A Viking Holiday: The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors' Kin

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A Viking Holiday: The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors' Kin Page 4

by Sky Purington


  Instead, she pulled on her Viking clothes. They would be warmer. Yet she remembered the way Sean had responded to seeing her in modern clothes. Heat flared beneath her skin at the memory. At the possessive aggression he had shown. She liked it immensely. But she didn’t like how upset he grew with himself afterward. He did not like violence born of jealousy. More than that, he didn’t like a woman who brought him to such action.

  So she would keep her Viking clothes on and not make him become someone he did not like.

  Eventually, hours later, the party ended, and all grew quiet.

  She pulled on her boots, wrapped the hooded fur cloak she had made for herself around her shoulders and snuck down the stairs. All was dark except for a low fire and the shimmering Christmas tree. Emily was curled up on one of the couches sound asleep. Or at least she thought so until she reached the deck door and heard a small whisper. “Are you looking for Santa?” Emily was peeking over the back of the couch, her eyes wide. “Because he went out the other door.”

  Svala put a finger to her lips as she crouched near Emily and whispered, “I was not looking for Santa. I am only going for a walk.”

  “Well, I think you should look for him while you’re out,” Emily whispered back.

  “Why?”

  Emily seemed surprised Svala had to ask. “Well, so you can ask him to get you Sean for Christmas.”

  “I do not celebrate Christmas,” Svala said.

  “But Santa does,” Emily explained. “And I’m sure if you tell him how much you want Sean, he will give him to you.”

  Svala couldn’t help but be impressed by the child’s logical assessment even though she knew such a thing was impossible. So she gave logic of her own. “I do not think Santa will give me Sean if I don’t believe in him first. My gods would not give me anything if I did not believe in them.”

  “Maybe not,” Emily agreed and yawned. “But Santa isn’t a god so it couldn’t hurt to ask him, right? Because Sean is lonely and deserves to be someone’s favorite Christmas present.”

  Svala’s brows perked. “But he has Julie, does he not?”

  Emily rolled her eyes. “His eyes are different with her than with you. Not as sparkly.”

  Svala almost snorted. Sean’s eyes were sparkly? She didn’t imagine he would enjoy that description. “What do you mean?”

  “They only stay one way when he’s with Julie. Kinda lifeless really,” Emily explained, yawning again. “But they’re all sorts of ways when he’s with you. They get all sparkly.”

  Svala didn’t have the heart to tell Emily that those sparkles were mostly made of anger and likely frustration. Rather she urged the child to lie back down and covered her with a blanket. “We’ll see. Maybe I will look for Santa while I’m on my walk after all.”

  “I think that’s a good idea.” Emily smiled, her eyes sleepy. “I bet he’s back at the North Pole by now, but you might be able to catch him.”

  Svala smiled and brushed Emily’s hair away from her forehead as she drifted off to sleep. She bent her head and whispered a prayer her mother used to say every night. Though it was typically said at a Viking birth, Megan had liked it and felt it lent Svala extra protection. “May great Thor protect you with his strong arm and mighty hammer. May the good Mother Holle hold and comfort you, and may all blessings be upon you, small and holy one.”

  After that, Svala slipped out the back door into the night and started through the woods. While she had steered clear of roads, she’d spent plenty of time navigating the forests along the coast since she arrived. She probably knew the land better than most people who had lived here their whole lives.

  So she knew exactly how to get back to the marina.

  More so, Sean’s boats.

  Crouching, she pulled a stick of liquid eyeliner from her pocket. Back home, she would use charcoal, but this would have to do. Her eyes remained on his ships as she started to etch small Nordic symbols from the corner of her inner eye, sweeping gently until they reached her upper, outer cheekbone. May they protect her as she ventured out on a new quest.

  May they protect her as she turned from home and sought out a new future…as she tried to make her way back to her mate.

  Chapter Five

  SEAN CHECKED THE National Weather Service Marine Forecast yet again as he poured a cup of coffee then shot one of his guys a thumbs up out the window of the helm. Due to the incoming storm, he’d decided to only take out two boats.

