An Unexpected Viking: Sveyn & Hollis: Part One (The Hansen Series - Sveyn & Hollis Book 1)

by Kris Tualla

  George continued his descent onto the seat of the chair. “Yes, it does. Now where were we?”

  “Ask him if he likes Phoenix,” Sveyn prompted.

  “Well, I chose this over Houston,” George answered when she did. “And my brother lives in Las Vegas, so this was closer to family than Boston.”

  “Ask about his occupation.”

  “What does your brother do?”

  George looked embarrassed. “He owns a tattoo parlor on the strip.”

  Hollis laughed. “Really? He’s a tattoo artist?”

  “A very successful one, I have to admit.” George shrugged. “Makes more than I do.”

  “Older or younger,” Sveyn prompted, and Hollis asked.

  “Older by three years.”

  “Married?”

  “Yes.”

  “Children?”

  “Four. All girls.”

  “Is he balding, too?” Hollis’s eyes widened. “Wait! What? No! I didn’t—ignore that!”

  George’s face went as red as the tomatoes on his sandwich.

  Sveyn’s laughter was all Hollis could hear.

  Chapter Ten

  To his great and irrevocable credit, George did not walk out on her at that moment. Hollis apologized profusely, and took him out for drinks when the Botanical Garden closed.

  Yet it was hard to remain civil and engaging with Sveyn so close to her the entire time. She was furious at the Viking for leading her into the rude question, but even more furious at herself for blurting it.

  For the rest of the evening, she refused to look at Sveyn. When he stepped into her line of sight, she turned away.

  Every time he said something to her, she deliberately spoke over his words, either by commenting on something George was saying or by asking the lawyer a question.

  In the car on the way back to the condo, Hollis stared straight ahead and ignored the large, leather-clad presence in her peripheral vision.

  By that point he was aware of her anger and probably its reason, and wisely remained silent throughout the thankfully traffic-free drive. Hollis was in no mood to deal with the normal Phoenix road crazies.

  Once back in the condo, however, she lit into him.

  “Why did you do that?” she shouted.

  “I—”

  “That was rude, and mean, and you made me look like a fool!”

  “You—”

  Hollis jabbed a finger in his direction. “Don’t turn this back on me!”

  “No, I—”

  “Stop talking! Ugh!” She pressed the heels of both hands against her temples. “I can’t believe I am having this conversation with a—a—whatever!”

  She whirled around and stomped into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. The angry tears, which she had managed to squelch all evening, now burst forth with a vengeance. Stripping off her pants and blouse as she walked into her bathroom, Hollis turned the shower on, and stepped inside the stall still wearing her bra and panties.

  “What is happening to me?” she moaned. She slid her back down the cultured marble shower stall and pulled her knees to her chest.

  The water mixed with her tears as she sobbed. So many conflicting emotions engulfed her that she didn’t know where to begin with sorting them out.

  First there was the date with George. He seemed like a very nice man, and she really wanted to go on another date with him. But she was fully aware that, because of Sveyn’s distraction and meddling, she had not presented him with her best self tonight.

  In fact, she might have completely weirded the guy out and would never hear from him again. In light of her behavior, she couldn’t actually blame him.

  Secondly—and more upsetting—was the Viking. He appeared to be real. Real, but in another dimension. Real, but invisible to everyone but her. Real, and a real pain in her ass.

  “Not entirely, be honest,” she mumbled, rivulets of water streaming over her mouth.

  He did point her to the sunstone in the hoard.

  And he explained the Blessing of the Gods thing, which turned out to be right.

  Even if she had read that or seen it somewhere, and holding the icon prompted long-forgotten information, she could not have dug straight to the sunstone without outside prompting.

  Those two things alone should be enough to prove his presence was not her imagination.

  “I know I am not imagining you, Sveyn.” Hollis admitted, She rubbed her hands over her face. When she pulled them away, her fingertips were smeared with mascara.

  She stared at the black mess. “But what do I do with you?”

  After knowing him for only three days, her panic at the thought he might have disappeared forever surprised her. She grew accustomed to his constant presence much more quickly than made any kind of logical sense. And now, after a week, she had to admit she really enjoyed his company.

  When she talked with Sveyn, he listened to her. Really listened. In comparison, Hollis realized for the first time that Matt never did. He always conversed with her, often for hours, but their conversations revolved around subjects he was interested in, not ones that interested her.

  Okay. So I enjoy his company.

  What was wrong with that? By his own admission, the Viking apparition was going to disappear someday and that would be that. This was a temporary situation at best.

  So why did that prompt a fresh round of tears?

  Hollis hugged her knees tighter. Because I like him.

  Don’t you dare say that out loud.

  No. That would make it real.

  And real stupid.

  Hollis could not explain why she had bonded with the man so quickly, but she had. Until tonight’s debacle, she felt like he was her friend. He said he was truthful and honest, so she assumed she could trust him.

  That’s it.

  That’s why she was still wearing her best bra and lacy underwear and crying in the shower at midnight.

