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“You are doing it again,” he said.
“Hmm?” Cathy’s eyes darted away. Her cheeks burned as though he had just caught her red-handed.
“Staring at me. Stop it.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Her mouth dried.
It was the first thing he’d said to her since they’d left the beach, and she wanted to make peace with him. She needed to know he would forgive her. She stood, moved next to him, and sat down by his side.
He frowned. “What are you doing?”
“I just thought we could talk.”
“Talk?”
“Yes. Tell me about yourself.”
He rolled his eyes and continued staring at the fire. “Leave me alone.”
Ouch. “What can I do to make it okay? So that you forgive me?”
“Disappear,” he mumbled.
The words slashed. Even in the Middle Ages she was rejected. “Well, I can’t, okay? I have to get back to Brad.” Her eyes burned. “As soon as I meet that witch in York, consider me gone.”
“At least you have someone to go back to.”
“Chances of that are diminishing daily.”
He hemmed.
Cathy glanced at him. She’d try again. “So, where do you live? In a castle or something?”
He frowned as if he’d just smelled something bad. “A castle? Of course not. I am no Saxon.”
“Right. Then where?”
He sighed. “No more questions, Cathy.”
She nodded slowly and pursed her lips, thinking. But she was really curious. And she couldn’t stand the silence. Then she remembered. “Wait, if you’re a Viking, you live in a wooden house, right?”
“I do not.”
“Where, then?”
“Nowhere. Stop the questioning.”
“Sorry. I’m just curious how things work in this century. Do you have a farm? Or are you some sort of a king? Oh, no, I know—a mercenary?”
Then things got out of control.
He spun to her in a split second, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to him.
“Enough with your questions,” he said in her face. “I swear to Odin, I have never met any woman so…so…”
The touch of his hand, though strong, sent a wave of warmth through her. Inside her veins, fire seethed as his scent reached her—leather and iron and something earthy, something that turned her skin into a gathering of hot, waiting, needing nerve endings. As though he felt the same, the anger in his eyes began turning into something else.
His mouth came closer; there was nothing more she wanted more than to kiss him.