  “Hey, man, we’re ready when you are,” Frank said as he joined him and poured his own cup of coffee.

  Sean flinched at Frank’s shiner. “Hell, sorry again about that.”

  “Meh.” Frank waved it away. “I got one in on you too.”

  “Yeah, but you can’t see mine.” Sean pulled the boat away from the dock.

  “Women,” Frank muttered. “What happened to Svala, anyway? I’ve never seen a woman fight like that.” He snorted and sipped his coffee. “Or look that good while doin’ it.”

  Sean shook his head. As far as anyone knew, she was from modern day Norway. “She’s heading home this morning. Probably already gone.”

  Frank nodded. “Too bad.” He glanced at Sean. “But then I wasn’t gonna get any of that, was I?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why’d you let her go, then?”

  Sean frowned. “What’re you talking about?”

  “You just agreed I wasn’t gonna get any of that.”

  “Right, because she’s leaving.” Sean shook his head and tried to make more sense. “Besides, she doesn’t like American men.”

  That may or may not be total bullshit, but he had to cover for why he said, “Nope,” like that. Because he’d said it too fast and felt it a little too strongly.

  “Yeah, whatever you say, man.” Frank cast him an odd look before he ducked outside.

  Sean sighed and eyed the course charts again. The sun was hours from rising and the winds a little gusty. Though below freezing right now, the temperature was supposed to hit the low-forties. As expected, the water was choppy as they made their way out.

  Instead of enjoying the feel of the sea, all he could think about was Svala being gone by the time he returned. He should be grateful that Grant had come when he called. That his problems were finally over. Yet here he stood, mulling over whether or not he should have said goodbye.

  He didn’t like her.

  Not really.

  But what would it be like not having her around? The constant bantering. At least on her part. He polished off his coffee and shook his head. “It’ll be damn peaceful,” he said under his breath. And peaceful was good, wasn’t it?

  An hour or so went by before he let Frank take the wheel and made his way below deck. The nets had already been lowered, and the guys were having breakfast. Sean grabbed a doughnut, refilled his coffee and joined them for a bit before he headed back up.

  “Lights look good, Nick,” he said as he passed one of his men in the hallway.

  “Aye, Cap.” Nick grinned and winked. An old-timer fisherman, he’d moved down from Nova Scotia a few years back and was always the lighthearted one in the crew. He’d done a good if not sloppy job of hanging multi-colored Christmas lights along the bow.

  “Did you know we have a stowaway, then?” Nick asked, grinning.

  Sean nearly choked on his last bite of doughnut. What?

  Nick chuckled. “I didn’t think you did.” He started in the opposite direction. “C’mon, Cap. I’ll show ya.”

  About halfway down the narrow hallway leading toward the stern, Nick stopped and pointed his thumb at a door beneath the bulkhead. “In there. Little thing.”

  Sean narrowed his eyes. Oh no. “How long have you known?”

  “Since we left port. It’s my job to know every inch of this ship. Just like it’s yours.” He offered a crooked, semi-toothless smile. “But then sometimes we’re too busy thinking to be looking, eh, Cap?”

  Instead of answering, he frowned, opened the door and turne
d on the light. Svala sat on a crate with her legs crossed and a disappointed look on her face. “Don’t you look over your ship before taking to sea? We’ve been out too long for you to just be discovering me now.”

  Nick released a low whistle of appreciation. “I knew you were here, honey. Just figured you wanted a lil’ taste of New England’s finest so I waited a few knots out before I gave ya away.”

  “Aw, shit,” Sean muttered and shook his head. “What’re you doing here, Svala?”

  He ignored the tiny leap of elation he felt. The spark of excitement. Her curls were wild and windblown. Faint runic symbols swept like tiny pirate tattoos along her cheekbone. She looked primal. Erotically seaworthy.

  Damn it. The woman was going to be the end of him.

  She hopped down, wrapped her fur cloak around her shoulders and started to breeze past them as she eyed his crew mate. “So you’re New England’s finest, are you?”

