Loving on Borrowed Time - Lovers Leap 1 Read online

  “Put me down!” she demanded, pounding on his back with both fists. She was speaking Norse. Norse? How did she know Norse? She knew a bit of ancient Egyptian, but...

  He patted her bare bottom. “Watch the kidneys,” he said under his breath.

  “Eirick, you’ve got yourself a feisty one there,” one of the Vikings called to Reece.

  Eirick?

  “Aye, but a comely wench,” Reece said in perfect Norse.

  “I said put me down!” Lara demanded, flailing her legs wildly. She still spoke Norse, but wasn’t sure how it was possible.

  “You don’t have to overdo the acting, sweetheart,” Reece said quietly in English, emitting a pained gasp when her toe connected with God-knows-what.

  “Who’s acting?” she cried. “Put me down, right now!”

  “If she’s a too much for yeh, I’ll calm her right down,” one of the Vikings said, he grabbed a hand full of Lara’s hair and forced her head back so he could look at her. “She is a comely wench.” The pins holding Lara’s deep brown hair in its neat bun came loose and masses of turbulent curls fell free, surrounding her face and partially blocking her vision.

  “This wench is my prize. I’ll enjoy taming this one,” Reece claimed to his Viking compatriots, patting her bare rump again.

  “Let go of my hair!” she demanded of the crude Viking.

  Her eyes widened when he lifted his fist to strike her. Reece caught the man’s wrist. “Don’t damage her looks.”

  “She has it coming. This one needs to learn a bit of respect.”

  “I need something to make my blood hot on cold nights. Her temper will do me good. She’s too scrawny to offer much warmth in my bed. Look at these scrawny thighs.” A hand ran up Lara’s thigh and she squirmed. “Not enough meat on them to keep my hips warm when she’s got those skinny things locked around my back.”

  This drew much appreciative laughter from the other Vikings. Lara’s face flamed. An elbow to Reece’s back alerted him to her dissatisfaction with his boasts.

  “Screw you,” she said between clenched teeth.

  “That can be arranged,” he told her, his free hand sliding down the back of her naked thigh now. Since her view was of the boots of various Vikings surrounding them, she could only imagine the devilish grin gracing Reece’s handsome features at the moment. “Now, be good.”

  “Me?” she sputtered. “You’re the one—”

  “Saving you from a brutal, gang rape,” he whispered.

  He was probably right. For now, she would cooperate, but when she got him alone, she would be sure to voice her protests. And viciously.

  “I’d better get some clothing on this wench. Wouldn’t want anything important to freeze off,” Reece claimed. He turned and stalked off towards the nearest home that was not burning. “Men, load the loot and ready the long boat. We’ll set sail for home before midday.”

  There was a loud call of agreement among the men and the sounds of them going about their duties.

  “So you are their leader?” Lara questioned, trying not to concentrate on the repetitive stroking of Reece’s hand up and down the back of her thigh. She was too angry to be turned on. Much too angry. Plus his shoulder was cutting into her ribcage. She was much too uncomfortable and cold for the flesh between her thighs to be swelling. Growing damp. Achy. This was not the time to be imagining him naked in her arms, thrusting steadily into her eager body. It was a totally inappropriate time to find herself ignited into a blazing lust by the gentle touch of his hand.

  “Yes, I’m their leader.”

  “How can you tell? Do you have the thoughts of this guy you are posing as?”

  “No, I’m the only one with horns on my helmet.”

  “Ah,” she agreed. “Makes sense.”

  Reece unnecessarily kicked open the door of a small, wooden house and stomped into the structure. “If there is anyone in here, they’d better run away now,” he growled.

  There was a slight movement to the right. A large, orange cat hissed loudly and then raced out of the house. Nothing else stirred. Reece glanced around the one room hut and then closed the door before gently setting Lara on her feet.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “No, I’m not okay!” she sputtered. “What in the hell is going on? How are we here among Vikings? Is this real? Are we stuck here forever? And where did you get that amulet? Is that how we got here? Are we in the past? Is this a dream? How can I speak Norse? I don’t know Norse. Do you know Norse?”

