Yet something flared within Raknar as he caught her sweet scent and he had to wonder how safe she really was by his side. With his son on his lap…safe enough.
For now.
Wide-eyed, Heidrek stared avidly.
Raknar whispered in his ear. “It’s rude to stare, son. Introduce yourself.”
“Y-yes, Father.” His eyes went rounder when her attention fell on him.
Before he could say a word, she held out her hand and smiled warmly. “Hello, I’m Veronica.”
Evidently speechless, his son jerked his head once. Raknar moved forward enough so that Heidrek had to sit up and repeated, “Introduce yourself, son.”
Heidrek continued to stare at Veronica but when his father requested something of him, he listened. So he reached out as if crossing the wide space between Middle Earth and Bifröst as he took her hand. “H-h-hello. I’m H-Heidrek.”
Though Raknar was tempted to pull him back into his arms when Heidrek's chest sunk with his nervous words, he didn’t. If his son was to move past his speech affliction, it would have to be with nothing less than strength and support at his back. Not coddling.
Veronica shook his hand. “Good to meet you, Heidrek.” Her eyes lingered on him for a split second before she leaned close and whispered, “I’m really nervous about being here. Will you show me around later?”
“Oh, y-yes,” Heidrek gushed. “I w-would like t-that.”
Veronica nodded and squeezed his hand. “Me too.”
Naðr interrupted them when he stood, raised his horn and roared, “Again, I thank you all for nothing but success. Here’s to another good raid on English soil!”
Everyone raised their horns and roared right back.
Kol raised his horn. “To more treasure and more territory nearly ours!”
The crowd again roared their approval.
Raknar raised his horn. “To the next raid then!”
Another loud, rambunctious response followed before the music resumed and the celebration officially began. Raknar murmured in his son’s ear, “I love you.” He ruffled his hair. “Off with you now. Time for adults.”
Heidrek wrapped his arms around Raknar’s neck. “I l-love you too.”
Then, surprising him, Heidrek held out his hand to Veronica. When she took it, he kissed the back of hers then nodded. “N-nice to m-meet you.”
Before she could respond, he fled.
Veronica watched him go with a small smile. Then, seemingly aware that Raknar watched, her eyes met his. “He’s sweet. A good boy.” Her voice became whisper soft. “You’ve done well with him.”
Had he really? He wasn’t so sure. Before he could respond, Kol said, “Yes he has.” His brother’s eyes drifted with admiration over her face. “I’m glad you joined us. You look beautiful tonight.”
“Thanks.” She quirked a lip, eyes dragging between Kol and Raknar. “I feel a little out of place.” Then her eyes scanned the crowd. “Nope. That’s a lie. I feel really out of place.”
“You won’t for long,” Kol assured and nodded at Megan. “Just ask your sister. We made her feel welcome her first night here and she’s been family ever since.”
Megan chuckled and her brows rose. “Is that what the three of you did the first night I was here? I seem to recall it going a little differently.”
Naðr smirked. “Do you?”
Megan snorted and abandoned her chair to plunk down on his lap. Meanwhile, Raknar kept his eyes on Veronica. He itched to pull her onto his lap and dig his hands into her hair. The urge was so strong he clenched his horn.
“Stare much?” Megan said to both Kol and Raknar. “Stop it. You’re being rude.” Her eyes went to Veronica. “Sorry, they’re barbaric.” She handed her a mug. “Drink. It eases the brunt of being around them during a celebration…or any time for that matter.”
“We’re not that bad.” Kol’s eyes twinkled. “Most of the time.”
Raknar kept silent and despite what Megan said, kept watching Veronica as he draped an arm over the back of her chair. She sat forward abruptly but not before her eyes met his and red tinted her cheekbones. Good. She was as aware of him as he was her.
Then he scowled.
While he might be interested in Megan’s sisters for their connection to the future and their possible riches, he had no desire to develop feelings. He’d done that twice before and it hadn’t ended all that well either time.
