Viking (22 page)
Fiona uttered a startled cry and fell back against a bolt of cloth. That was where Thorne found her, leaning against a bolt of scarlet silk, her face white as fresh snow.
“Fiona, what is it? Are you ill?”
Fiona shook her head. “ ’Tis naught.”
“You’ve had a vision,” Thorne said with sure knowledge. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Oh, Thorne.” He held out his arms and she went into them. “I did have a vision. Bretta is dead.”
“Aye, you’re right, love. Her battered and empty dragon ship has returned with the tide. ’Twas the storm. Everyone aboard perished. Is that what you saw?”
“I saw only Bretta. She was floating at the bottom of the sea.”
He kissed her trembling lips. “ ’Tis God’s will, love.” He meant it, though he would carry with him forever the vision of Fiona placing a curse upon the woman who had tried to kill her. God’s will or a wizard’s spell, he cared not. Either way, Bretta had been punished. And he’d never tell Fiona what he suspected. ’Twas best she didn’t remember.
Suddenly Fiona realized what Thorne had said. “Do you not mean Odin’s will? Or Thor’s will? Do you realize you just gave credit to my Christian God?”
“Aye, I know exactly what I said. When I had given up all hope of finding you alive in the cold waters of the fjord, I prayed to my gods to spare you. They chose not to reply. Then, out of desperation, I appealed to your Christian God, promising to turn Christian if He’d give you back to me. Seconds later you literally floated into my grasp.”
Fiona stared at him in numb disbelief. “Are you very certain you are willing to embrace my Christian God?”
“Aye, I always keep my promises. Now that I
think on it, perhaps that was Brann’s intention. Why would I allow a lowly slave to lure me into marriage when I could have taken her at my whim if ’twas not ordained by some high authority? I would never have sought a Christian priest to perform the ceremony had it not been intended that I become Christian. And why would I leave my homeland to settle on the Isle of Man if God had not willed it?”
Fiona threw her arms around him, her face radiant. “I love you, Viking. We will have a happy life on Man. It has been promised to me by Brann.”
“I love you, witch,” he returned affectionately. “I have always loved you. The first moment I saw you I was enchanted. I’ll never let you go. You’ll have to suffer my company until death parts us.”
Fiona gave a squeal of surprise when he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the bedchamber they had been sharing. He slammed the door with his foot and let her slide down his hard body until her feet touched the floor. Then he undressed her slowly, with great relish.
“ ’Tis the middle of the day,” Fiona said, blushing. “What will everyone think?”
“That I want my wife and can’t wait for the dark of night to have her. Will you say me nay, wife?”
“I will never deny you,” Fiona vowed as she removed the brooch from his tunic and let the fabric slide down his body. “I want you, Thorne the Relentless. With all my heart.”
Together they fell upon their bed of furs, arms and legs entwined, hearts beating as one. They were
both ready, both eager to consummate their love. Fiona opened her legs and Thorne moved between them. His hand drifted to her sweetly moist flesh, to ready her for his entrance. He groaned and shuddered when she drenched his hand with her sweet essence. With a cry of pure, gut-wrenching pleasure, he thrust into her.
He loved her tenderly, fiercely, possessively. He brought her to the brink of madness, then let her float back to reality at her own pace. Then he loved her again. When they attained that blissful place of unbearable splendor together, she screamed a single word.
“Viking!”
Isle of Man, two years later
Not even a gull’s cry broke the predawn silence that lazy summer morning. No one was on hand to see the small fleet of dragon ships float ashore below the village. No one greeted the weary travelers as they disembarked and trudged upward along the winding path to the village.
Fiona arose early that morning, her heart soaring with joy as she stepped outside and viewed the verdant green hills and boundless richness of her land. She’d been home for two years now, and each day she shared with her beloved Viking was blessed with happiness. She’d returned to Man to find her father alive and well and her people prospering under Viking rule.
The tenuous peace between her father and Thorne had developed into a lasting friendship. It wasn’t long before Adair had learned to appreciate his Viking son-in-law for his stalwart character and courage. The birth of her first son had cemented the bond between her people and their Viking conquerors. Fiona had been pregnant when she stepped ashore on Man, and bore her son, Brann, five months later. Just four months ago she had presented Thorne with another son, Bret.