  “Naw.” Nick chuckled and nodded at Sean. “Most ladies think he is.”

  “Hmm, I’m not sure about that,” she said before she started down the hallway.

  “I don’t think so.” Sean grabbed her wrist and stopped her. “Nick, go make sure none of the guys head this way. Tell them I’m catching a rat or something.”

  Svala winked. “Or a dragon.”

  “Where you gonna hide her, Cap?” Nick kept grinning. “She don’t look like the type of woman who’ll keep hidden if she’s decided otherwise.”

  Svala cocked a grin at Nick. “I think I like you.”

  “I know I like you, beautiful,” he returned.

  “Just make sure no one heads this way, Nick,” Sean reiterated. “And I’ll make sure Svala stays hidden.”

  “I betcha will.” Nick chuckled as Sean pulled her toward the meager sleeping quarters.

  “I am not staying down here.” Svala started to fight him. “I want to be on deck. I want to help you fish.”

  “Hell, no.” Sean grabbed her before she could bolt in the opposite direction. “My men won’t be able to concentrate on work with you around.”

  Her eyes met his. “Then you must not lead them well if they are so easily distracted.”

  It felt as if the narrow hallway only grew smaller as her eyes pinned his…as he remembered with vivid clarity how she’d felt against him last night. “You know damn well the effect you have on men.”

  “I did not dress in modern day clothes.” She pulled the cloak off her shoulders. “See, I am dressed like a Viking again.”

  His eyes fell to the fur-trimmed, leather tunic. To the swell of her breasts and the cinch of her small waist. He swallowed and tore his eyes away. “What difference does it make? You’re still trouble.”

  “Only when I dress like a modern-day woman, yes?” Svala cocked her head. “That is why you fought for me last night, is it not? Because you desired me in those clothes?” She frowned. “Now I am not wearing them. You will not desire me so they won’t either. There will be no trouble. You will not be ashamed of yourself.”

  Sean had no idea what to make of her logic. “I’m not ashamed of myself.” But he had been when he overreacted last night. “And trust me, sweetheart, it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. You’re gonna distract my men.”

  She didn’t press closer, but her words made the hallway seem even narrower as she murmured, “Am I distracting you now, Sean? Is that why you seem so convinced?”

  When they hit a small swell, he braced his hand against the wall beside her head and bit back desire. “Just do as I ask, Svala. I don’t need any trouble, okay? Not with my men.” He ground his jaw. “This is my livelihood. Please don’t screw it up.”

  Shockingly enough, Svala looked as though he’d slapped her. “That’s not why I’m here, Sean…” She trailed off, clearly upset before she gathered herself. “I just wanted to see you fish.”

  “Commercial fishing isn’t like normal fishing.” He shook his head. “There’s not much to see, really.”

  Except there was when the nets came up. That feeling of excitement and expectation before they found out how big a load they’d caught.

  He had no idea what to make of the look on her face. She was vulnerable in a way he’d never seen her. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, not sure what to say, still confused about why she hadn’t already traveled back in time. “Maybe I can take you out fishing another time?”

  “Maybe,” she said softly, her eyes alarmingly gentle as she stepped, ‘Svala close.’ “So how are you going to keep me entertained while you hide me away?”

  Ah, there she was. The little Viking he knew so well. Except this time he wasn’t stepping away.

  Something about having her on one of his boats, on his turf, on the high sea…was different. Somehow, though it was on his territory, they had found common ground. The sway of a ship. The pulse of the ocean beneath them.

  “Sean,” she whispered, clearly sensing a crack in the wall he’d kept between them. Slowly, inch by inch, she unzipped his jacket. “If I understand things correctly, you aren’t needed for hours yet. Why don’t we use that time in a pleasurable way, yes?”

  How did she know he wasn’t needed? She couldn’t know that. But she was right.

  Sean mumbled something even he didn’t understand as her hands slipped beneath his jacket and she wrapped her arms around him. He hadn’t sunk into a woman in far too long. Not since Svala arrived. Julie had offered last night, but it hadn’t felt right. He needed more time with her. He needed more something with her.

