What's Up, Buttercup? (Vexatious Valkyries Book 1)

by Jane Cousins

  Except it seems for Galen Darvyn.

  She thought she’d had him pegged last night. All those heated, midnight dark looks directed her way. The clear admiration in his gaze as it had travelled up over her long legs, flat stomach, gravity defying double d’s, full mouth, wide blue eyes, and long blonde hair.

  She hadn’t imagined the wicked tilt upwards of those sensual lips as he futilely attempted to discover more about her. She’d recognised the interest in his deep, gravelly voice, as he peppered her with personal questions in some vain hope to create a connection between them.

  Yes, she was sure she’d had the man, the Demon, pigeon-holed from his reaction to her last night. But today? Today it was like he was a whole new… irritating enigma.

  She was thrown off balance. His attitude, his entire behaviour, had shifted over night. Almost as if he no longer found her attractive. Which didn’t upset her at all, not one iota. However, it did… perplex her.

  Stephanie knew she looked like a lush, blonde bimbo without a thought in her head. She actively sought to reinforce that image. All the better to lull anyone she met into complacency. She hadn’t come across a man who could resist her wide-eyed sexpot act in… well, forever.

  Until now it seems. Slash. Gut. Jump. Lop off a head. Rear thrust of her hatchet. Spin. Kick. Stab. Slash.

  She’d woken this morning surprisingly refreshed, and more than a little discombobulated that the Demon had made no move on her during the night. Unexpectedly, he’d remained on his side of the bed. And the surprises hadn’t stopped there. There had been heated towels waiting for her in the bathroom. Followed by a small breakfast feast laid out on the square table. Damn, she’d been starving. Rule three of being a Valkyrie, food came first.

  After she’d made her way through a plate of fresh fruit, followed by two croissants stuffed with ham and melted cheese. She’d washed it all down with a freshly squeezed large glass of orange juice. Tasty and very satisfying.

  Galen had joined her as she ate, picking absently at his food, acting a little distracted. He’d enquired if she’d slept okay. If the shower had been hot enough. If she required any more sustenance. But there’d been no inane chit chat or personal, invasive questions.

  All he’d done when she indicated she was finished breakfast was to clear the table, wash the dishes and then proceed to take a seat back at the table. Pulling out some paperwork from an expensive looking black briefcase. Sending her a look that seemed to suggest her continued presence at the table would be an annoyance to him, and couldn’t she be elsewhere. Seriously?

  Stephanie had immediately leapt to her feet, muttering something about training. Finding Galen’s sudden change in behaviour so very, very… perplexing.

  She should be thankful, but for some strange reason she loathed this unexpected shift in his demeanour. Being so darn thoughtful. Seemingly expecting nothing in return for all his good deeds. Respecting her personal space. Refraining from making idle, inane chit chat.

  Not that she wanted his attention. Absolutely not. It’s just he’d been looking at her last night like she was the prized decoder ring in his cereal box, but this morning, he clearly, for some unknown reason, appeared to have changed his mind.

  Now, those dark eyes simmered with nothing but polite coolness when they looked her way. That smile of his was friendly enough, but it was missing a sensual, wicked invitation. There was no teasing lilt in his gravelly voice this morning. He was acting like they were passing strangers who just happened to be sharing the same elevator, or, in this case, subterranean cavern.

  Seriously, he’d just sat there, concentrating on his paperwork the entire time she’d been working up a sweat. He hadn’t even lifted his gaze when she’d morphed her t-shirt into a tight, tiny sports bra.

  Not that she wanted him gawking at her, admiring her form or anything. It was just more practical to train in suitable attire, that was all.

  All the Demon did was just sit there. In his navy trousers and red and white striped shirt with the sleeves rolled up, displaying tanned, muscular forearms that looked capable of holding off an enemy. His black hair falling over his forehead. It needed a cut, as occasionally it obscured her view of him. Permitting her only the occasional glimpse of the passing scowls that flickered across his features as he made notes. Or an intermittent smirk of triumph as he appeared to find something that pleased him whilst reading through some documents.

