Page 72 of The Viking’s Captive

“ ‘Tis true, my lady. You are a vision of loveliness. Far more lovely than the brightest flower in Drifa’s gardens.” The whole time he spoke, his eyes were nigh plastered to her chest.

“Stop staring at my breasts,” she admonished. ‘Twas best to be blunt with a too-bold man. Set him straight from the start.

Gunter started to choke on his ale.

“You, too, Egil,” she said to the soldier across the table. She took a sip of the strong ale and continued, “Blessed Freyja! You men act as if you’ve never seen a pair of teats afore, and I know good and well that you have. All of you lackwits have been drooling over Inga the chambermaid for years and all because her breasts are the size of cow udders. Never mind that her brain is the size of a pimple.”

Egil started to choke, too.

Just then her gaze wandered to the high dais where Drifa was sitting in a chair next to Adam. They had their heads together, discussing some matter intently. Every so often, he would laugh, or she would giggle. And the whole time, Drifa had a hand laid on his forearm.

Can it be? Is Drifa flirting with my man?

Aaarrgh! Adam is not my man. I have no man. Certainly not Adam.

And the healer… has he now developed an affection for my sister? Has he no morals at all?

A wave of overpowering emotion swept through Tyra. Although she had never felt it before, she recognized it instantly. Jealousy. She wanted to leap over the tables and get to the dais, where her greatest desire was to pummel Adam, the rogue, and to toss Drifa, the flirt, out into one of her flower beds.

Despite her jealousy, Tyra had to admit that Adam and Drifa looked good together. Two beautiful, dark-haired people. He, godly handsome. She, with her exotic appeal.

“If they have dancing tonight, willst thou partner me?”

Tyra turned to Gunter, who’d apparently been talking to her the whole time she had been staring daggers at Adam and her sister. “Why would you want to dance with me?”

“You are a very attractive woman, Tyra. Surely you are aware of that.” He had the nerve then to place his palm on her thigh and squeeze.

“You never thought so before.” She firmly removed his hand from her thigh.

He shrugged and gave her his most winsome smile … the selfsame one she’d seen him giving to Drifa during last summer’s Frigg Festival. Drifa, she thought. Mayhap two people can play at this game. But dare I flirt with a man? Do I even know how to flirt with a man? Well, how hard could it be?

“You have a very nice smile, Gunter.” She leaned in close as she spoke, and batted her eyelashes at him as she’d seen her sisters do. She felt absolutely ridiculous doing so, but the most amazing thing happened. Gunter placed a hand over hers on the table.

“Dost think so?” he asked in a husky voice.

Well, for the love of Valhalla! Is he going husky over me? And what a barmy smile!

“Yea, your smile is bright and … and … big.” Big? Now that is a really half-brained compliment … even for me.

Egil snickered.

Gunter simpered. “There are other parts of me that are big, too,” he answered, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at her.

Does he mean what I think he means? Hah! I know exactly how big IT is. I’ve seen it on more than one occasion while the men bathed in river streams on our journeys. How does one respond to such an outrageous statement?

“Well, aren’t you lucky!”

“Nay, ‘tis my women who are lucky.” He waggled his eyebrows at her some more.

The oaf made the mistake of placing his hand on her thigh again and squeezing.

To reciprocate, she placed her hand on the giant worm lying at rest between his legs and squeezed, really hard.

Gunter’s eyes crossed as he tried to speak but could not.

Really, this flirting business is a lot of botherment.Why can’t people just say what they think? “Do you want to bed with me?” she asked bluntly.

His face went all red and flustered. Apparently his women were not so forthright in their dealings with him. Or perchance he was all red and flustered because of the “caress” she’d given his cock. “Well, yea, I guess I do.”

“Nay.”

“Nay?”

“You heard me. I said nay. Nay, nay, nay! You are behaving very strangely tonight, Gunter. Methinks you ought to see the healer for a tonic.”

Just then she looked up to the dais where the healer had risen from his seat and was glaring at her and Gunter, as if he’d like to leap over the tables and pummel Gunter and toss her … somewhere.

The most outrageous idea came unbidden to her then. Could Adam be jealous of her?

She studied him more carefully, especially when he rose from his seat and began making his way doggedly in her direction. Thinking quickly, she tugged the bodice of her gown lower, leaned slightly forward across the table, and asked Egil, “And how are your male parts?”

Not a bad start for a first lesson in flirtation,Tyra thought, giving herself a mental pat on the back.

And the gurgling sounds Gunter and Egil were making … well, she chose to translate those as compliments … even if only to her bosom.

“What in bloody hell do you think you are doing?” Adam asked when he reached their table. His eyes were plastered on her bosom, too. Really, I am living in a world of lustsome louts.

“Flirting,” she answered honestly. “How about you?”