  Yet he was starting to suspect his aversion had nothing to do with Julie but everything to do with Svala.

  Where was the firm voice that had been in his head since he met her? The one that knew exactly how she worked. The one that kept him strong and away from her? Because it was nowhere to be found as she pressed close and grabbed between his legs.

  “Shit, what are you doing, Sean?” he kept asking himself, but nobody answered. No one but her as she pulled his head down until their lips connected.

  Any hope of a rational voice in his head vanished as he slanted his lips over Svala’s and finally tasted her. Heck if he didn’t realize at that moment just how long he had wanted to do this. To kiss the negativity right out of her. To see if she tasted as sour as she sounded half the time. But there was nothing sour about this, about the way she wrapped her hand in his shirt and met his tongue.

  She was aggressive yet sweet at the same time. Feisty yet welcoming. There was a give and take between them as the kiss deepened and he pressed her against the wall. A meeting of the mind and body that he’d never felt with another woman. Not even Amber. Almost as if Svala anticipated his next move before he did and vice versa.

  Forget professionalism. Forget he ran this boat. There was a bunk a few feet down the hallway and like Svala said, he had time. So he grabbed her ass and lifted her only to stagger when the boat listed sharply.

  “What the hell…” He lowered her quickly and held onto her as the ship listed in the other direction, and they slammed into the opposite wall.

  Svala’s eyes narrowed. “What is happening?”

  “I dunno.” He wrapped her hand around a handle attached to the wall. “Don’t let go of this. I’ll be right back.”

  Sean was only halfway up the hallway when a thick fog rolled down the stairs and started blanketing everything. Svala’s hand slipped into his. “I will not leave you, mate. This is unnatural.”

  Mate? He didn’t waste time questioning what she meant by that endearment but pulled her after him as best he could. The fog became so thick he could barely see his hand never mind the walls. Even though they were likely already up there, he stopped at the cabin where the guys had been eating and yelled out, “All hands on deck. Looks like we’ve run into some unexpected weather.”

  Nobody responded.

  Dead silence.

  “There is nobody here, Sean,” Svala said softly.

  “Good, they’re already up there.” He carefully made his way up t
he stairs with her right behind him.

  “I do not think they are,” Svala said, her voice still unusually soft.

  By the time they made it on deck, the fog had lessened enough that he could see the boat. “Frank? Nick?” he called out.

  Still nothing.

  Dead silence.

  All that existed were twinkling Christmas lights on a bow pushing through eerie silence and soupy whiteness.

  “What the hell?” he repeated as he led her upstairs to the helm, hoping for a better view. “Where are they?”

  He scanned the boat then tried to contact them through the speaker system again and again. No response. As far as he could tell, his crew had completely vanished. There wasn’t a living soul on this boat but him and Svala.

  “I don’t understand,” he murmured as the fog brightened then started to peel away, leaving a stunning sunrise in its wake.

  “That was not the magic of a dragon or demi-god,” Svala said. “But that of a Scottish wizard.”

  “Oh shit,” Sean whispered, unsure what to expect.

  “Why was Grant really here?” Svala asked, her eyes on his face. “Why did he come last night, Sean?”

  His eyes met hers. “You think Grant’s doing this?”

  Svala nodded. “Why was he here?”

  “Because I needed help…” He frowned, wondering what he’d got himself into as they headed back down to the main deck. “Dealing with you.”

  Svala frowned as well, contemplative. She was about to respond when a man’s irate voice broke through the quiet. A chill raced up his spine. Why did that sound familiar?

  “It’s coming from that direction.” She pulled him to the starboard side of the boat. The fog vanished entirely, and a small boat became visible. Its occupants were completely unaware that they were being watched.

  But then that made sense because who they were viewing couldn’t possibly exist.

  It was Sean as a child with his father…the first time they went fishing.

  It felt like the ground dropped out from beneath him. Why the hell were they seeing this?

  “So you finally got your way, eh, kid?” his father slurred, drunk as the sun rose. “I’m out here fuckin’ fishin’ with ya already.”

 

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