  He placed two fingers on her lips. “One question at a time,” he said. He scowled. “Even your lips are cold. You must be freezing.”

  Actually, she was rather cold.

  He cupped her cheek and gazed down at her. Her heart thudded hard against her ribs. That blazing lust thing was warming certain parts of her body quite well actually.

  “Let me warm those up for you.”

  He lowered his head and brushed his warm lips against her chilled ones. For her, this was their first kiss, but he obviously knew her well. He showed no hesitation at all as his suckled her upper lip and brushed her lower with the tip of his tongue. He drew her against him, his hands sliding down her naked back. Her excitement-and/or-cold-hardened nipples pressed into his hard chest. Wait a minute. She didn’t even know this guy. And she was rubbing her naked breasts all over him. And opening her mouth so he could tease her tongue with his. And relaxing her stance so he could slip his thigh between her legs. And why exactly did it feel so right to lose herself in his arms? In his kiss? Whatever caused his insanity was obviously infectious.

  She turned her head, separating their mouths. Damn her sensibility anyway.

  He ran his thumb over her lips. “Warmer now?”

  Warm? She was on fire. She nodded slightly.

  “Good. We’ll pick this up later. Somewhere a little less pillage and burn.”

  She should have protested that “pick this up later” comment. Should have, but didn’t. She was thinking he could press her up against the wall and have his way with her and she’d be perfectly okay with that. She touched her flaming cheeks with cool fingertips. Easy girl. No matter how hot Reece was or who he claimed to be, she didn’t go having sex with some guy she met half an hour ago. At least, she shouldn’t.

  “I love you,” he murmured.

  He loved her? Oh no, no, no, no, no, no.

  “Sorry. You’re probably not ready to hear that yet,” he said quietly.

  She stared up at him, feeling a bit woozy and light-headed. “Are we really engaged in the future?”

  He smiled gently. “Yeah. We need to get some clothes on that gorgeous body of yours, so I can better control myself.” He turned and glanced around the modest hut. He approached a collection of clothes hanging from hooks on the wall, selected a garment, and tossed it to her. She caught it, sniffed it, and made a face.

  “It doesn’t smell very clean.” Understatement. It smelled like cat piss.

  He grinned at her. “Well, next dry cleaners we happen upon, we’ll stop and have it cleaned for you.”

  She huffed. “Thanks. That would be appreciated.”

  She struggled into the garment, pulling it on over her head and writhing about like a big snake in a small sock, until the dress slid into place. It was at least three sizes too small. She suspected it was a child’s dress. It sure wasn’t designed for a woman with curves.

  “And you said I was scrawny,” she said, glancing down at the bodice of the gown. She adjusted her breasts into a more comfortable position and they threatened to spill out of the top.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  She glanced up from the constrictive, smelly dress and her breath caught. The smoldering look transfixed to Reece’s handsome face made her weak in the knees. She licked her lips self-consciously and ran her hands over her temperamental hair.

  “You do look a tad uncomfortable though,” he said, eyes trained on the sleeves of the dress cutting into her upper arms. The sleeves were so
tight, she couldn’t even lower her arms completely. He chuckled. “We’ll see if there is something else you can wear. It looked like it would fit.”

  She wasn’t sure if she should take that as a compliment or an insult.

  Reece turned back to the hooks of clothes and she lowered her eyes to her feet. They were so cold she couldn’t feel them, yet she was wishing Reece was still looking at her instead of finding her something to wear.

  “There’s this,” he said. “It’s sure to keep my desire at bay.”

  He held up a huge shirt, obviously intended for a man—a mountain of a man. She was certain it wouldn’t be flattering, but in front of those Vikings, the last thing she wanted to do was show off her assets. She’d already unwillingly showed off her ass.

  “That’s fine, Reece,” she said quietly. “Will you answer my questions now?”

  He strode across the room and handed the shirt to her. “A few. But we should hurry. Wouldn’t want my underlings thinking I have a soft spot for a wench.”

