Page 19 of My Fair Viking

"So, what I wanted to say was… hmmm… well… you see… I didn't come to your keep intending to harm you in any way. Nor did I plan to take you by… uh, force." Her face bloomed pink as she stuttered to get the words out… hard words for a prideful woman.

Is this your sorry excuse for an apology? Hah! You will have to do much better than that. Much!

"When you think on it, I am certain you will realize that you have not been treated so badly." She waved a hand dismissively as if anticipating his disagreement. "I know you resent the ropes, but other than that, you are a guest. Really."

Adam bit his tongue to keep from speaking his grievances aloud, but he couldn't keep his eyes from widening with indignation. Guest? Guest? Do you tie your guests like a harvest-fat hog? Do you toss your guests over your shoulder like a sack of barley? He scowled his fiercest scowl and made sure that his tongue was firmly in place, so tempted was he to reply.

"All right, I can see that the guest appellation does not go down smoothly… that it sticks in your craw…"

How about indigestible?

"… but what can I do to make things better? I mean, how can we start over?"

Is the woman lackwitted? Or deliberately obtuse? She knows exactly what she must do. Adam craned his neck to look pointedly over his shoulder at his hands tied behind his back and around the tent pole. Then he gave an equally pointed glance at his restrained ankles.

She got the message.

Her shoulders sagged. Then she seemed to come to a decision and braced both palms on her thighs and leaned forward to address him… which was a big mistake. A huge mistake!

For the first time, he noticed her attire. She must have bathed sometime after the evening meal because her hair, in long braids, was still damp. Her face was shiny clean, and clear as new cream, except for the dotting of a few freckles on her nose. Instead of chain mail, she now wore a hip-length, faded blue linen shert over her usual tight wool braies and half-boots. The shert was belted at the waist.

She was a big woman, Adam observed, not for the first time. Her height was immense for a woman, due to her exceedingly long legs. Her hips were ample, as were her breasts, though both were offset by a comparatively narrow waist.

Oddly, her bigness was not unattractive. On the contrary. Overall, she was well proportioned so that all her bigness just contributed to a picture of woman in all her glory. She was almost more than a man could take in.

He forced his eyes to move higher, and the picture was the same. Her lips were full. Her teeth were big. Her eyes were wide, thick-lashed, and crystal clear as blue lagoons. Even her blond hair would be big when loose, he would imagine.

And he was imagining.

But that wasn't what had caused his chin to drop to his chest. It was her posture, leaning forward on muscled thighs, which resulted in her shert gaping open at the laced vee-neckline, giving him an enticing view of an ocean of skin and the top swells of two very curvaceous breasts.

Adam had a weakness for curvaceous breasts. Well, actually, he had a fondness for all kinds of breasts— small, big, round, pointed, flat, whatever. Leastways, he had in the old days when he'd jumped from one lady's bedchamber to another like a randy rabbit.

"So, what do you think?" Tyra said.

Huh? He hadn't realized that she'd been talking all this time.

He arched a brow in question. He hoped he appeared more mature than he felt. Thinking about breasts! Bythe rood! I'm behaving worse than an untried youthling.

"Did you hear one word I said? Stop looking at me like that."

He shrugged to indicate confusion, but he knew exactly how he'd been looking at her. The shrug just covered all grounds. To his mind, shrugging was a man's best tool.

"Some men feel they must pretend to flatter me, just because I am a woman. Well, forget about that. I am a soldier first and foremost, and I know better than most how unattractive I am to men. Frankly speaking, I am stronger and larger in size than many men… not Norsemen, who are better endowed than normal men, but other males. Like Saxons. So save your ogling eyes and drooling lips for mush-headed maids who would appreciate the effort."

Is the woman daft? Unattractive? If I were any more attracted, my male parts would set themselves afire. And I am very well endowed, thank you very much, even if I am only Viking by adoption, not birth. Furthermore, I most certainly did not drool. He licked his lips all around, just to make sure.

"Back to what I was saying afore—what would you say to a truce?"

He might be interested. Truth to tell, he was bored to death with sitting about, rope-bound, all the time. He tilted his head to indicate she should continue.

"I would set you free… under guard, of course… or two guards." She added that last after giving his body a quick head-to-toe scrutiny.

Aha! She is probably noticing my… endowments.

"I have no fear of your doing harm to me, or my men…"

Mayhap not.