She didn’t think he could have possibly done anything close to warranting being trapped in a painting for five centuries. He was probably just a victim of unlucky circumstance. Witches be crazy, after all.
“These cakes of yours are really quite good,” he said, taking another and licking the frosting.
The sight of his tongue sliding across the pink fluff made her go cross-eyed for a second. And he was smiling again, which didn’t help her equilibrium. Now that he was three dimensional, he was sinfully, outrageously handsome, all rugged planes and chiseled muscles.
“Go ahead and eat them all,” she urged, always delighted to see someone enjoying her baking.
He groaned and tipped his head back as if beseeching the heavens, but took yet another cupcake, downing it in three bites.
“How are you here now?” she asked. “Do you know what broke the curse?”
He nodded around a mouthful and laboriously swallowed, looking close to tortured as he ate another cupcake before answering.
“I think it’s because you wished it,” he said. “Might I have something to drink?”
“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry.” She raced for a pitcher of ice water.
He drained an entire glass and looked hatefully at the last cupcake, but pulled the paper off and crammed it into his mouth. He drank another glass and settled back in his chair, looking slightly ill, but triumphant.
“You’re here because I wished it?” she asked, positive she had done no such thing. “That can’t be right. My friend is the one who bought the painting.”
He shook his head. “I heard you say it. You fell on top of me at the time.” He leered suggestively. “I didn’t mind it.”
She blushed, remembering her sobfest before she gave up and took a nap to clear her mind. She eyed Erik Agnarsson up and down and blushed harder. His answer was too easy to possibly be the real reason he’d got out of the painting.
“I’m surprised I was the first woman in five hundred years to wish you were real,” she said, wanting to crawl in a hole when she saw his amused reaction. She really had to stop thinking out loud.
His smug look told her she probably hadn’t been the first woman to wish that, but he turned serious. “I think it was the tears that made it work. You were crying, yes?”
“Yes.” She turned in a circle to encompass everything she owned. Which she really didn’t, since the mobsters would be coming around again to collect. When she didn’t have the money, who knew what they would do? “This is all I’ve got in the world,” she sighed. “I’m supposed to open tomorrow.”
He looked around and nodded. “This does not seem a credible depiction of the Valhalla as I’ve always imagined it, but it’s a nice place. And your skills with those small cakes are excellent. You should have much success.”
“I guess you didn’t hear the part where the loan sharks came in and told me I have a month to pay them back a hundred grand or scary things will happen?”
“Why did you borrow money from such people?”
“I didn’t,” she wailed.
As she explained, he moved closer to her, almost protectively, and she began to think he was at least partly right about why he’d been freed from his curse. She needed someone like him right now, someone who was bigger and more menacing than those thugs.
Oh, she would have loved it if he had already popped out of his frame when they were here earlier. She looked over his bulging arms and broad shoulders and just knew he could have tossed them all out without breaking a sweat. She was certain he was there to help her. As crazy as it seemed, there was no denying his presence. The more she looked him over, she wasn’t sure she wanted to deny him anything.
“I’m very sorry you’re caught up in such a predicament,” he said when she finished her story.
He stood up, looking like he might leave, and she hurriedly asked him what he was going to do now that he was free.
“I have a few things I want to do,” he said, his eyes traveling slowly over her body, a corner of his mouth sneaking up in a devilish smirk.
She swallowed hard, distracted for a moment from what she wanted to ask him. How could one look from him make her tingle all over like that? She was hot from her hairline to her toes, and her clothes felt tight and confining, as if they needed to be off. She patted her cheeks and cleared her throat.
“Do you think you could stay and help me for a while? I’m supposed to give them twenty thousand dollars in a week, and obviously that’s not going to happen. It would be great to have someone as strong as you are when they come around and start smashing things.”
His wolfish expression softened and she held her breath, hating to play the pitiful woman card, but pouted the slightest bit and clasped her hands in front of her, pushing up her breasts. Right this moment she was pitiful, and would be more so if he didn’t stay and be her protection. She leaned over and pulled her skirt up an inch above her knees.
“Look at my knees. Do you want them to get broken?”
He laughed, looking at her legs and clearly not believing the direness of her situation. “They’re lovely knees. You’re a beautiful woman, Audrey Allen. I’d love to stay and pass some time with you. I’m certain it would be pleasurable. I am truly sorry for your troubles, and grateful to you for freeing me, but first and foremost, I must exact my revenge on the one who stole my life from me.”
“It’s been five centuries,” she argued, dropping her skirt. “How do you plan to do that after all these years?”
Grateful, her butt. If he was grateful, he’d put off his revenge for a few weeks and show it. God, and the thought of whatever pleasurable ways he had in mind to pass the time— no, she had a serious problem, she couldn’t think about that. She needed him for intimidation purposes only. It would have to be a businesslike relationship or it would never work.
“I’ll find a way,” he said darkly.
She almost clapped her hands with glee, he looked so terrifying. Yes, that was exactly what she needed.