  “And why do I have to be a wench?” she asked, fisted hand on either hip, mostly because she couldn’t straighten her arms, but she knew she looked angry in this pose. “Why can’t I be a fair maiden?” She tossed her head, sending her curls dancing about her head.

  He chuckled. “I think you’re a tad too saucy to be a maiden.”

  “So now I’m a saucy wench?”

  She glanced up at him to find him staring at the mounds of her breasts.

  “Should I have a plastic surgeon move my eyes to my chest?” she asked.

  He laughed and looked up into her eyes. “That would be rather convenient.”

  She bit her lip, trying not to laugh. If she wasn’t careful, he was going to figure out that she was all talk. She drew the enormous shirt over her head, and struggled to remove the too small dress underneath.

  “You’ve made quite a mess of things,” he said. “I could turn my back if you are feeling shy.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be feeling shy? I’ve known you for scarcely an hour and you’ve… you’ve...” Memories of his touch, his kiss instantly warmed her cheeks. “Just turn around!”

  “Getting you to fall for me again will be fun,” he said. “It was none too easy the first time. Good thing I like a challenge.” He laughed at some memory he shared with future-her. Now, there was a weird thought.

  “I can’t imagine why,” she said sarcastically. “Did you manhandle me within the first thirty minutes of meeting me the first time?” She pulled off the large shirt and struggled out of the little dress.

  “No. You scared the hell out of me.”

  “Smart guy.”

  “It took me several months to find that blazing hot, sensual woman beneath the conservative outer shell. And boy was she worth the wait.” He whistled long and loud.

  Hot, sensual woman? He obviously was making stuff up. Poking fun at her. What a jerk! “I guess you’re not so smart after all.”

  He laughed harder. “Ah, Lara, you can’t begin to realize how much I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too. Who are you again?”

  “I’m Eirick, king of the Vikings.”

  She finally got the dress off and hurriedly tossed on the men’s shirt. It fell to mid-thigh and was better than being nude, but not much.

  “Vikings don’t have kings. They have chieftains,” she told him and brushed past him as she approached the clothes on the hooks. Now that her wits were settling into place, she was much happier to fend for herself than to rely on him for assistance.

  “Maybe I’m the first.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. He was staring at her bare legs. “Caught again,” she said.

  His eyes moved to her face. “I’m trying to contain myself.” Their eyes locked. “I’m not doing a very good job. It’s been eight months since I last saw you.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, it’s been never.”

  “I know.” He sighed heavily. “We’d better hurry and get back to the men.”

  “Are there any shoes around here?” she asked, finding a worn pair of trousers. She slipped into them and was immediately engulfed by the pants. Reece could have fit in these pants with her. Belly to belly. Thigh to thigh. Mound to… She blew out a breath to clear her thoughts. You’d think the impending doom and gloom would cool her desire, but no. Damn the man for unsettling her so. Lara looked around for a belt, while Reece hunted for some potential footwear. She found a length of rope and cinched it around her waist, before rolling up the trousers several times at the ankles. The shoes he found were a bit small, but she could handle the pinched toes if she didn’t have to walk barefoot through snow.

  “Let’s go,” Reece said.

  “Wait, you haven’t answered any of my questions yet.”

  He sighed impatiently. “One,” he bargained, “and then we go.”

  She nodded. “Are we stuck here permanently?”

  He shook his head, “As soon as Carl catches up with us, we can leap again.”

  “And how long will that be?” she asked, listening for sounds of humming coming from his amulet. It remained silent.

  “Usually around three days, give or take. And that was two questions,” he said. “Are you ready?”

  “How do I look?”

  He gave her the once over. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m picturing you naked.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Are you sure future-me agreed to marry you?”

  “I think you only wanted me for my body.” He struck a ridiculous super model pose with one hand behind his head and his hip jutted forward in her direction, and then winked at her.

  She laughed. “Well, it couldn’t have been for your lame sense of humor.” Though she seemed to be laughing quite a lot. Considering their situation, she was surprised she wasn’t huddled in fetal position, quaking in fear, and sobbing with remorse.

