“Not until I get you something more appropriate to wear. What’s your size? Oh, you probably didn’t even have sizes back in your day did you? Somebody just made your clothes to fit?”
“My grandmother made my clothes,” he said, and she had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from making a yearning noise.
He looked, acted, and sounded so fierce, but when those words came out of his mouth, her heartstrings very definitely felt a tug. No, it was bad enough she couldn’t stop thinking about rolling around naked with him, she absolutely couldn’t develop feelings for him. But most of the lusty glimmer had drained from his eyes and she could see he thought about the past. All the people he loved had been taken from him when he’d been locked up and cursed to live silently and helplessly all those years.
“Stay put,” she said, rushing to her room. She found a tape measure in one of the dozen emergency sewing kits her mother constantly put in her Christmas stocking, and returned to find him standing in the same spot.
“Sorry,” she said. “I guess if I say stay put or something like that, it really means move freely about the house. Except for my room,” she quickly amended.
Being in command of someone was turning out to be more difficult than she thought. She instructed him to hold out his arms and measured him around the chest and waist, not bothering to pretend she didn’t like getting up close to him again. As she knelt down to measure his inseam, he stroked the back of her hair and chuckled. She blushed at whatever thoughts he might have been having and tried to ignore what was directly in front of her.
“Can you just hold it?” she sputtered. “I can’t reach your ankle.”
He took the end of the measuring tape, continuing his laughter while she finished.
“You’re really big,” she said, leaning back on her heels to look up at him, miles away. “Quit making that face,” she said at his suggestive leer. “Now, don’t use any of the kitchen appliances, but you can eat or drink whatever’s in the fridge. Don’t answer the phone or the door. Stay inside, unless of course there’s a fire, but there shouldn’t be.” She paused to think if there was anything else she needed to put into her command, to make sure he stayed out of trouble while not risking his safety. “Don’t start a fire,” she said, feeling stupid but unable to keep from adding it, just in case he got any wise ideas.
He looked gravely offended and she quickly apologized, promising to be back soon.
She felt like a kid in a candy store, shopping for clothes for him as if he were a new, prized doll. Remembering her money woes, she ended up putting most of her carefully chosen outfits back, settling on a few plain t-shirts, two pairs of jeans and some undies and sweats for him to sleep in. Knowing she shouldn’t, she bought him some novelty Thor boxers, hoping to make him laugh, and thinking he’d look adorably sexy in them.
Except, you’re never going to see him in his underwear, she reminded herself. Still, she tossed them onto the counter, strangely giddy to be buying him things. At the grocery store, she bought some thick steaks and salad fixings, and after a lot of hesitation, added a nice six pack of beer. It wouldn’t get them dangerously drunk, and she knew that Vikings liked their ale, so hopefully it would make him happy.
As she drove home, she tried to decipher why she cared so much about his state of mind, when he really should have just been a means to an end. She felt sorry for him for the curse he’d endured, and guilty that she was now bossing him around, and guiltier still for partly enjoying it. If only she could figure out what to do about the huge sum of money she had to come up with, she could let him be on his way to seek his revenge.
She’d even offer to help, though she didn’t think it was possible to get revenge on someone who had to be long, long since dead. What did she know about it, though? She never would have thought it possible to trap someone in a painting, but she now lived with proof that it was. She smiled from ear to ear as she pulled into her parking space, eager to lay eyes on him again.
As he sat dejectedly in the glow of the cake display light, she felt awful for forgetting to show him how things worked. It seemed like he knew so much about modern living from observing and listening from the painting, but he explained he had a very small range of vision in it, and could only see directly in front of him. Many long stretches he’d been forced to stare at blank walls, or other portraits, leaving him to wonder if there were other sad souls trapped as he was. Once he was hung directly across from a mirror, making it the worst ten years of his life, as he had to stare at the mockery the witch made of him.
She listened to his story as she pan seared the steaks and tossed the salad, presenting him his dinner with a flourish, and watching eagerly as he took the first bite. As a cook, she loved watching people enjoy her creations, but there was something different about watching Erik sink his teeth into the rare meat, something almost primal she felt deep within her. His eyes drifted shut as he chewed, and a low moan rumbled up from his throat. He licked the juices from his lips and sighed happily as he took another bite.
She was a much better baker than she was a chef, and if he enjoyed the taste of imperfectly prepared meat that much after going centuries without food, she wondered what his reaction to finally being with a woman after so long would be. Watching him savor the steak with such intense fervor, she wanted to find out more than she considered safe, and excused herself to the kitchen, where she stuck her face in the freezer to cool off.
Resting her forehead against the frosty ledge, she determined to stop looking at him for a while. He was too attractive, that was the problem. She couldn’t look at his face at all, she’d just look at his chest. No, that wasn’t going to work, because looking at his chest made her want to touch him. She would only look at his hands. She sighed, recalling what those hands had made her feel. Not looking at him at all seemed safest. He’d think that she was weird, but she was going to keep her eyes firmly averted from now on.
Feeling better, she took one last deep breath of icy air and backed away from the freezer. Straight into a hard wall of Viking. Damn it. She wasn’t looking at him at all right now and her nerve endings started dancing feverishly anyway. How much frustration could a woman take without actually bursting? She felt very close to bursting.
