Page 20 of The Very Virile Viking

"Magnus is going to be the new star of The Vikings . I hope," Darrell interjected.

"She is an angel who does not want to be called an angel, and you want me to be a star. Are you sure I am not dead?"

Really, this language-miscommunication game of his was getting tired already.

"And Magnus, this is Angela Abruzzi, a Hollywood realtor and possible business partner of mine."

Angela liked that last part, and she extended her hand toward the tree. No need to be impolite. "How do you do?"

At first he just stared at her hand. Then, seeming to come to some sudden comprehension, he took her hand in his huge one and squeezed tightly as if he would not ever let her go.

"How do you do?" she repeated.

"I do fine," he answered in his gruff, accented voice. Then he smiled at her… a slow, purely male smile that was so sexy she felt her knees begin to buckle. Luckily he was still holding her hand, or she might have fallen. It must be hormones , she thought. How else to explain her lust-laden reaction to a man she didn't even like? Maybe I'm turning into a bimbo… a desperate single woman dying for the first man I meet . "I do not suppose that you live on a farm, do you?"

A farm? Where did that come from? "No, I live in a condo in Century City. Do you live on a farm?"

He nodded. "Dost bother you?"

"Dost… does what bother me?"

"That I am a farmer. Well, betimes I am a warrior, too, but mostly I am a simple farmer." The brute was still holding on to her hand.

I am beginning to think there is nothing simple about you, Mr. Tree. She was still fluttering inside at his mere touch. Bimbo, bimbo, bimbo. Next I'll be humming the theme song of "Sex and the City." Is there a theme song ? Aaarrgh ! She cocked her head in confusion. "Why should your being a farmer bother me?" She tugged on her hand, but he wouldn't release it.

The little girl in his other arm reached out a hand to her, too, imitating her father's action, and said cheerily, "Goo." The tree finally released Angela's hand.

Angela felt a peculiar distress at that loss of contact, but then she smiled at the sweet thing and shook her tiny hand. "How do you do, munchkin? Aren't you the prettiest thing?"

"Goo!" the toddler said, flashing her a drooly grin.

"Her name is Lida," Magnus pointed out. "Not MunchKin."

Angela looked at the big man to see if he thought she had seriously believed the baby's name was

Munchkin. He had. Holy moley, he was a good actor.

"And these are my other children," the tree said. Starting with the oldest, he pointed and called out their names: "Torolf, Kirsten, Dagny, Storvald, Njal, Jogeir, Hamr, and Kolbein." The last one, about three years old, was holding on to the man's thigh as if he would never let go.

"You have nine children?" she asked with amazement.

"Actually I have eleven living children. Two of them stayed behind in the Norselands. And two of them passed on at a young age… Ivan drowned and Lisa died soon after birth."

"Thirteen children!" She had to force her slack jaw shut. Is he for real? No, of course not. He is an actor. This is all a script to him… make-believe .

"I do not think she is impressed," the teenage boy said to his father. "Mayhap you should tell her of your expertise ."

She had no idea what response the tree gave, because Darrell called her aside, telling the big guy that they would be right back and not to move.

"Angela, I need your help with The Viking ," Darrell said right off.

"Me?" she squeaked out.

He nodded quickly. "He's perfect for the part, but I can't let the press get a whiff of him till my lawyers release me from the contract with Dirk."

And, in Angela's opinion, to make sure that Magnus didn't know how desperate Darrell was and demand more money for the part the tree so clearly wanted. "So? What has this to do with me?"

"Take him and his brood home with you," he said bluntly.