  Earlier tonight, when Sveyn deliberately tripped her up in her conversation with George, he was working against her expressed wish to connect with a man. A modern, physical man. One that everyone around her could see and hear. One that she might have a future with.

  Sveyn tricked her into saying something unkind, and that wasn’t the person she wanted to be. It wasn’t the person she was inside.

  Niggling around in the back of her mind, poking and prodding itself to the forefront, was the guilty realization that what came out of her mouth was not entirely Sveyn’s fault. She had to take some of the blame and put it on herself.

  She got so caught up in the entertainment of being the Viking’s virtual puppet that she forgot to filter what she said. Her resulting embarrassment was painful, but not as painful as causing George’s.

  Another wash of hot tears flowed over her cheeks. The poor man did not deserve that. Hollis briefly thought about sending him a message of apology, but she squashed that idea. She had apologized enough this evening. Now it was time to move on, and not remind him of the awkward blurt ever again.

  Not until the party for our fiftieth wedding anniversary.

  Hollis smiled a little.

  With a deep, sputtering sigh, she climbed to her feet and unfastened her bra. When she pulled off her undies, she decided to go ahead and use shampoo to wash out the lingerie while she was in the shower. Besides, the delay in making her appearance to Sveyn would give him more time to consider how angry he made her.

  Two birds.

  She smiled again.

  *****

  Sveyn was sitting on the couch, knees wide, and hands clasped in his lap. The very large man looked like a second-grader sent to the principal for teasing the girl whose desk was in front of his—very sorry, and a little scared.

  Hollis walked toward the kitchen to get a bottle of water from the fridge without saying anything, but she did look the Viking in the eye. That concession was more than she offered him earlier.

  Hollis turned around and opened her water as she faced him from acro
ss the breakfast bar.

  “May I speak?” he asked. His deep voice was soft but clear. Soothing, like warm chocolate.

  “Yes.”

  Sveyn rose to his feet and stepped toward her. “I am very sorry, Hollis. What I did was indeed mean and rude, just as you said.”

  Her throat tightened. Oh, for heaven’s sake—stop crying! “I accept your apology. And…”

  His brow lifted. “And?”

  “And I have to take some of the blame.”

  His shoulders relaxed. “Yes. A little. But only a little.”

  Before she spoke again, Hollis gulped some of the refrigerated water, hoping to dissolve the lump in her throat. The effect was marginal at best.

  She met the Viking’s gaze. “The thing I don’t understand is why.”

  Sveyn nodded slowly, and his gaze dropped to the floor. “Yes. That.”

  “And what does ‘that’ mean?”

  He looked at her again. “Will you sit with me?”

  Hollis felt a dangerous surge of affection prompted by the pained and vulnerable expression on his face. She walked around the end of the counter and crossed to the chair sitting at a right angle to the couch. This way she could face him, but there was a protective buffer of space between them.

  Sveyn pressed his lips together in a resolved I understand sort of way and then settled on the end of the couch closest to her.

  He began with, “I have a confession to make.”

  Hollis stiffened; this could be bad. Very bad. “Go on.”

  “I have never manifested to a woman before.”

  That was it? “But you said—”

  “I lied.”

  “But you said—”

  “That I would never lie to you. I know.” Sveyn rubbed his bearded chin. “I must ask your forgiveness for both of these things.”

  Hollis sipped her water, considering his words. And hers. “How can I trust you now?”

  He fixed his intense blue gaze on hers. “After I explain myself, I hope you will understand both this singular situation, and why I acted as I did.”

  “I’ll try,” she promised. “So tell me.”

  Sveyn adjusted his position on the sofa. “Imagine, if you can, that my only companionship since the year ten-seventy has been with men.”

  Hollis dropped her water bottle.

  “Crap!” She scrambled to grab it before too much water spilled, then set it on the coffee table. “Hold on.”

  As she hurried to the kitchen to get a towel her heart was pounding. All of the possible ramifications of his statement expanded like a theory proof on a whiteboard—stark black scribbles, lines, and arrows, leading to differing and logical outcomes. None of them hopeful.

  Hollis returned and soaked up the water, pressing the towel into the carpet with her foot. She was afraid to look at Sveyn. Afraid of what he was going to tell her.

  She rolled up the towel and set it on the coffee table before sitting again and facing him. “Sorry about that. You were saying?”

  He blew an airless sigh. “When I manifested and you saw me, I was shocked. Surprised. I thought I was imagining it. Until you walked up to me and spoke to me, of course.”

  “Because I am a woman.”

  “Yes.” He spread his palms. “I admit that I was a bit put off at first. Most likely abrupt. I was trying to adjust my thinking as we spoke.”

  Hollis frowned. “You were fine. I was the one put off.”

  Sveyn flashed a crooked grin. “Let me say that, not only did you turn out to be a woman, the first I have conversed with in such a long time, but you are so beautiful that I spent that entire first night pondering what my time here was going to be like.”

  Hollis began to peel the label from her water. “You said I’m interesting, beautiful, and that you like me.”

  “All true.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Is that just because, you know, you’ve missed… women?”

  Sveyn chuckled. “I manifested to men. But there were plenty of women around them. I could see them all, and in a variety of situations.”

