Viking Ecstasy (12 page)

Perhaps it is just that I am happy to be alive,
Tabor thought, looking for a rational reason for his passion. Then, from an inner recess, another voice whispered,
Or perhaps you are just happy to be with her
.

The amendment did not rest easily with Tabor, and he cast the secondary thought aside as quickly as he had the questions of health and battle.

He started to encircle Tanaka with his left arm, but the pain in his biceps stopped him instantly. This pain, however, was the hot burning of regenerating tissues coming back to life, not the rotting of damaged flesh. Consequently, even the pain felt good to Tabor, and he chuckled a bit, sure at last that he would not lose his life because of Ingmar's arrow.

It was the chuckle that triggered Tanaka's protective instincts. She had developed the skill of awakening at Tabor's slightest sound, afraid that he would succumb to his wounds. She twisted sharply, rolling around so that she could tuck her knees beneath her.

"Are you awake? Are you all right?" she asked in a breathy whisper. She placed her fingertips against Tabor's throat, feeling for his pulse. It was strong and steady, though beating considerably faster than it had before. In the darkness, it was difficult to see clearly, so Tanaka had to lean forward over Tabor, placing her face close to his, trying to see into his eyes. "Tell me where you hurt. Is it your arm?"

Tanaka was completely unmindful of the fact that, leaning over Tabor, her breasts brushed erotically against his chest. And even as she looked into the depths of his blue eyes, her breasts were pressing warm and soft against him. But though she was unmindful, her body was not. Her nipples became hard and erect, and a gentle fire flamed to life within her.

"I am quite well," Tabor said, speaking slowly as though to test his own voice. He kept his words soft, having no desire for anyone's attention but Tanaka's. "Better than you will probably believe."

Tanaka had been confused so often by Tabor and his Viking ways that she let the comment pass. But why, she asked herself, did he have that damnably devilish grin on his face? When she had crawled under the blankets with him, he was shaking with the fever; now the light in his eyes suggested an entirely different kind of fever.

Tanaka sat back on her heels, crossing her arms over her breasts. Her eyes spit flames as she glared down at the infuriating Viking that she had been silly enough to worry about. In sitting up, she had drawn the blankets to her, leaving Tabor exposed.

Though she had avoided looking at him, her eyes instinctively sought his body, and not even the midnight darkness could hide the full glory of Tabor's arousal.

Embarrassed, Tanaka tried to cover him with a corner of the blanket, but Tabor laughed, amused.

"I can see you are feeling muck better," Tanaka whispered. Though she was angry she was also relieved. Tabor would soon recover his strength and vigor.

His smile faded, but the warmth in his eyes did not. He placed his hand on her thigh. To feel her beside him, to see her cast in soft starlight and shadows, was the most perfect vision he'd ever known.

"Don't . . . don't hide yourself," he whispered. "You're so beautiful, you should never hide yourself . . . from me."

Those were not the words that she had wanted to hear him say. Or so she told herself.

"You scared me," she said at last, arms crossed over her bosom. She shook her head so that her ebony hair fell down the front of her body like a robe. "I thought you were going to die."

Tabor, his hand still on her thigh, replied glibly, "I am not so easily killed."

Tanaka's mind whirled. Before, it had seemed as though the Vikings were far more modest, more inclined to feel shame at displaying the human body, than the Egyptians. But here on the boat on this starry night, Tabor was perfectly at ease despite his flagrant excitement. It was Tanaka who felt jittery and unnerved.

"That is good for me," she said at last. "Sven would have killed me if you'd died."

"He can be protective" he said, as though that explained and excused the threat. "But let's not talk about Sven now." Even in the darkness, Tanaka could see the light that sprang into Tabor's eyes. "There is much that we have left unfinished, isn't there?"

Tanaka looked away.
Yes,
she thought,
there is much that we have left unfinished. You gave me pleasure, and I gave you nothing at all.

