Page 28 of The Last Viking

“I knew that,” he lied and walked bravely off into the shipping mall. Jealousy! For the first time in my life, I have exhibited that lackwit emotion. My brothers would laugh their bloody heads off. My father would say ’twas past time I suffered like all men. My mother would be arranging a wedding. I am doomed. The next being—man or beast—that laughed at him was going to feel the bite of his sword. Once he bought a sword, that was.

The closest he came to a sword, however, was something called a laser pointer. It would have to do, for now.

Two hours later, they sat at a table in the food court. Bags of clothing and other purchases were stacked at their feet.

Meredith hadn’t had so much fun in years.

“Now this is food fit for the gods,” Rolf declared enthusiastically as he finished off his sixth slice of sausage and mushroom pizza. “But what is this fondness your people have for bodily raiment? I’ve had my fill of trying on garments and shoes for one day.”

She nodded. Actually, they’d bought more than enough to last Rolf for now. Two pairs of jeans and a half dozen T-shirts, underwear—he preferred boxers—and socks, and a pair of work boots…a whopping size fourteen.

Rolf had shown a surprising fashion instinct, selecting a pair of pleated, Ralph Lauren khaki slacks and two Polo shirts, along with a pair of sinfully expensive loafers of the softest leather.

“This shopping is more tiring than a day of battle exercises,” Rolf grumbled, pushing away from the table and giving her his full regard.

Meredith didn’t like it when he studied her like that. It made her very uncomfortable. And he knew it. She could tell by the way he grinned, slowly and lazily. “I agree…about shopping being exhausting,” she said, picking at imaginary lint on her jeans. “And we still have to stop at the supermarket. The way you eat, I’ll need to stock up on lots more food.”

“Do you say that I eat overmuch? That I am fat?” He threw back his shoulders with affront, which only accentuated his superb body.

“Hardly.” He wore the plain old gray T-shirt and black sweats she’d given him that morning, along with the talisman belt, but if he got any more attention from ogling girls and oversexed women in this mall, she was going to scream. And Rolf didn’t even seem to notice the pivoting heads as he strolled along because he was doing his own gaping at each of the new wonders he encountered; water fountains, ballpoint pens, aquariums. Besides, he was probably used to female adulation, looking as he did.

As they headed back toward the mall entrance, weighed down with bags, Rolf stopped suddenly.

Now what?

“Give me fifty dollars, Merry-Death, and mark it in my book.” Rolf had made her purchase a small notebook to keep track of all his expenses. His male pride again.

“Why? I thought we got everything.”

“Not quite,” he said and veered off to the right after she handed him the bills.

“Oh, no,” she groaned, realizing that he was entering Victoria’s Secret.

“Rolf,” she hissed, finally catching up, her bags banging against her legs, “what are you doing in here?”

“All day we have been shopping for me, but naught for you. I want to buy you a gift.” He held up a flame-red, see-through nightie. “What do you think?”

Her face heated, turning a matching flame red, no doubt. “I don’t wear things like that to bed. I prefer…nightshirts.”

“I know,” he said dolefully.

“You know?” she squeaked out.

He shot her a glower of consternation. “I was tired last night, not dead.”

Oh, geez, what else did he see? Or remember?

He put the hooker-style outfit back on the rack, and said idly, “In truth, I prefer you wear no bed garments at all.”

As her heart started racing, he forged ahead into the store.

“These would show off those wonderfully long legs of yours.” He stuck a pair of French-cut silk panties in her face. “What are they?”

“Underwear. Rolf, please,” she whispered, mortified at all the attention they were getting. And, oh, Lord, was that one of her students over there—no, two of her students, Amy Zapalski and Joleen Frank?

He riffled through the assorted colors till he’d found a flesh-tinted pair edged with white lace, held it out before her as if to judge the size, and then tucked it under his arm. “Just right,” he said with a wink.

Next, before she could grab his arm and drag him out the door, he said, “Aaaah,” and hightailed it to the teddy section.