  His concentration was completely focused on those files and Stephanie couldn’t explain it, but, damn, it pissed her off. Slash. Slash. Stab.

  Grrr. With a final flurry of intricate hatchet work, panting, Stephanie completed her workout. Her shoulder muscles were on fire and her right hip was throbbing. Enough. If she kept this up she would only hurt herself. Slowly, she took five deep, cleansing breaths. Tamping the pain down. Disappearing her war hatchets, she studied her surroundings. Okay, now that she was warmed up, it was time to find a way out of this cavern.

  Ignoring Galen, she wandered over to the rock fall covering the entrance. If the Demon was telling the truth about the length of the access tunnel, it would take her a good week to clear the debris. That was if she had somewhere to move the massive amount of rubble to and if there were no further cave-ins as she worked. Hmmm, doable, but not her first exit choice.

  Of course there was one obvious clear egress option.

  Walking down the short tunnel to the hot spring, Stephanie peered upwards at the gaping round hole in the ceiling. She was incredibly lucky to have fallen through some kind of naturally occurring fissure or chute in the mountain’s structure. Her training having paid off when the earth beneath her feet had crumbled away. Tucking her arms in tight. Not fighting gravity.

  Falling, she’d counted the amount of time it had taken her to arrive at her destination, sliding down that weirdly smooth chute. Three miles straight down before she’d broken through what had essentially been a few thin layers of crusted dirt and rock, before plummeting into the spring.

  The idea of scaling up the inside of a mountain did not daunt her. She relished the challenge it would present her. There was only one little problem, how could she reach the chute?

  The water beneath that particular spot was too deep. The cavern ceiling too high. Stephanie frowned, running through various scenarios, but all would be nothing but a waste of her time and energy. Only one sensible option was available to her. Damn it.

  Turning, she stomped back to the main living space. Glaring daggers at the Demon who didn’t appear to register her presence. His focus on nothing but the open file in front of him. Pen scratching busily away as he made several notations.

  Galling, it took Stephanie three not so delicate clearings of her throat to garner Galen’s attention. He glanced up, an inquiring look on his face. Grrr, it cost her to say the words. “I need your help.”

  She expected him to bitch, moan and protest the interruption but all he did was close the file, flow to his feet rather gracefully, considering his size, and gift Stephanie with a polite, friendly smile. Double grrr.

  “Sure, what do you need?”

  Stephanie grit her teeth. Being surly in the face of his easy offer to help out would only reflect poorly on her. Swinging around, she silently led the way to the hot spring. Standing beside the small rock retaining wall she gestured up at the hole in the cavern ceiling. “I need to get up there.”

  Galen did no more than nod once and immediately began shedding his clothes. Toeing off his boots first, unbuttoning his shirt fast, belt next, removing his trousers last. Until there was nothing but a small pile of clothes next to him and he was left wearing navy boxer briefs.

  Stephanie’s stomach had knotted when he began his rather matter of fact striptease. He wasn’t shooting her any coy looks. Or stretching out the act as if to entice or capture her attention. Still, she was a Valkyrie, used to sizing up her opponents. Whilst she’d glimpsed his naked chest last night, she’d been more interested in getting out of the spring and the
strange cavern, than cataloguing the Demon’s many, many good points.

  At six-foot-four, he was surprisingly fit for a man whose job appeared to involve nothing but reams of paperwork. Well defined calves, sturdy, strong looking thighs. The hard, rigid planes of his stomach denoted impressive six pack abs that led up to a sturdy, muscular chest.

  That weird fluttery feeling started up in her gut once more. Stephanie dismissed it as nothing but anticipation… for the challenge ahead of climbing the chute, nothing more. Nudity didn’t phase her. Valkyries were trained in the study of anatomy from a very early age. How else could they kill effectively if they didn’t understand every facet of it?

  She was not admiring the Demon’s robust frame, she was assessing it, for future use if… when, she needed to kill him.

  Saying that, Stephanie had to admit two things to herself. Galen Darvyn had a superior body. The man should be a fighter. A gladiator. A warrior wearing nothing but a loin cloth and wreaking havoc on the battlefield. Heavens, she needed to eradicate that weird, fanciful image from her thoughts.

