Page 22 of Truly, Madly Viking

"Uh... well, yes. Of course." Oh, good heavens! My tongue has developed a mind of its own.

He seemed to consider her faltering words, the whole time staring at her with those luminous gray eyes.

Finally he said, "Agreed."

"Agreed? What does that mean?" she practically shrieked.

He arched an eyebrow at the panic in her voice. "I agree to give kisses, and you agree to give... well, some things I want—nay, need."

Like what? she desperately wanted to ask. Luckily her good sense returned, and she bridled her tongue.

Enough was enough on this dangerous subject. "I am not in need of a love slave, thank you very much.

We should get back to the subject at hand the client interview."

"Is that what this is? An interview?" He frowned. "By the by, m'lady Muck-bride, are you married?"

She shook her head in confusion. What had her marital status to do with anything? Oh. He must be worried about potential conflicts with another man in the event she agreed to the loveslave business...

which would be when hell froze oven. "No, I'm not married."

"I thought not. No offense, m'lady, but wedlock will not be part of our loveslave agreement."

It took a moment before her fuzzy brain absorbed the fact that he was declining a marriage proposal from her. "You... you..." she sputtered.

"Am I dead?" he asked suddenly.

"Wh-what?" Now that question really surprised her. "Why would you ask a question like that?"

"Well, the anchor of my longship got tangled in the seas somewhere beyond Iceland, and—"

"Iceland!" she exclaimed. "Joe, you are apparently lost."

He frowned. "Why do you address me as Joe?"

"Because you told me your name was Joe Rand. Oh... do you mean that I'm being too familiar? Do you prefer I call you Mr. Rand?"

"Nay, I prefer that you address me by my real name. Johr-rund," he sounded out for her "Jorund Ericsson."

She put a hand over her mouth to hide a smile at her mistake. "Jorund. What an unusual name! But nice... very nice! I think I'll just call you by your nickname, though Joe."

"Joe the Viking?" He pursed his lips pensively. "Somehow it does not have the same luster as Jorund the Viking, or Jorund the Warrior." Then he flashed her an irresistible grin.

She grinned back at him.

"I know I was—am—lost," he confessed. "But it was that damned Thora who caused me to end up here."

"Thora?" For some reason, the thought of Joe being with a woman caused her stomach to clench. No, no, no. She couldn't allow herself to become involved with a patient. Besides, for all she knew, he might be married. "Is Thora your wife?" she asked with as much nonchalance as she could muster.

"Do you make mock of me?"

She took that for a no. Whew! "Your lover?"

He snorted with disgust. "Thora is a killer whale."

"Thora... a killer whale? You named a killer whale?"

"I did. Well, actually, my bother Magnus and my sailors did. And, if you must know, Thora is the most irritating animal this side of the Baltic. And she has bad breath, too."