  Hollis had to ask. “Naked?”

  “Of course.”

  She almost asked a very personal question, but pulled back. “So, what is your time with a woman like?” she asked instead.

  Sveyn leaned forward. “This is going to be my defense, but it is hard for me to say. Please allow me to explain, and question me only when I am done.”

  Hollis nodded. “All right.”

  Sveyn swallowed, seemingly to gather his courage. “I am, as you must know, very attracted to you. If I was not as I am, then I would try for your heart.”

  Hollis’s eyes widened.

  “However, that cannot be. We both understand this. And yet I cannot help but feel other long dormant emotions which accompany that attraction.”

  Hollis bit her lips between her teeth and lifted her brows, encouraging him to continue.

  “The first is jealousy, of course. I want your singular affections and I do not wish for another man to claim them.” Sveyn waved his hands. “Do not worry, Hollis. I do know that this is impossible. But it will require some time for me to accept that what I desire, and what is feasible in my state, are at irreconcilable odds.”

  She nodded. The lump in her throat was back and twice its original size.

  “Because of this attraction, I am compelled to protect you. This is part of who I was created to be. Your health and safety are my concern, and maintaining them is my duty.”

  Hollis wanted to say that George did not pose a threat to either, but she kept her lips pinned between her teeth. Sveyn’s heartfelt confession deserved the silent respect that he had asked her for.

  “The fact that my mind and soul are trapped in this form and lack a body greatly frustrates my need to protect you. Can you understand that?”

  Hollis nodded again. Everything the Viking said made perfect sense.

  “There is one more consideration I must explain.” Sveyn leaned back. “This is the hardest one of all to endure.”

  “You are lonely.” Hollis didn’t mean to speak, but she already realized this.

  He looked upset, but not with her. “Yes… but being able to converse with you. Spend your days with you. Talk to you about the things you are finding in the hoard. It only shines a brighter light on my singular existence.”

  A tear rolled down Hollis’s cheek and she pushed her words past the stricture in her throat. “Talking with a bunch of men around a fire is not the same as whispering with a woman in bed.”

  Sveyn stared at her, and his eyes held the soul-deep regret of a hundred lifetimes. “No. It is not.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A very sad-looking Sveyn scuttled his fingers through his hair, though again Hollis could not discern any movement in the blond-streaked hanks.

  “Can you feel your own touch?” she asked.

  He looked startled by the shift in their conversation. “What?”

  “When you run your hands through your hair—can you feel it?”

  Sveyn looked at his hand as if seeing it for the first time. He shook his head. “No.”

  “So when you rub you face, or rest your hands on your hips, you don’t feel any of that?” Hollis clarified.

  Somehow, he seemed even sadder. “No. I suppose it is only habit which makes me do such things.”

  She pushed forward with the question which occurred to her earlier. “And when you watched all those naked women, having sex with whomever you manifested to, did you get… aroused?”

  If an apparition could blush, Sveyn outdid rush hour brake-lights in the downtown tunnel. “My body does not change.”

  Hollis leaned forward, her curiosity going beyond the bounds of polite conversation. “What about your mind?”

  “I remember, of course. “ He scowled at her. “But what good can that do for anyone?”

  Hollis retreated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  Sveyn wagged his hea
d. “My existence wears on me at times. Especially now that I have manifested to a woman. And one so close to my age.”

  “We’re alike in some ways, do you know that?” She tucked her feet under her, preparing her points of similarity. “I don’t know how long I’ll be in Phoenix. And I have no idea where I will go when I leave.”

  Sveyn’s eyes met hers, but some of the intensity was fading.

  “I’m lonely, too. I spend so many hours at work, and with my time here being temporary, cultivating relationships seems futile.”

  “But you could do so, should you desire to,” he pointed out.

  “Well, you have me on that one,” she admitted. “But as of now, my only friends are Miranda and Stevie. And I only know them because we work together.”

  Hollis was quiet for a moment, wondering about the wisdom of mentioning the third similarity between herself and the Viking. Dead ends were literally dead ends at this point. And yet Sveyn had been so open with his emotions, he deserved the same from her.

  “And the third thing we have in common is the attraction” She felt her face warming. “I think you are very handsome.”

  He looked surprised. “You do?”

  Hollis laughed at that. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? Have you looked in a mirror? Wait—can you see yourself in a mirror?”

  The Viking scoffed. “Of course. I am not merely the frightening figment of some author’s imagination.”

  Hollis laughed again. “Got it. So why are you surprised?”

  “I’m… rough.”

  “Rough is a condition. It’s not permanent. Not normally, anyway.” Hollis shrugged. “But I can see past that.”

  Sveyn’s eyes narrowed. “What do you see?”

  “Your height, first of all,” Hollis began her scientific observation. “What are you, six-foot four?”

  “Perhaps. Or five. I am not certain.”

  Hollis unfolded her legs, preparing to stand. “Let’s measure you!”

  She went to the kitchen and opened the junk drawer, digging for a tape measure and a pencil. “Stand with your back against the wall,” she said when she found them.