He slid his arms around her and pulled her close to him, moving his hands up to rest below her breasts, his thumbs brushing tantalizingly close. She wanted to turn around and scream how unfair he was being before wrapping her legs around him and dragging him to the kitchen floor. Instead, she stood frozen, barely breathing, waiting to see what new, delicious torments he would inflict on her.
“Are you going to finish your steak, Audrey?” he asked, turning her around to look sweetly down at her.
She laughed, certain she was coming unhinged. “No, go ahead and eat it. We have to wake up early in the morning to get ready for the grand opening, so I’m going to go to bed.” She pulled away from him and looked resolutely past his shoulder. “Don’t worry about your dishes, but be sure to get some sleep, okay? I’m going to need a lot of help tomorrow.”
“Never fear,” he said, full of good humor now that he’d had his red meat. “I’m a morning person. Whatever you ask of me, I’ll do.”
He smiled so charmingly, she didn’t think he was making a sarcastic jab at the fact that she essentially owned his ass. It obviously caused him rancor, but he was being remarkably good-natured about it.
“Well, thanks,” she said, thrown off kilter once again. “Um, goodnight, then.”
“Sweet dreams.” He leaned down as if to kiss her, but remembered he couldn’t, and gave her a disappointed look before heading back to devour what was left of her meal.
She touched her lips and frowned, buzzing with frustration that not even climbing completely into the freezer would erase. She’d definitely have some dreams tonight, but she was certain they’d be anything but sweet.
Chapter 4
Erik sat down and pulled Audrey’s plate over to him, smiling to him
self. The steaks were exactly what he wanted, and it was kind of her to make them for him. It was kind of her to be so accommodating at all, now that she knew her power over him. She certainly didn’t have to be. He was as good as still locked up in the painting for all the control he had over his life, and it was only her kindness that kept him from falling into a deep despair.
The moment she first directed him to eat one of those sweet cakes and he’d felt the shimmer of helplessness wash over him, he knew his curse wasn’t ended. As much as he didn’t want one, he was compelled to eat it. He could almost hear the raucous laughter of that foul creature who’d damned him to this life. He’d tried to get out of the house without her realizing, but Audrey was as clever as she was beautiful, and she’d figured it out.
He ate more slowly, wanting the remaining bites of steak to last. She’d seemed concerned she hadn’t done a good job in cooking it, but he would have relished it just as much raw, he’d been so hungry.
Now that this hunger was at least a bit sated, his focus turned to another hunger. He was forced to wait to exact his revenge, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy his time in this new prison. At least he could walk around and speak, eat and drink and touch. As he swallowed the last juicy piece of meat, he thought of how much he’d enjoyed touching his new prison warden. He’d enjoyed her obvious reactions even more. It had been so long he wasn’t sure if his judgment was clouded, but he thought he could have actually liked her quite a bit as well, if it weren’t for the pesky fact that she controlled his every movement. He’d gone too long without his freedom to be able to accept it easily.
However, he couldn’t begrudge Audrey taking advantage of the situation as she had, especially after he learned of the three men who’d come into her house and threatened her. It would be good when they came back, he could work out some of his centuries of pent up aggression on them.
He stood up and paced the room. He had a lot of things pent up and glanced at the stairs, trying to figure out a way to get around her rule of not going into her bedroom. He laughed, thinking of how she so carefully worded her rules. It didn’t escape his notice that she didn’t make a blanket ‘no touching’ rule, allowing him to get away with quite a bit. And he was going to get away with whatever she allowed, because he found her to be even more delectable than all the food she’d given him.
He thought it was only a matter of time before he completely seduced her, and if he could keep his wits about him and not let an uneasy thing like finding her so very likable get in his way, he could have her in the palm of his hand, curse or no curse.
Right now he wanted her in the palms of both his hands, wanted the sweet release her luscious body could give him. Resigned to the fact that it wasn’t happening tonight, he figured out how to use the shower and let the hot water beat down on him until it turned frigid, continuing to stand under its stinging blast. It helped to clear his mind, something he sorely needed after being tormented all day by Audrey’s beautiful, trusting face, the way her body so eagerly responded to him, and the irritating fact that she kept making him laugh. He wanted her, it was undeniable, but he had to remain true to his one focus now that he was out of the painting. He couldn’t rest, couldn’t truly be free, until he’d made the witch who imprisoned him pay.
He lay down in the bed Audrey had seemed so embarrassed to offer him. If only she knew how grateful he was to lie down at all, she could have told him to sleep on the floor and he would have been happy. Flexing his ankles, bending his elbows, shrugging his shoulders— the witch had taken even those small things from him. The fact that being able to pull a blanket over himself felt like a luxury renewed his anger.
He rolled over, consumed with thoughts of his revenge, certain he wouldn’t sleep a wink. The soft blanket he had tucked up to his chin reminded him of Audrey’s kindness to him, something she didn’t need to show him. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking of her at all, let alone so fondly, but he ended up drifting off with her firmly stuck in his head.
