Page 58 of Hot & Heavy

"My pleasure." Once again, he muttered under his breath, this time saying, "Or pain."

He took her hand and showed her a bathing room, two large bedchambers, one of which held a bed big enough to hold a small army and the other a desk for doing business, and then to the kitchen, which garnered her greatest admiration.

Madrene had managed the affairs of a vast estate. She had been a warrior leading fierce fighting when Norstead was attacked. She had been a shrewd trader of goods in the marketplaces of Birka and Hedeby. But at heart she was a woman who could appreciate a good kitchen.

"Oooooh!" she said, putting both hands to her chest. "What a wonderful kitchen! I could live my entire life in this space alone and be happy."

"It's only a kitchen, for God's sake! Don't have a freakin' orgasm over it," Ian said.

"What's an orgy-asm?"

His tanned face flushed at her question, leading her to assume orgy-asm had something to do with sex.

That was the only thing she knew that could bring a blush to a man's face.

Before he could answer, she knelt down to the floor to touch the gold-marbled tiles. They were not stone, but some other material. Like the carpet in his solar, it was exceptionally clean.

Ian was leaning against the doorjamb, watching her with amusement.

She did not care if she appeared foolish. This kitchen was a marvel.

There were wood doors and drawers above and below what Ian told her was a countertop, which had real tiles of a lighter shade than the floor. Inside those compartments were dishes and pots and pans and cutlery and foodstuffs. "I know a few kings who would swoon at all this luxury."

"Know a few kings, do you?" Ian inquired lazily. Obviously, he thought she lied.

"I do, you doubting oaf. But that is not important. How do you maintain your keep so spotless?" While she talked, she was fiddling with some metal contraptions from which hot and cold water flowed into a metal basin. It was like the showering apparatus she'd used back in Baghdad.

"I have a cleaning lady come in every two weeks," he said. "And I'm away a lot."

"But you must do some work yourself in between."

He shrugged. "Coming from a military background, I tend to be neat."

"This is beyond neat," she observed. Now she stood before a large white object built in between the wooden compartments. "What is this?"

"You know, this game of yours is getting old. I could buy your being so sheltered that you didn't recognize an airplane or common female underwear, though those are a stretch, but a stove? No way!"

"A stove? This is a stove? What is its purpose?"

"Give me a break! It's for cooking, and you very well know that."

She frowned. "I thought… what do you do with the fireplace in your solar, then?"

"It's for building a log fire and sitting there on a winter evening."

"For warmth?"

"Holy shit, no! It's supposed to be cozy."

"A fire just to sit afore with no purpose? You jest."

"No, I don't."

"Show me," she demanded, pointing to the stove.

He exhaled with disgust, but he turned on a knob, put a pan of water on top of a round implement, and waited. Soon the water came to a boil.

"This is wonderful! No smoke. No mess."