The land Thorne had claimed was fertile and rich, and if he missed going a-Viking it wasn’t apparent. Occasionally he journeyed to other lands for the purpose of trade, but he rarely stayed away long.
Fiona’s introspection came to a halt when she spied Thorne coming from the barn. She walked out to meet him.
“You’re up early this morning,” Thorne said, giving her an enthusiastic kiss.
“I love this time of morning. I just fed Bret and put him back to bed. Brann is still sleeping. Are your chores done?”
He gave her a cheeky grin. “Ready to go back to bed, are you? Do we have time?”
She sent him a seductive smile. “There’s always time, but not this morning. You’ve a surprise waiting for you, Viking, and I wanted to warn you.”
His grin faded. “Surprise? You know I dislike surprises.”
“You’ll like this one.”
Thorne blanched. “You’ve had a vision. I don’t
think I’ll ever grow accustomed to that Celtic part of you that can see things.”
“Walk down to the beach with me.”
“What’s gotten into you, woman? There are chores … the children …”
“The servants are capable of taking care of things here. We won’t be gone long, I promise.”
“How can I deny you anything, love? Very well, take me where you will.”
They met the landing party at the top of the hill. At first Thorne thought their sanctuary had been breached and he reached for his sword, realizing too late that he hadn’t donned it this morning. He rarely did anymore.
He thrust Fiona behind him, then relaxed somewhat but didn’t let down his guard when he saw there were women and children in the group. He was more than a little surprised when one of the women in the party saw Fiona and screamed out her name. Fiona stepped around her husband’s bulk and raced to meet her.
Rika!
Thorne watched in growing astonishment as he recognized his brother and nearly all the warriors he’d left behind in his homeland. He caught up with Fiona and Rika where they stood in the path, hugging one another fiercely.
“Is this the surprise?” Thorne wanted to know.
“Aye, is it not wonderful?”
Then Thorolf was beside him, nearly knocking him over as they slapped backs and gripped arms.
“Am I welcome on your island, brother?” Thorolf asked.
“More than welcome, Thorolf. What brings you here?”
“We’ve come to settle,” Thorolf explained. “Eric the Red has invaded us twice since you left, driving off our livestock and burning our buildings. I grow tired of the constant struggle to protect my land. After each attack Rika reminded me of the peaceful land beyond the sea that Fiona had described to her, and she expressed her desire to settle in a place where battling neighbors is not a way of life. Rika and the twins mean more to me than land.”
“Twins? You have twins?” Thorne asked. “Fiona and I have two healthy sons.”
Rika dragged forth two giggling toddlers. “Their names are Olaf and Olga, and a livelier pair of scamps you’ll never see.”
“They’ll be playmates for our own two little ones,” Thorne said. “Welcome to my home, brother. Fiona did not exaggerate, there is ample land and a peaceful existence for all on our little isle. Tomorrow you and Rika can choose the land you want to settle on. I am a Christian now,” he said proudly, “but we are tolerant of all religions.”
The day was one to remember. They talked for hours, catching up on one another’s lives. It wasn’t until they had run out of words and were settled in their beds that Thorne turned to Fiona and asked, “What kind of enchantment did you perform to bring Thorolf and his family here?”
“You’re the only man I’ve ever enchanted,” she teased.
“Promise you’ll use your powers on no one but me, love.”
“No one but you, Viking. Forever.”
Connie is the bestselling author of 60 books and novellas and counting. Her tales of passion and adventure are set in exotic as well as in American locales. Connie has won awards from Romantic Times and has been listed in Who’s Who of American Women for several years. Connie makes her home in Tarpon Springs, Florida.
Connie is a world traveler. She has visited every country in Western and Eastern Europe, Greece, Asia and Northern Africa. Also, countless islands in the Mediterranean and Caribbean Seas. Connie enjoys spending time with her three children, nine grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. Visit her Website and
www.conniemason.com
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