Viking Ecstasy (4 page)

❧

Ingmar the Savage looked over the high wall surrounding Hedeby, standing atop the small, solid-roofed structure that was populated mostly by women who traded passion for financial survival. There were many ships at anchor near the sea entrance to the Danish trading port, but those boats didn't interest him. Ingmar was looking for the large square blue and white sails and the high wolfs head frontpiece that so clearly defined his raiding boats.

If his younger brother Hugh had followed the instructions and plans Ingmar had devised, within hours Tabor would be nothing more than a memory of troubles that once plagued him. If. . .

The trouble was that Hugh had a habit of creating his own battle plans, and thinking had never been one of his strengths. He lacked Ingmar's size, power, and cunning. But what he lacked he made up for with savagery, a lust for cruelty, and a willingness to commit any heinous crime against humanity he deemed necessary. As such, he had the skills to support Ingmar if he were to rule the Scandinavian seas, since every captain needs a mate to carry out his orders. But Hugh's inability to understand his limitations made it impossible for Ingmar to put complete faith in his brother.

"What is so interesting out there?" an intoxicated woman of questionable virtue asked from the top rung of the ladder that led to the roof. "There's more to look at down here."

Ingmar examined the woman. She needed a bath and smelled of soured wine. When she ran a hand suggestively up and down her side, he scowled. On principle, he never paid a woman to have sex with him. If a woman didn't want to sleep with him, he forced her; he never paid. That was for powerless men who were not in control of their own lives.

"Leave me, woman, or I'll make you suffer for disturbing my concentration."

The woman instantly disappeared from view. Ingmar turned his attention back to the water, looking for the approaching boats that signified the return of his fleet . . . and the first stage of the total destruction of Tabor.

T
anaka could tell that Tabor was disturbed by the postponement of his meeting with Ingmar. He was not a talkative man even under the most favorable conditions; since receiving the request from Ingmar's servant that their meeting wait until dawn, Tabor had been stony in his silence.

"He drinks much," Tanaka said quietly, kneeling on a thick wool blanket near the fire in the center of the hut. "Perhaps he has had so much wine that he is afraid."

Tabor cast Tanaka a sideways glance. It surprised him that she could know him for such a short period of time and yet be able to read his thoughts and moods with startling accuracy. Her grasp of his language — though she spoke with an accent — shocked him, too; and he wondered whether she had really learned it during her captivity with Ingmar as she had claimed.

"Sometimes you speak like a witch-woman," Tabor said, slowly twisting the handle of the double-bladed dagger between his palms. "Perhaps you know more than you say?"

Tanaka shook her head, sending her damp, unbound hair back and forth over her shoulders. "No, I am no witch from the underworld. I do not pretend to see into your heart, but to look into your eyes is to see a man who is thinking many thoughts . . . troubling thoughts."

A grin pulled up the right side of Tabor's mouth. "If my eyes show you that much, then I must be careful not to let you see into them."

Tanaka almost replied that to not see into his eyes would deprive her of one of the few pleasures she had known since her capture, but she was able to stop the words before they escaped.

What was happening to her?
she asked herself, more mystified than angry.
Why wasn't she more contemptuous with this huge Viking who held her captive?

As though to confirm to herself that she was a captive, Tanaka boldly asked, "What do you intend to do with me. . . . When you are finished with me?"

For no more than a second, anger flashed bright and fierce in Tabor's eyes. Then his features softened almost imperceptively. "I will take you to Kaupang by the first available boat. There you can find a husband to take care of you. With your beauty, you should have your pick of successful men who will want you as their bride. And I will give you something so that you have a dowry."

Demeaning insults that Ingmar had hurled at her over the past weeks still burned in Tanaka's consciousness, destructive words that forced her to ask, "My skin is not too dark to be beautiful?"

Tabor, sitting cross-legged beside Tanaka, set the dagger down on the blanket before the fire. He twisted to face her more directly, then cupped her chin gently in his large palm. "Your skin is the color of gold, the most precious metal in all the world. Any man who cannot see that does not deserve you."

The words thrilled Tanaka, and the touch of his battle-calloused palm against her chin, his fingers lightly touching her cheek, sent a strange warmth rippling through her. "Why . . ." she began, then had to stop to moisten her dry lips with the tip of her pink tongue, unaware of the erotic vision she presented to Tabor. "Why would you give me a dowry? You do not have to do that."

Tabor looked at her strangely, at first not understanding why she would say such a thing. "You come from a land far from here, so perhaps you do not understand the ways of the Vikings. I did not ask for you; you were given to me. Though you are called a slave, I do not recognize any human as slave. But you are my responsibility, and I must do what I can to see that you have food to eat, clothes to wear, a home to live in. Without a husband, you will not have these things." He shrugged his broad shoulders in his characteristic way, as though there were many things in the world that he simply accepted as immutable laws sent down from the heavens. "Some men find women more attractive when they have a dowry. It is the least I can do."

For a while, neither spoke, contemplating the full impact of what Tabor had said.