“It can’t wait a month?” she begged.
“It cannot.”
He stepped forward and took her face between his hands, and her heart almost stopped. He leaned down and kissed her forehead before striding toward the door.
“Stop,” she called desperately.
As if frozen in place with his hand on the doorknob, he stopped. She could see his back heaving as if he worked to keep himself calm, before he finally turned and glowered at her. His hand shook as he gripped the door, and something pinged in her mind, something she couldn’t quite fathom.
“Have a seat,” she said, watching in awe as he stomped to a chair and fell into it, looking stormier by the second.
Now that she thought about it, he’d declined the cupcakes when she first offered, but then he ate five in a row. It was clear he wanted to leave more than anything but now sat quietly, though it looked like every muscle in his body strained to be gone. She closed her eyes, wondering if she dared to try another test.
“Have a drink,” she told him, crossing her fingers behind her back.
He poured himself a glass of water and drank a few sips, slamming the glass down.
“You have to do what I say,” she marveled. “I control you.”
He stood up angrily and she shook her head at her poor choice of words. “Calm down,” she said. His face relaxed and he sat back down, but his eyes still shot fire at her. “Wait. I mean, please calm down. I wasn’t ordering you to— oh, just do whatever you want.”
He got up and strode toward the door without a backward glance and her heart sank. “Stop,” she called, feeling terrible. “Listen, please. I won’t abuse this power.” He was so tense with anger that all the muscles in his arms rippled, and she swallowed. “Oh, I really want to abuse it,” she muttered, aghast when he made a threatening sound. “I won’t,” she promised. “But please, I really need you to help me with these dodgy characters who think I owe them money.”
“Are you requesting my he
lp?” he asked, crossing those muscular arms in front of his even more muscular chest.
“Yes, of course I’m only requesting your help. As soon as it’s taken care of you’re free.”
“But if I choose not to help you, what then?”
She looked down so she wouldn’t have to see those gorgeous blue eyes blazing so angrily at her, and shrugged. “Well, I suppose I’d have to command you to do it,” she said.
“Do you think this is fun?” he asked, suddenly advancing a step toward her.
“No, I really don’t. It’s not easy for me to admit I need you, and it would be a whole lot nicer if you’d just agree to help me.”
“So you’re doing this to save my pride?”
“Oh my God, you’re insufferable. Yes, that’s what I’m trying to do, and also save my own sense of decency. This whole thing is weird. Do you think I like the idea of being your master?”
Oh, she did like it, she liked it very much, but she would have died before admitting it, even to herself.
He eyed her up and down, a carnal smile turning up one corner of his lips. “If you were to not abuse your power as you say, and it really is a favor you ask, perhaps you could show your gratitude somehow.” He reached out and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her flush with his hard body.
The feel of his big hands sliding around her middle made her blood race. She put her palms on his biceps and marveled at their size before leaning back to look up at him. He grinned down at her and began backing her up until she hit the cupcake display.
She really thought she should feel outraged, not the giddy anticipation she got from being so close to him. She should have punched him in his rock hard abs, not lean in so she could press against them. When he lowered his mouth to hers, she forgot everything and clung to his shoulders to keep from melting to the floor.
His kiss sent shockwaves straight down the center of her, and when his tongue slipped between her lips she sighed and opened her mouth to him. She really had no other choice but to tangle her fingers in his hair as his kiss deepened. It was as soft as she’d imagined it when he was only a work of art and she worked her way down the strands to rest once again on his powerful shoulders. God, he was still a work of art.
His hands roamed down her sides, reaching around to cup her bottom, and she wished she hadn’t been so free with tasting all her recipes. He muttered something that sounded appreciative and ground against her, sending jolts of desire to her core. Her body liquidly formed to his, her breasts tingling with every brush of his strong chest.
Even as she struggled to regain her sanity and shove him away, she found her fingers curling into his shirt, and longed to feel his skin against hers. He was so big, and hard everywhere, like a blond mountain that she wanted to climb. This wasn’t how she acted, wasn’t at all how she was, but the way he moved against her set her skin blazing, and sent her good judgment out the window.
“I’m actually feeling remarkably agreeable now,” he said, when he let her up for air. He ran his hands up her waist and stroked the sides of her breasts as he leaned down again.
Tiny sparks of reality burst back into her brain, and she knew she had to use this moment without his mouth touching her to regain her equilibrium. Flustered and heated, she shoved away from him. Who controlled whom in this place?
His smug expression told her she needed to get it together in a hurry or she’d be naked in the middle of her bakery in about four minutes. Two with the way he kept looking at her as if she was more tempting than any cupcake that ever sat in the glass display behind her. Every part of her wanted to get out of her clothes, except her brain, which was sputtering indignantly and trying to get back in charge. As much as she wanted to, peeling off her clothes and crawling all over him in front of the display counter wasn’t going to fix her problem, and it was probably a health code violation on top of everything.