Yet he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from Veronica as she tentatively drank then coughed, watery eyes turned to Megan. “What is this?”
“Well, Sis, there were one of two options. Mead or ale.” Megan shrugged. “I figured mead was the better choice for you.”
“Strong,” she sputtered but wasted no time taking another swig of mead when he casually spread his knees so that his leg rested against hers.
When her body quivered ever so slightly, his groin tightened. Hel. Now he was just torturing himself. But he didn’t move his leg. And neither did she. Raknar tuned out Kol’s endless flirting and again thought about the day he met her. The kindness she had offered those women. The surprising courage she showed trying to get the sail down. He hadn’t expected any of it from her. Truth told, this was the first time he’d assessed a person upon meeting them and been proven wrong.
“You’re quieter than usual, brother,” Naðr commented, his amused eyes on Raknar.
Kol snorted. “He’s just contemplating his next raid.”
Raknar’s eyes narrowed on him. They both knew what kind of raid Kol spoke of. “Your lap is surprisingly empty. Why don’t you go find some women to fill it.”
“Maybe later. For now...” He winked at Veronica. “I’d prefer to save it for someone I’d rather have here.”
“Kol,” Megan warned.
“Yes, Megan?” Kol said innocently, eyes never leaving Veronica’s face as he drank.
“Be good.”
“He’s fine.” Veronica shrugged a shoulder at Kol. “But don’t keep your lap empty on my account.”
Raknar almost grinned.
“And you,” Megan said, tapping Raknar’s hand. “Arm off her chair so she can lean back.”
Taking his time about it, he pulled his arm away and lazily curled up the corner of his lips at Veronica. “Sorry. Was I making you uncomfortable?”
She sat back and didn’t shy away from his gaze. “Not in the least.”
The mead was working fast. She was too thin from lack of food over the past week. Yet he couldn’t quite find it in him to suggest she drink slower. Instead, he slid a plate of bread in front of her. “Eat. Please. It will be easy on your stomach.” He nodded at her cup. “And help soak that up.”
“No, thanks.” Her hand rested on her stomach. “I’m not really hungry.”
Raknar disregarded her refusal and handed her a piece of bread. “A gift from me to you. One of the many ways I intend to tell you how sorry I am that your life was put in danger.”
“One of many ways?” Naðr mouthed behind her back.
Megan laughed and shook her head. “You can’t say no to a gift given to you by the king’s brother, Veronica.”
Veronica's eyes narrowed a fraction. She was trapped. So she took the bread. “Thanks…I suppose. Consider your debt paid in full.”
Kol grinned. “There you have it, brother. You are forgiven.”
“Only once my conscience is clear will things be settled.” He nodded at the bread. “Eat.”
And, thank Odin, she did.
All the while, Naðr, Megan, and Kol filled her in on everything happening around them. It seemed, however, that she had a good grasp on many aspects of his society.
Bread finished and back to her mead, Veronica looked at Naðr. “I’m interested in your court system, the Thing. How often do you oversee one of those?”
Raknar wasn’t surprised by her question. He’d spent ample time with Megan, mostly fishing, and learned as much as he could about her sisters. He knew that Veronica gained treasure b
y providing images of herself and now he completely understood why. He’d likely give up a chest of gold for just one. But that wasn’t all that made up the woman. It seemed she had also learned herself in law, a means for people from her time to settle disputes and be held accountable for crimes.
“We hold the Thing regularly,” Naðr said. “There will be one tomorrow if you would like to attend.”
“Definitely.” Veronica polished off her mead.
Suddenly tired of the conversation, or more so her talking with anyone but him, Raknar downed the remainder of his ale and though he knew he shouldn’t, stood and held out his hand. “Come. Dance.”
Veronica’s eyes turned up. “Not, ‘would you like to dance?’”
Confused, Raknar shook his head and repeated. “Come. Dance.”
Kol frowned.
Naðr chuckled.