She felt that she owed him something, but almost as soon as this emotion blossomed, she crushed it. She owed him nothing at all! Whatever magic he'd performed with her had been done for his own benefit. Besides, feeling that she owed Tabor took something away from the feelings of the moment; and, though it was an uncomfortable realization, Tanaka knew that she was more than just curious about sharing herself with this handsome Viking once again.

"There is anger in your heart," Tabor whispered.

"And how do you know what is in my heart?" she asked, letting an unmistakable edge tinge her voice.

"I can see into your heart through your eyes. What have I done to make you angry? Is it that I am alive and will stay that way?"

"No," Tanaka said quickly. "It's not that at all. I was just thinking that . . ." Her words trailed off.

She was thinking that Tabor was much more perceptive than she'd given him credit for. She was thinking, too, that the fever —the sickness —had stripped several pounds from his magnificent body, but that had only served to make him look more dangerous and predatorial, like a hungry lion on the prowl. And why, Tanaka wondered, would she want to be the prey that satisfied this lion's hunger?

As innocently as she could, Tanaka murmured, "You must be cold," and pulled the blanket —successfully this time —over Tabor.

"Actually, not in the least." He raised his hand from her thigh to boldly brush her hair over her shoulder. Tanaka closed her eyes, turning her face away, but in no other way made any move to block him. "I have a feeling that I owe you my life," Tabor continued, staring at Tanaka's crossed arms and envisioning what lay bared beneath them. "How can I repay you for your kindness and generosity of spirit?"

The teasing undercurrent in Tabor's tone was playing havoc with Tanaka's senses. He was much too weak for this kind of banter, she told herself. At least she wanted him to be too weak to follow through with any of his unspoken sexual promises. And he was promising to take her to that special mindless place he'd taken her to before, wasn't he? That place where nothing existed but feeling—pure, physical, feeling.

Memories, warm and evocative, made Tanaka shiver.

"You can surely think of something you'd like, some way for me to repay you for your kindness."

Whispering, Tanaka replied, "You don't have to do anything. You owe me nothing."

She felt his fingers curl around her wrist. When he pulled her hands apart, she let them drop to her sides without protest, uncovering herself. The deep, rumbling sigh she heard told Tanaka that Tabor was not unaffected by what he saw. Her cheeks and ears felt warm, and she knew that if she'd had a looking glass to peer into, she'd see the face of a young priestess flushed with embarrassment . . . and passion.

"You're being kind," Tabor said after a long pause. He brushed his knuckles over the crest of Tanaka's breast, then turned his hand around to cup the firm flesh. "There's nothing I can do to repay you for all you've done?"

The sensual drawl of Tabor's words incited her passion, but not without drawing an equal amount of ire. Giving her anger free rein, Tanaka turned her gaze upon Tabor.

"You don't owe me anything," she said sharply, biting the words out as coldly as Tabor had spoken his warmly. "And I don't like the implication that . . . that that is a bartering tool, something that can be traded for."

"I didn't mean to offend you," Tabor replied, taking his hand from her breast. "If you don't want me touching you, then I won't." Even in the starlit darkness, Tabor could see her iciness melt. He issued a half-smile, the one that so many women had said was sensually disarming. "But, of course, if you don't want me to touch you, then it only stands to reason that you should touch me."

Once again Tanaka's fire flashed, but this time Tabor was not put off by it. The sexual repartee had been a ploy, buying him time until the last trace of sleep's fogginess had left him so that all his senses could appreciate Tanaka. He took her by the wrist once again, but this time she resisted.

"It's one or the other," Tabor said, intentionally ambiguous.

Tanaka did not want to be honest with herself. She did not want to admit that she was curious about Tabor and what it would be like to touch him, explore him boldly with her hands just as he had freely caressed her. When he guided her hand beneath the blanket, she resisted, not out of a sense of indignation, but because she thought she was supposed to resist. But she didn't put forth much of a struggle, and she curled her fingers around the thick, solid staff of flesh without having to be told. She squeezed firmly, drawing yet another rumbling groan of pleasure from the big Viking she'd coaxed away from the gates of Valhalla.