"Put your feet in my hands and I will warm them," Tabor continued finally, breaking the silence. "After they are warm, I will give you thick woolens to keep you comfortable."

He wants me to trust him, but in the end, though he does not insult me like Ingmar the Savage, Tabor is still a man and only wants what it is men always want
, she thought with grim resolve, determined to keep her soul as isolated and protected as possible.

"You don't need to be frightened," Tabor whispered.

"No?" Tanaka asked.

Though she did not trust Tabor, though recent history with these barbaric Viking tribesmen had taught her that they took whatever they wanted and asked permission of no one, Tanaka twisted on the blanket until she was sitting with her feet extended toward Tabor. She did not trust him, but she dared not openly defy him. She grabbed the shirt and pulled it down as far as she could, to about mid-thigh level.

Smiling, Tabor took her feet in his hands and cradled them in his lap, his large hands engulfing and surrounding her.

"Your feet are so delicate," Tabor whispered, running his hands over the soles and toes of Tanaka's feet.

It was difficult for Tanaka to remain in that position while holding onto the bottom hem of the shirt with both hands. She felt disturbingly vulnerable and attracted to Tabor, and she welcomed neither emotion. At last, afraid that she would fall backward and completely lose whatever modesty she had been able to maintain, Tanaka cautiously placed her right hand behind her to keep herself propped up as Tabor slowly and sensually warmed her feet. With her other hand she stretched the shirt as far down her thighs as she could manage.

Tabor ran his fingers over Tanaka's feet slowly, warming them. But his hands strayed upward until he was massaging the gentle curve of her calf. Tabor watched his hand, his flesh pale against her golden-hued skin. Never had he felt skin so velvety smooth; and, though he prided himself on his control over self, desires, and instincts, he felt a stirring within —even though pleasuring himself with Tanaka was not proper Viking conduct.

"This Kaupang ... it is far away?" Tanaka asked, but she was not entirely interested in receiving an answer. Her entire concentration was on the strong fingers that had worked up her calf and were now above her knee, kneading the muscles at the lower part of her thigh.

She should say something appropriately scathing to Tabor. She had never let Ingmar touch her without grimacing, without in some way letting him know that she loathed his touch and everything about him. Yet when Tabor touched her, she felt his fingers and did not feel violated. She was torn between what she felt she should say, and what she actually felt.

Tabor answered her, but Tanaka did not — could not —pay enough attention to hear the answer. The kneading fingers were now at her mid-thigh, just beneath the hem of the shirt which she still held tightly to; and the warm tingles that had started in her leg were now traveling slowly but steadily throughout her body. Most surprising of all for Tanaka was that she felt moist high up, at her private area, and this had never happened when Ingmar the Savage had pawed her.

She watched Tabor's hand moving over her thigh. His massive forearm was solidly hewn with thick muscles, crossed with blue veins.

How far will he want to go?

It was a tantalizing question to Tanaka. With a certain horrifying dread, she wanted Tabor to continue touching her, exploring her body with his calloused, powerful hands. She knew, too, that she would do whatever it was he demanded of her. Denial, she had been taught, accomplished little with a Viking —he would simply take from her whatever he wanted and perhaps beat her for her defiance. That was the lesson she had been taught by Ingmar the Savage, and she would not forget it now that she was the captive of Tabor, Son of Thor.

If I have to take him inside myself, will I enjoy it?

The thought made Tanaka's heart leap in her chest and her eyes open wide. It was too easy for her to forget the horrors she had been taught now that she was influenced by the gentle ministrations of the Viking called Tabor. Tanaka turned angry eyes on her captor with renewed vigilance against the weakening of her defiant spirit.

Choosing her words very carefully, angry with herself and with Tabor for his seductive ways, she said, "If you're going to do it, have done with your foul deed. I'd like to get this over with as quickly as possible."

The words stabbed Tabor, piercing his contentment, insulting him, reminding him that he was going further with the Egyptian beauty than his personal code of honor allowed. He tossed her legs off his lap, twisting Tanaka sideways. For an instant he was given a glimpse of Tanaka's buttocks, and the reflexive hardening of his groin further irritated his increasingly savage mood.

"If I had wanted to rape you, I would have done it long ago," Tabor said. He bolted to his feet, glaring down at Tanaka. "If I had wanted to sell you for profit, I would have done that, too. You see, I have complete and total power over you. In Hedeby, you are my property." He drew the last word out slowly, venomously, for maximum effect."Do not try to vex me, woman, or you may succeed; and if you do that, I promise you will harbor many regrets."

Tabor wheeled away from her, picking up the battle-axe. "You must come with me . . . now!" he said, barking out the words. He was a man long accustomed to giving orders.

Fear lanced through Tanaka like the razor-sharp iron tip of a fighting spear. She spun quickly on the blanket, pulling her knees beneath her, turning beseeching eyes that silently asked for sympathy from Tabor.

"I am sorry! Sorry for everything!" Tanaka said, her tone rising sharply with her fear. "Don't sell me back to Ingmar! Please don't!"