  The second thing, she was strangely grateful he’d kept his boxers on because she found the Demon’s barely clothed state to be a tiny bit, hardly worth mentioning… distracting. She’d barely had that thought when Galen turned towards the hot spring, reached down, shucked his underwear and dived into the deep water.

  Damn, that had been like looking at an eclipse. Stephanie blinked, trying to shift the indelible picture the sight of Galen’s tight ass had made, burning an after image onto her retinas.

  Freyja help her. Gritting her teeth, Stephanie morphed her shellan from shorts and a sports bra into one-piece black bathers. Smart and sensible. Okay, the suit was a little high cut on the thighs and derriere, but the damn spring was warm.

  Diving in, she swam towards the centre where Galen was waiting, treading water. Black hair slicked back, his midnight dark eyes reflecting the shimmering flames from the surrounding hurricane lanterns. It was just a reflection, Stephanie reminded herself, there was no heated appreciation in those depths, just annoying politeness.

  “So where do you want me exactly?”

  She double checked. Nope, no teasing tilt to his sensual lips, no innuendo here. He straight up was just willing to drop what ever he was doing, shed his clothes and let her take the lead. Damn, was the spring extra hot today? “I need to get up there. If we dive down, I’ll get on your shoulders and you push off the bottom. I should be able to reach the chute. What do you think?” Why was she even asking his opinion?

  “Can’t hurt to try.”

  Galen was still damning himself two hours later for uttering those four trite words. Can’t hurt to try? He was a fool. He wasn’t worried about his own bruised shoulders or burning lungs. He was worried about his Valkyrie. Forty-one attempts and every one a failure.

  The first few goes had just been about getting their team work right. The next few had been about launching Stephanie out of the water in the right position, directly beneath the chute.

  Following that it was just one frustrating attempt after another. Watching as she clambered up into the hole and disappeared. Only to reappear a few seconds or minutes later, falling fast, bringing with her clods of dirt or the occasional rock.

  Her hands were bleeding. As was her forehead, which also sported several dark bruises. There was a long cut down her right upper arm. Several puncture wounds decorated her left thigh. Her right thigh was nothing but one big purple contusion. And her right knee looked swollen. She was dirty, bruised and bleeding but still very, very determined. He’d be turned on, if he wasn’t so upset about watching the - never admit defeat, never say die - Valkyrie injure herself over and over again.

  His inner Demon was clawing away at his gut, expressing their united dismay at watching Stephanie hurt herself. However, it had also proven to be an important lesson for him. His soul mate was a Valkyrie. Her job was war. She would invariably come home battered, bruised, occasionally broken. He was going to have to find a way to be okay with that.

  If he tried to wrap her up in cotton wool, she’d eviscerate him. If he ever attempted to molly coddle or protect the woman, he was guessing he could say goodbye to his head. Unless he did it in a devious, underhanded manner. Hmmm, something to think about.

  Stephanie was tenacious, focused and highly trained. He was just going to have to accept the fact that her job was dangerous. Maybe, just maybe, if he could manipulate her into claiming him, to falling in love with him, then she would dedicate all her skills, all that tenacity, into keeping herself safe. Doing everything in her power to come home to him at the end of each battle.

  Bloody hell. He hadn’t been in Stephanie’s company twenty-four hours yet and she was tearing his carefully built world down about his ears. He, who prided himself on his superior intellect and superb control, was barely hanging on by his fingernails.

  This plan he’d enacted better fucking work. Now he knew the stakes. Had met his destined one. The thought of attainting the true in-sync level of Knustabber was nothing but incidental. All that mattered was Stephanie. Winning her claim. Her love.

  He prayed to Lucifer, he was on the right track. Making her breakfast this morning. Treating her with nothing but cool friendliness. Keeping his distance. Fuck knows what sort of notes he’d made in his files whilst the Valkyrie had trained. It had been all he could do to keep his head down and wait for her to stop twirling, panting and bouncing. So much bouncing.