“That’s his way of politely asking you to dance, Sis,” Megan informed. “Go for it.”
When Veronica hesitated, he curled his fingers. “It will be good.”
“Good,” she whispered, clearly unconvinced.
He looked at Megan for guidance, but she only shrugged and grinned. “I think you’ll have to do better than good, Raknar.”
Clueless as to what that meant, he only knew one way besides asking that worked.
Taking.
So he leaned over, scooped her up, and started walking.
Chapter Four
Downright confused by his behavior and pretty darned embarrassed, Veronica said nothing until Raknar set her down in the dancing crowd. But trying to make sense of him or even retaliate against his brutish behavior became near impossible when he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. Then everything that gave her direction in life went haywire.
Nothing but tall, hard, Viking male came against her and words literally became a mass of incoherent thoughts and actions. Raknar didn’t grope or make her feel used but did something far, far worse. He wrapped a hand into her hair and held her just close enough that she had no choice but to look at him.
Straight into those eyes.
They were his power. The place he took women before they knew what hit them.
Veronica made to speak, but the words died on her lips when she realized she really didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want them to share a word. Not right now. As if he sensed her surrender, his lips curled up slightly and he pulled her against him, cheek against his chest. Her eyes slid shut and air whispered from her lungs as though she’d been holding it for centuries.
What was this?
Though confused and knowing she should fight it, she melted. Dizzy and lost, he was her anchor in a sea made of turbulent memories placated, of something other than what she’d been feeling for so long. Time slipped away. Or stood still. Hard to tell. But the moments slid by or so said the varying tunes being played.
“My turn,” came a soft voice.
Soft, pliant, lost, she looked at Kol and shook her head. “Not yet.”
Surprise flickered in his eyes, but he nodded and backed away. She should want to dance with him after how good he had been to her over the past few days. Yet right now she needed the unexpected safety, the intoxicating calm mixed with need she found in Raknar’s arms.
But it really was more the calm.
The absolute serenity and escape.
“Why,” she whispered against his chest. “Why do I need this?”
Somehow he mentally drugged her. He must have. Because through the haze that she felt within his arms was the sub-reality she’d been thrust into. The time-warp. The dream, or maybe even nightmare, that meant she’d traveled back in time. That she was actually in ninth century Scandinavia.
But at least Megan was here.
Those first few moments after she’d opened her eyes not to a rain-drenched Viking ship but to her sister’s golden gaze had been astounding. Megan wasn’t dead, lost to the Atlantic, but very much alive.
Veronica had been floating on a cloud of relief and incredulousness ever since.
For all intents and purposes, it seemed she truly had traveled back in time. Everything was so real. And she’d since learned much about what had happened to her sister. Though only two months had passed since her disappearance, it had been longer here. Seven months. Her sister had married her Viking king, a man Veronica was still trying to process. A man she’d read about in the manuscript.
Megan hadn’t been kidding about his looks or demeanor. The king was damn handsome with his black hair and blue eyes. Though his personality seemed a little, okay maybe very intense, it was an absolutely perfect match for her sister’s confrontational nature.
I can’t believe she remarried.
Only when Raknar’s deep voice rumbled against her ear did she realize she’d spoken aloud.
“It was a good wedding. Days of celebration.”
Veronica pulled back, startled that she’d all but draped herself against him. She swallowed, suddenly overly aware of the thick erection pressed against her and the too heavy thud of her heart. Words, girl, find your words. Clearing her throat, she said, “I can only imagine. They seem really happy.”
Happy. That was one word for it. Amber used to be by far the lustiest of the three sisters, but Megan was beating her by a long shot right now. She had never seen her older sister so amorous. Then again, these Viking men were blatantly open with their affections.
Except maybe Raknar.
He seemed to fight it…sort of.
Not counting right now. No, right now his fingers trailed in slow circles at the small of her back when his eyes met hers, his voice raspy. “Your sister makes my brother very happy. She makes all of us happy.”