***
Audrey’s alarm woke her just before four and she swung her legs over the side of the bed, still in a sleep daze. Having held various baking jobs since she was a junior in high school, she was used to getting up before the roosters, but she’d had so many vigorous dreams the night before it felt like she hadn’t got any sleep at all.
Her miserable circumstances came rushing back at her as she dragged herself toward the bathroom, and she pushed it all aside, trying to remain positive about her very first day in business for herself.
This was her lifelong dream after all, and even without Maria to help her, even with the looming threat of another visit from the mobsters, she was determined to make the best of it. After a quick, energizing shower, she felt able to face the person who’d featured heavily in her dreams. She couldn’t decide if he was a silver lining or part of the cloud just yet. It was definitely going to be useful to have another body around for the (hopefully) huge crowds of customers that came in today, and what a body he had.
Standing outside his bedroom door, a million reasons to let him sleep raced through her mind. He wouldn’t be wearing any clothes and she’d fall into a coma of lust. He’d be completely untrainable on the modern cash register, measure ingredients wrong, and scare the (hopefully) huge crowds of people away when he lost his temper from the aforementioned. He would distract her with his face, causing her to mess up the recipes, causing everyone to spit out the cupcakes in disgust, never to return again. If he wasn’t wearing any clothes, and she didn’t happen to fall into a coma of lust, she might fall into the tiny bed with him, spending the whole morning …
God, Audrey, get it together, she told herself. She had to institute a blanket ‘no touching’ rule to keep him from doing all the little, sexy things he’d so smugly got away with the day before. She really should have done it then, but he was so irresistible the words wouldn’t come out. She’d liked that he’d wanted her as much as she wanted him.
She couldn’t be distracted today, though, it was too important of a day. And she couldn’t let him sleep, she needed his help. The reason his curse had been broken in the first place was because she needed him, so she had to take advantage of the fact that she had a hale and hearty Viking at her beck and call. She tapped on his door, but got no response, so carefully opened it a crack and peeked into the room.
“Erik,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “Um, Mr. Agnarsson? I need you to wake up.”
She thought she saw him stir and pushed the door open wider, grabbing onto the doorframe at the sight of him sprawled across the mattress, only covered by a thin sheet. His arms and chest were uncovered, and one leg poked out from under it, hanging off the too small bed. It appeared he did sleep naked, and she told herself she should throw something at his head and then run, but instead she took a step into the room, marveling at how smooth and golden his skin looked.
His chest rose and fell evenly as he peacefully slept, his dark blond locks strewn across his pillow in a tangle she longed to run her fingers through. His lips were slightly parted and she felt a lazy warmth steal over her as she recalled his stolen kisses. She wanted those lips on her again, and leaned over, gently brushing his hair away from his face.
“Wake up,” she said, poking him in the shoulder. It took all her willpower not to trace her fingers along his collarbone.
His eyes remained closed, but she saw his mouth quirk in a smile. Technically, he was awake, so he wasn’t defying her order, but he was going to make things difficult for her, as usual. He rolled over and ran his fingertips down the length of her arm.
“I like a little exercise in the mornings,” he said. “Care to help me out with that?”
She watched dumbly as his fingers made their way back up her arm, and blinked dizzily at his inviting smile. She had never become so stupid over a handsome man before, but it was as if he had some kind of aura about him that caused her brain cells to roll over and play dead.
All she wanted t
o do was peel off her clothes and fling off his sheet and crawl on top of him. She swore if she could just look at his eyes every day, she’d never have to go outside again. They were the exact same blue as the prettiest summer sky, as he gazed up at her with pure lust. She was so ready for whatever he had to offer, she thought they could still get downstairs in time to make the cupcakes before the shop opened, and had her leg half on the bed when she came to her senses.
What was she thinking? She was thinking about all the different things she wanted this man to do to her body, not about what needed to be done. And on top of that, she couldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how he got to her. She had to fight to keep from stamping her foot in disappointed frustration, wondering if the satisfaction she might get from giving in would be worth it.
“How about it?” he asked, licking his lips enticingly. “A little workout?”
She flicked his goosebump-inducing fingers off her arm. “New rule. No stroking.” She thought guiltily she should have instituted the blanket ‘no touching’ rule, but once again, the words wouldn’t come out. Damn it, but she liked how he mischievously found new ways to touch her, and at least she wasn’t in a coma. That was something. “If you want a workout, I have some yoga videos you can do. Alone. But not until after you get dressed and come downstairs and help me bake cupcakes.”
She smiled triumphantly at his astonished expression, quickly retreating when it threatened to get stormy. She’d given her orders at last, he’d have to follow them. If she could manage to stay far enough away from him, not look directly at him, and tune out his deep, melodic voice, she might actually get to have a grand opening today.
By the time he came downstairs, dressed in the jeans and t-shirt she bought him, both items of clothing clinging to every muscle and bulge, she was so engrossed in whipping up a batch of cocoa mocha batter that she only froze completely for a few seconds to take him in. Diligently keeping her eyes trained slightly to the left of his shoulder, she showed him how to slice strawberries and shave chocolate.
Valhalla Cupcakes Page 4
