Michelle Styles - Taming His Viking Woman

‘These words are supposed to act as your guarantee?’ He inclined his head. ‘Forgive me if I require more.’

‘Snaking out your foot to trip me was unworthy.’ Her mouth turned mulish, but he could see the latent hint of passion in it.

‘There was nothing in the rules, my lady, against tripping. I saw an opportunity and took it.’

‘The only reason you challenged me was to prove a point. You are the better warrior than I am. Well, you’ve proved that. You can have the land you require.’

Hrolf watched her mouth. The exertion of the fight had turned it strawberry ripe and her tunic now clung to her body. His fingers itched to unwrap her. But he refused to give any woman power over him. He’d seen what gibbering wrecks men could become. When he discovered his father’s frozen body on his mother’s grave, Hrolf had vowed never to allow a woman to touch his heart, a sentiment that his uncle had encouraged.

‘Why do you attempt to put words in my mouth?’ he asked in a cold tone. ‘I know what we bargained for. I always claim what is mine by right and I do it in my fashion.’

Her eyes became a blue flame and she pulled her shoulders back. ‘My honour is without question. Do not suggest I would dishonour my oaths again.’

‘Sayrid, I marry a woman, not a man. Find a dress.’

Sayrid stared at him uncomprehending. ‘A dress?’

‘You do own a dress...don’t you?’

Sayrid released a breath and offered a prayer up to all goddesses in the Aesir and Vanir. At last, a way to postpone the evil day with dignity. Hrolf wanted to marry a properly dressed bride. His request made sense given the finery he wore. She could use it, buy time and find a solution to the mess. Somehow she’d discover what he truly wanted before she started believing that he wanted her. It wasn’t over until the ceremony was done.

‘My best dress is at home. What a pity. We will have to name another day when I can be attired in the sort of clothes fit for a sea king’s bride.’

‘Borrow one.’ A glint showed in his eye as he raked her form. ‘Or come naked. But I marry a woman. Today.’

Renewed anger flooded through her. Why in the name of Freya did he want to marry her? And why did it have to be today?

‘Every other woman is smaller than me by at least a full head.’

His smile became positively merciless. ‘That is not my problem. You do as I command.’

She stood toe to toe with him. ‘Or what?’

‘Or I will have you and anyone who helps declared outlaw and all their lands forfeit as well as yours.’ He bowed low. ‘Your choice, Sayrid Avildottar. Time to decide. Do you actually care about your family and the people who work the land? Or do you just care about yourself?’

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