Every nerve ending in her body was charged. Tanaka could feel Tabor's strong, rapid pulse through his manhood, and it fascinated her. She squeezed a little more tightly, testing him, experimenting, watching the expression on his gaunt, handsome face change as she stimulated him.

"It this what you wanted?" she asked, moving her small hand up and down. She watched Tabor's throat pulse as he swallowed drily. If he tried to speak, he failed, though his lips moved as though he wanted to say something to her. She watched him respond to the sensations she caused, and Tanaka reveled in her newly discovered power. It thrilled her.

He's huge!
thought Tanaka as she ran her hand along the length of him, marveling at his size and the suppressed might that burned its way through her palm and into her blood. It was immediately apparent to Tanaka that Tabor was a man of considerable dimensions, and this made her shudder slightly. Surely, he was too large to give her pleasure.

Tabor sat up, slipping his left elbow beneath him as a prop. Instantly, fire-like pain blazed in his arm, shooting through his shoulder to explode in his brain. He gritted his teeth and fell back upon the bed of blankets. Tanaka leaned over him, her hands flat upon his chest, holding him down.

"Don't try to move,'' Tanaka said, whispering. She did not want Sven or Carl or any of the other Vikings bursting in on her small bow bedroom to see what the trouble was. "Lie back. You'll only reopen your wounds if you try to move."

The passion had been destroyed by the bolt of pain that had laid Tabor prone. For long seconds, Tabor lay motionless, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Only when the pain finally subsided and his breathing returned to normal did Tabor open his eyes and attempt a smile. His forehead, Tanaka noted, was dotted with drops of perspiration.

"Is it better?" she asked, leaning over Tabor, her face just inches from his. When he nodded, she dabbed his forehead with a corner of the blanket. "Don't try to do too much too soon. You're not going to recover all your strength right away."

If Tanaka thought that Tabor would be dissuaded from his seductive goals, then she had little understanding of exactly what kind of man he was and of the unswerving allure of her own charms. Pain had slowed Tabor, but it had not stopped him, and when his gaze went from Tanaka's face down to her temptingly close breasts, she knew that he had strong desires that had yet to be addressed. As before, she sat back on her heels and crossed her arms modestly over her bosom.

"You've only yourself to blame," Tabor accused.

"You were shivering. I was trying to keep you warm," Tanaka replied. "I meant nothing by it."

Tabor just chuckled. He didn't believe her, and once her explanation had been questioned, she began to doubt it herself. Was it really such an innocent act to strip off her clothes so that her body warmth could go directly to him? Had she really hoped that her life force could be shared by him? Wasn't there just the chance that she had secretly hoped that he would awaken from the black sleep and gaze at her with the look in his eyes that was there now?

The laughter died in Tabor's throat, and when he spoke, his tone carried a mixture of authoritarian command and seductive charm. "Touch me, Tanaka."

She looked at him and felt the embers of passion that had been ignited within herself much earlier burst again to white flame. While looking straight into his eyes, she placed her hand lightly on his stomach, which was almost completely void of hair.

"I'll touch you," Tanaka whispered, her heart racing, her hand trembling as she at last came to a vague understanding of what she was going to do and why. "But you must lie there quietly. Promise me you won't hurt yourself."

Tabor grinned crookedly, wickedly. "I don't make promises to women," he said, which wasn't entirely accurate, since he'd made a promise to Tanaka earlier. "And I always try to keep from getting hurt."

Tanaka looked at the scars of varying ages covering his mighty arms, shoulders, and chest. "If that's the case, you'd better try harder. Your body looks like a map."

"A map of all the wars I've been in. Now touch me, Tanaka. Your beauty has me in a spell ... a spell from which only you can rescue me."