  Galen’s head snapped up as he heard a cry of dismay, followed soon after by Stephanie falling out the chute, belly flopping into the water.

  Fuck, enough was enough. He was trying to be polite. Friendly. Cool but not cold. But he wasn’t a pussy. And he was damn tired of watching the Valkyrie hurt herself. With that he began swimming to the edge of the pool.

  “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

  “Lunch time.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Stephanie grit her teeth, because she was frustrated at this halt in her bid to escape this prison. Not because the sight of Galen’s bare ass, as he hauled himself out of the steamy water, suddenly had her salivating. Hmmm, perhaps she was hungry after all.

  Still, Stephanie took her time. Dunking her head under the water, scrubbing away all the grit and dirt she’d accumulated. Determinedly ignoring all the various aches, pains and things that were throbbing throughout her body. It was just pain, she would heal soon enough.

  Hauling herself out of the water she grimaced, trying not to put too much weight on her right leg. Okay, sometimes pain wasn’t a fan of being ignored. But she was a Valkyrie. She would not acknowledge it.

  She wrung out her ponytail and morphed the bathers away. Replacing them with a short sleeve, blush pink t-shirt, and raspberry and white checked short-shorts. She couldn’t help it, at heart, she was a bit of a girlie girl when it came to fashion choices. Raspberry espadrilles completed the outfit.

  Not that what she chose to wear mattered. This pit-stop was just a means of fuelling her body. It wasn’t like she was sitting down for some intimate lunch with a tall, dark-eyed Demon. One with studly, broad shoulders. Who’d had no problem taking her weight again and again as he launched her upwards on them to the cavern ceiling.

  So what if, in the course of the exercise, she’d noticed the muscular planes of his back. The silky thickness of his hair. Or been just a little impressed with his strength. She needed to push all that silliness aside.

  The Demon was nothing but a useful tool. One that would help her escape from this plush hellhole. One with never ending hot running water. A working toilet. A kitchen full of food and lets not forget the wine rack full of whiskey. Yeah, absolute hell.

  But, she owed it to her Sisters to return to the battlefield. Even if it was just a corporate training exercise, with no real stakes in play.

  Stephanie’s stomach tightened and that fluttery feeling went into overdrive as she walked - no limping here - into the main cavern area to find Galen wa
tching her closely. A scowly, dark look suddenly settling over his features. He looked… angry, and why did that excite her just a little? Maybe because she preferred that grumpy frown to all the polite, cool smiles she’d been on the receiving end of all morning. Galen’s ink dark eyes glittered with barely suppressed fury.

  A little shiver of anticipation ran down Stephanie’s spine. Weird. Hmmm, she had hit her head several times in the past two hours, it was as good an explanation as any for her reaction to him. “What’s climbed up your ass and died?”

  “Excuse me?” Galen’s tone was low and gravelly. The words spat out from between clenched teeth.

  “You looked pissed off. What’s up?”

  He would not engage the Valkyrie in conversation right at this moment. He was too enraged. “Sit.” He instructed, before walking away abruptly.

  Stephanie didn’t take orders. Well, okay, yes she did. From Valkyrie leaders, Management and her trainers. But not from some Demon she’d only met yesterday. Okay, yes, her knee was on fire, and she’d love to sit down, but sue her, she was Valkyrie, being contrary was in her DNA. “What do you intend to do with that?” She eyed the box in Galen’s hand as he returned from the bathroom.

  All he did was give her an exasperated look. Slamming the first aid kit down on the table before moving towards her, a decidedly menacing look on his face.

  Stephanie wasn’t sure what the large Demon’s intentions were. Should she call her war hatchets? No, he had no visible weapons. She was always preaching to the younger Valkyries that physical violence didn’t have to be their go to response every time they were challenged. She studied Galen carefully as he came to a halt only inches away from her, staring down, his lips pressed tightly together. His dark eyes pinning her to the spot.

  “Sit. Down.” The words were spat out.

  Another alien shiver ran down her spine. Ignoring it, Stephanie arched a fine dark blonde eyebrow upwards for a split second before a mocking smirk lifted the corners of her mouth. “Make me.”

  “If you insist.”