  He crossed the room and opened the front door, holding it open for her. “Let’s go, saucy wench. I have Vikings to lead. Villages to pillage.”

  “Saucy wenches to tame,” she added as she passed him.

  “Now, why would I want a tame one?” he asked and swatted her on the rear.

  She glared at him, but he just grinned. The man was enjoying himself far too much. And despite all her protests, she’d like to enjoy him a little more.

  Chapter 3

  There were seven women, in addition to Lara, tied back to back in pairs, sitting on the bottom of the long boat. Reece had taken it upon himself to tie her up, telling her to pretend she was tightly bound. Her ropes were loose enough for her to pull free, but their ruse had to be believable. She allowed the curtain of her ever bothersome curly hair to shield her face so she could watch the Vikings, in particular the fake Viking standing at the prow of the boat who claimed to know her in the future. The oars sloshed in the water rhythmically as they navigated the coast of some frigid land. Lara suspected it to be Norway, but she couldn’t be sure.

  The woman tied to Lara’s back was crying softly. Another woman leaned against the distraught woman to try to bring her comfort. She murmured words of encouragement beneath the bawdy singing and rhythmic rowing of the Viking warriors. Lara didn’t doubt the captives had lost husbands that day and likely would never see their children again. She began to formulate a plan of escape for all of them. Lara knew they would have to wait until they reached shore—no one would survive the frigid waters—but surely, with Reece’s help, they could free these women and allow them to return to what was left of their families.

  The sun had set over an hour ago, and a dense fog hugged the shoreline. The dragon figurehead projected from the prow of the boat and sliced through the night like a monster of nightmares. Lara sniffed her frozen nose and wished she had the use of her hands to warm the tips of her ears. She was shivering, her teeth chattering together like a windup novelty toy. The baggie clothes she wore allowed for a somewhat insulated layer of air above her skin, and the woman to her right shared
some body heat, but Lara could not remember ever being so cold. The hard deck beneath her provided no comfort, and her back ached from being in such an uncomfortable position for over a dozen hours.

  The warrior standing beside Reece at the prow, suddenly shouted, “Lift your oars!”

  The oars lifted out of the water in semi-unison and the boat slowed. Several ropes were tossed overboard.

  “Pull her in!”

  Splashing could be heard in the water near the head of the boat and the vessel began to move forward slowly, until it scraped across land and came to a complete stop.

  “Put the slaves to work,” one of the lead Vikings called to the crew.

  The captives were untied from each other and hauled to their feet. A few of the women cried out in protest but were quickly silenced with a backhand across the face. Though her legs were cramping as if she’d run a marathon, Lara climbed to her feet without assistance, and obediently took the heavy sack someone handed her and passed it to the next person in the chain as they unloaded the boat assembly-line fashion.

  Once the stolen goods were safely on shore, the human cargo was unceremoniously tossed overboard. The largest of the warriors caught the frightened women and rather than setting them down, handed them off to other men who carried them towards the fiery lights in the distance.

  Lara tensed when it was her turn to be hefted overboard. The big warrior on the ground caught her easily and started to hand her off to some Viking she did not recognize. Before she could protest, a familiar voice sounded in the dim light given off by torches.

  “That one is mine. Take her to my quarters and don’t mess her up. Leave that to me.”

  Lara knew it was part of Reece’s ruse, but she couldn’t stop the thread of fear winding itself around her heart, giving her an unsettled, panicky feeling in her stomach. The warrior started forward, carrying Lara away from the security Reece offered to the unknown of the settlement in the distance. She felt some of the terror the other women must be feeling. At least, she would be leaving this brutal world soon. The other slaves had the rest of their lives to spend here. She had to help them escape somehow. The warrior carrying her copped a feel, but she was too terrified to protest and pretended he was accidentally squeezing her breast like a ripe melon. You didn’t mess with a burly, bearded guy carrying an ax. Nope, wasn’t going to happen.