Tabor grabbed her by the upper arm, hauling her roughly to her feet. Tanaka, afraid that she would be sold yet again —either back to Ingmar or someone even more heinous —threw herself at Tabor, trying to get her slender arms around his neck to kiss him. When she collided with his body, it was like crashing into an oak tree, and Tanaka realized how truly small she was compared to the broad-shouldered Viking.

In vain she tried once more to kiss Tabor's mouth; since he was well over a foot taller than she, all he had to do to avoid her lips was keep his back straight. The horrible stories she'd heard of women who were sold to several Vikings drove her to behave shamefully . . . appallingly. However bad Tabor could be, however great her humiliation before him, one man was not as bad as a dozen.

"I will be good to you, Tabor!" Tanaka said, nearly crying now as his huge hand clamped around her wrist as he pulled her toward the door of his hut. "Do not send me away! I can be the woman you want! The slave—"

"Silence!" Tabor bellowed. When Tanaka tried again to kiss him, he pushed her to arm's length, his gigantic hands now on her slender shoulders. "If you think I need to use force to get women to come to my hut, you are greatly mistaken. And if you believe that I would sell you back into slavery, you are doubly mistaken." Tabor's blue gaze spit flames of rage at the trembling, frightened woman. "If you do not want to stay here with me, then you can stay with Knut and his wives. He would not mind another mouth to feed."

"W-wives?" Tanaka stammered, thinking these Vikings were surely the most barbaric people ever to curse the face of the earth.

"Yes. The last time I talked with Knut, he had four. He's probably got more now." Tabor started to push Tanaka toward the door again. "You will be safe with Knut."

Tanaka doubted that she could ever feel safe with any man who had four wives. She pushed against Tabor's hands, resisting the powerful Viking's pull as much as she could.

"I do not want to go," she said, looking straight into Tabor's eyes, her will challenging his. "I tell you the truth. If I insulted you, I did not mean to."

Tabor laughed at that, shaking his head slowly. Eventually, even Tanaka smiled.

"Perhaps I did mean to insult you," she said, her back to the pinewood door. When Tabor was smiling, the full force of his masculine magnetism struck her. "I am scared. Many bad things have happened to me since I was taken by Ingmar the Savage. You can understand, can't you?"

Tabor nodded. "Yes ... I can understand. You do not need to be frightened of me."

He pulled her close, wrapping his powerful arms around her in a loose embrace. Tanaka's arms were at her sides, her cheek against his chest, her plush breasts pressing firmly against him. He stroked her hair and whispered once again that she did not have to fear him, but Tanaka knew better. She had to be afraid of Tabor—to fear him more than she had feared anyone, even Ingmar — precisely because he made her aware that she was a woman and because he could make her wonder whether all men were inherently evil, a truth she had to hold onto.

"Let me stay," Tanaka whispered, her words muffled slightly against Tabor's rough wool tunic. "I promise I will not cause you any more trouble. Promise."

Tanaka was distinctly aware of several things. She could feel the powerful beating of Tabor's heart. She could feel, too, the fearful, frantic beating of her own heart and the scratchy texture of the thick shirt against the erect tips of her breasts. Inhaling, she caught the faint, distinct scent of Tabor and found it disturbingly pleasing. Only moments earlier she had been chilled, her feet actually cold, but now she felt almost overheated from head to toe. Never before had an embrace offered comfort. Tabor stroked his palm down her hair and over her shoulders, sending an unprecedented sensation shimmering through her.

"Tanaka . . ." Tabor whispered.

It was the first time he had spoken her name, and Tanaka thought the sound coming from Tabor was wildly arousing. She tilted her head back to look up into his face, and he cupped her chin in his palm.

Tabor bent low until his lips were just inches from hers, and he purred, "Do not fear me."

"I must," Tanaka replied a moment before Tabor's mouth dropped down to cover hers, claiming her lips in a possessive kiss that took her breath away.

After being captured by Ingmar, Tanaka had sworn to herself that she would never close her eyes, no matter how horrifying the world became. But now, with Tabor's warm lips pressing firmly against her own, his arms like bands of iron encircling her, closing her eyes was the most natural thing in the world to do. Sighing, aware simultaneously both of Tabor's great strength and great tenderness, Tanaka tried to pretend —at least to herself—that the kiss did not affect her. She had been kissed before, and the kisses had left her feeling defiled; Tabor's kisses were no different.

Liar
! her body shouted, refusing her even the small comfort of self-delusion.

Each passing second heightened Tanaka's passion, weakening her resolve to feel nothing at all in Tabor's embrace. Her full breasts, held tautly against Tabor's body, felt painfully compressed, the nipples hard and aching, roughly tantalized by the coarse texture of the shirt she wore and by the heat of Tabor's powerful body.

Time lost meaning, and she did not know how long the kiss lasted. When she felt the tip of Tabor's tongue against her lips, she willingly opened her mouth to accept his deeper exploration. A deep, rumbling groan of pleasure rumbled from Tabor, the sound reverberating through Tanaka, almost drowning her own throaty moan of excitement.