Right. She was starting to understand that about Naðr and his brothers as well. Though the king was married to Megan and she was every inch his, the bond she’d forged with Kol and Raknar was in its own way just as strong. Friendships had grown. Deep friendships. This again brought to mind what else she’d learned about the three of them.
They were supposedly part dragon.
Veronica grimaced and pushed that nugget of information away. Too much right now. Way too much. She wasn’t so sure she believed it anyways. Megan had traveled through time. That alone could be muddling her sister's thoughts. Now she just had to try to keep her own wits about her.
“I’m glad they’re…you’re all happy,” she murmured.
Her breath caught when his large hand cupped the side of her neck and his thumb tilted up her chin. Raknar’s eyes met hers, determined to swallow her whole. “We will all be happy. Even your sister Amber.”
Fire crackled. Drums beat. A harp. Flute. Yet it all faded away the moment his eyes locked on her lips. The moment the heat of his hand came against her vulnerable flesh. Fire flared beneath her skin. God, she could only imagine what he’d taste like but knew kissing him wasn’t a good idea. Not yet. Maybe not at all. Still, she licked her traitorous, throbbing lips even as she shook her head.
Thankfully, or not, Kol chose that moment to reappear. This time he didn’t ask but came up behind her. When his arm slipped around her waist, Raknar’s fell away. For a bizarre, heated moment, she was between the men before Raknar faded back into the crowd.
Just like that her skin cooled, chest tightened and she struggled for breath. The warmth, peace, even excitement vanished.
At that moment she knew.
If she was here for anyone, it was Raknar.
A shiver raced through her and she gulped hard. She didn’t want to be here for anyone. She didn’t want to be here period.
Before he could press too closely, Veronica turned in Kol’s arms and put a little distance between them. She couldn’t help but smile at the devilish intent in his eyes. “You’re nothing but trouble.”
Dimples erupted as he grinned. “That’s what they say.”
Already entirely comfortable with Kol, she shook her head. “I’m not your type.”
“Type?”
“Not the so
rt of woman you’re usually drawn to.”
“How would you know what sort of woman I’m usually drawn to,” he murmured and pulled her closer.
Hand to his chest, she pushed him back a fraction and shook her head. “Trust me, I have a good head for that sort of thing.”
Perplexed but not overly fazed, he grinned and shrugged. “You have a beautiful head. Nice shape.”
Veronica chuckled. “Thanks…I guess. Your head isn’t so bad either.”
“Thank you.” His grin faltered, as though he sensed something. “Are you comfortable dancing with me, Veronica?”
“Absolutely,” she answered honestly. But he knew, just like she did. “Just dancing though.”
Kol was unbelievably handsome with a killer sense of humor yet being around him was like being around Sean, an instant feeling of friendship and comfort without any physical attraction. Which brought her thoughts to what the three stones were supposed to mean. Three women from her time were meant for three Viking men.
But Kol and Amber?
Scandinavia would never be the same. She couldn’t imagine the sexual havoc the two would wreak on one another. More than that, she couldn’t see how anything sustainable could remain between them if they were meant for one another. They grew bored quickly. Both needed the next hot body to assuage whatever emptiness existed within them. She loved her little sister with all her heart but recognized that her spirit wasn’t just free-flying but lost and lonely, desperate for something.
Much like Kol’s.
“How do you like it here?” he asked.
She was about to answer when Naðr came alongside and held out his hand. “Veronica, a dance?”
Kol downright scowled but sighed and backed away. Where Raknar still wore his fur cloak, Kol and Naðr didn’t. Right now, the king wore nothing but a sleeveless black leather tunic and his usual intense look when he brought her into his arms.
Unlike his brothers, he kept distance between them…at least with his body. Yet there was something overly intimidating about him, even though his eyes remained soft when they met hers. “How do you fare?”
Loaded question. “I’m hanging in there.”
Viking Claim (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors Book 2) Page 5