“That’s enough of that,” she said, primly smoothing her skirt and surreptitiously touching her lower lip where he’d nibbled only seconds before. She wanted more of that and almost lost focus again. Visions of the mobsters walking in on her making out with her Viking put things into better perspective. “Since there’s no reasoning with you, I’ll just have to do it the hard way, er, the difficult way,” she corrected herself when she found her eyes dropping lower on his body. “You help me get my money problems sorted and then you’re free to go. And no more grabbing. Or kissing.”
“Are you certain?” he asked, still overly pleased with himself. “I rather enjoyed it.”
“Well, keep it as a nice memory then, because that’s all you’re getting.” She tried to make it seem as if it had no effect on her whatsoever, but she was still trembling and her skin had to be bright pink everywhere.
“We’ll see.” He shrugged.
She decided not to continue arguing with him. After all, she didn’t need to. “Follow me. I’ll show you where you’ll sleep while you’re here.”
He sidled up next to her, close enough for his arm to brush hers, still strictly following the rules of no grabbing or kissing, but still making her crazy for him.
“We could sleep together,” he said. “I’m sure we could have plenty of fun, even within your guidelines. Licking isn’t kissing after all, so I’d be allowed to do that.”
“No licking,” she wailed, using all her willpower not to command him to start licking immediately.
What was wrong with her? Yes, he was gorgeous, yes he was huge, but he was also a cursed Viking from hundreds of years in the past. No good could ever come from her succumbing to his charms. She needed to use his powerful body to intimidate the loan sharks, nothing else.
“And they aren’t guidelines, they’re orders,” she reminded him, shivering at the thought of having him in bed with her. Maybe if she spelled it out just so … no, of course she couldn’t sleep with him, that was madness. He caught her checking him out and she blushed some more. “That’s my room,” she said, pointing. “You are not allowed in it. Got it? Never go in that room.”
He followed her to the other bedroom and she frowned. She’d spent every last penny on the downstairs, and all that was in her guest room was a twin bed with a threadbare quilt, and an ugly, chipped side table holding a rickety lamp.
“I’m sorry it’s not very comfortable, but you can have my television if you like.”
“I have no need of it,” he said, sitting on the bed and bouncing. He smiled up at her. “You can come in this room whenever you want.”
She outwardly ignored him, inwardly dismissing his invitation on the grounds that the bed would be entirely too small for both of them. When she glanced at him, she found he continued to look at her like she was a juicy steak, and she remembered he hadn’t eaten in five hundred years, except for the cupcakes she’d inadvertently force fed him.
“I’ll go out and get us some dinner,” she said. “Just wait. You won’t be mad at me anymore when you see what I bring home.”
He stood up and got close to her. “I’m not mad at you now, Audrey.” He tugged on the hem of her blouse which had been pulled free during their little tussle against the cake display. “Why don’t I go with you? It’s been a long time since I saw the sky and breathed fresh air.”
Her heart turned over, even though he was still being maddeningly flirtatious. She supposed it was to be expected. He’d gone without everything for ages, poor man. She leaned into him and tipped her head back, but instead of kissing her on the mouth, he dipped his head lower and nuzzled her throat.
She knew it was the complete unreality of the situation that made her act so wanton and rash. She’d never once kissed a man she only knew a half an hour, let alone seriously entertained the idea of falling into bed with him. But for some strange reason, it seemed like he was hers, to do with as she pleased.
She pulled away with a gasp. That sort of thinking wasn’t like her at all, either. Erik was a human being, whether he’d been trapped in a painting by a crazed witch and freed by her or
not, it made no difference. Just because, by some insane glitch in his curse, she had control over him, didn’t mean she could take advantage of him.
“I can’t take advantage of you,” she said, pushing on his chest with all her might.
He backed her into the wall, folding her arms against her chest as if all her strength was of no consequence to him. He laughed, a low rumble that went straight between her thighs, and pulled her hands away, wrapping them around his middle.
“I don’t mind,” he said, working down the side of her neck with soft gentle breaths.
She would count to ten, and then command him to stop, but in the meantime, she got her hands under his vest and rough shirt, sighing not only at the exquisite feel of his hot, smooth skin against her palms, but at his lips trailing down her neck and along the opening of her top. It wasn’t technically kissing so she guessed he was strictly following her rules. Either way, it made her lose her tenuous grip on her self-control.
Pop the buttons, she mentally pleaded, exhaling to further strain the fabric. Just don’t stop. She wanted him to make it lower than he did, and considered counting to twenty, but at fourteen, she dug her fingernails into his back and sadly told him to stop.
“I thought you were hungry,” she said, feeling as bereft as he looked when he immediately stepped away from her.
“I am,” he said, stubbornly not taking his eyes off her.
“Just stay in the house. I’ll be back soon.”
“Take me with you,” he said.
She almost agreed. There was little harm he could cause, not when he had to do everything she told him to. She wanted to tell him to take off his clothes so she could touch him some more, and shook her head. His clothes. He couldn’t go out in his bearskin and tatty, skin tight breeches.
Valhalla Cupcakes Page 3
