylike at the smoky, silent invitation in his eyes, she gulped. “Because the phone was ringing.”

Every time she took a step backward, he took one forward. He stalked her. But it didn’t feel threatening. It felt…exciting. Oh, my!

“And that was the only reason?”

She nodded.

“Why do you pull your hair back so severely, like a chaste nun? You have beautiful hair.”

“I do?” Meredith was behind the sofa. Rolf stood, poised to spring, on the other side by the fireplace, which had burned down to embers.

“You do. When it spilled out earlier, I pictured it spread down your back, over your bare breasts, on my bed furs.”

Her eyes widened at his outrageous words and her breasts peaked and began to ache.

He noticed immediately and a slow smile of appreciation spread across his lips. “Come,” he said, holding out a hand in invitation. “No more malingering games.”

Meredith was almost tempted. Almost. She shook her head. “I think you must have cast a spell over me with that…that talisman you keep talking about.”