Page 44 of The Very Virile Viking

Angela held out her cup to be replenished, which prompted Lida to hold up her sippy cup to be refilled, too.

"Where is he now?"

"Everyone had breakfast at seven—not a puny little breakfast like you had, but sausages and bacon and scrambled eggs and corned-beef hash and blueberry waffles. And sides of oatmeal and Frosted Flakes.

Lordy, Lordy, I used three loaves of my homemade bread. Guess I'll have to bake another batch this afternoon—a double batch." Juanita beamed, obviously in cook heaven over all these appreciative mouths at her table. "Anyhow, after they all ate, the older boy, Torolf, and the boy with the limp, Jogeir, went with their father and Miguel to work in the fields. Been gone 'bout two hours now."

"And the rest of them?"

"The two girls and one of the boys went to the mall with your grandma—the boy who was squinting at the food on his plate last night. Grandma thinks he needs glasses. The boy didn't even know what glasses were. Can you imagine that? Magnus gave your grandma a pile of money and told her to buy clothing for him and all his kids. Betcha it was three thousand dollars. Jeans, Tshirts, sneakers… that kind of stuff.

And deodorant. He sure does have a thing about deodorant. Your grandma measured everyone first…

even traced their feet on pieces of paper. I'm surprised you didn't hear ail the giggling down here."

Angela blinked with astonishment at the rambling Juanita.

Juanita took a deep breath, then continued: "The rest of the kids are over by the pond, fishin' and playin'

on that ol' swing. Guess I'll hafta be makin' lunch soon."

Angela couldn't remember seeing Juanita this happy. All because extra work had landed in her lap, and children filled the house. She suspected her grandmother was feeling the same way.

The problem was that they might be getting too accustomed to all this company. She would have to remind them both that Magnus and his children were just visitors. They would be leaving soon.

She would have to remind herself of that fact, too.

Lida smiled up at her and said, "Goo."

It was probably baby talk for "Who are you kidding?"

Juanita was back to shimmying across the kitchen floor while singing "La Vida Loca."

The crazy life, Angela translated mentally. For sure !

The Farmer and the dell…uh, vineyard

The sun was shining brightly overhead when Angela walked the half mile or so to the south fields, where she hoped to find her missing Viking. It was a pleasant stroll through aisle after aisle of "little men with outstretched arms." That was how she'd always viewed the vines when she was a little girl, and the image had stayed with her.

There were two hundred acres on the Blue Dragon's gently rolling hills—a modest size by most vintners'

standards—and a dozen different grapes were planted. When they had been making their own wine, the grapes would have gone into highly prized blends of chardonnays, cabernet sauvignons, sauvignon blancs, pinot noirs, and zinfandels. Now they were sold to another vintner.

The south field was where they grew their sangiovese grapes, an Italian import that could trace its roots all the way back to the Etruscans. Her grandfather had loved this particular grape, though it did not produce their most popular wine. He probably had an affection for it because it originated in his homeland. Or maybe because this grape carried a "fingerprint," which usually meant a hint of cherry or cranberry flavor in its various blends.

"Hi, everyone," she called out when she saw Magnus, Miguel, and the two boys.

Torolf and Jogeir were on their knees in the next aisle, along with several of the dozen full-time workers from the Blue Dragon. They were cluster-thinning the grapes with small curved knives to prevent overcropping. This process would hasten the ripening process and would also prevent a weakening of the vines.

Magnus had been listening intently to something Miguel was explaining to him. His knees were bent so he could be at the manager's level and look through the magnifying glass Miguel was holding up to one of the vines. They were probably searching for any sign of mold or pests. Inspection of the vines was a daily task in any good vineyard.

Magnus looked up at her greeting and straightened to his full, impressive, treelike height. Then he smiled.

And, oh, what a smile it was! There was welcome in it. There was pure male self-confidence. There was innate sensuality. And, more than anything, there was an awareness of the intimacy they had shared the night before. It was a bone-melting, sexy smile, and it was directed right at her.

What woman wouldn't be flattered by that?

He did the most outrageous thing then. He walked up, leaned down, and kissed her lightly on the lips before saying softly, "Good morning to you, m'lady slugabed."