Rough and Ready (29 page)

He put a hand to her nape, under all that glorious hair, and pushed her face against his shoulder. "Your hair smells nice. Apples?"

"Yea, and the soap I used was peach scented. Is that not amazing? Is this country not amazing?"

"You're a regular fruit salad, honey."

She babbled on then about how she would have to teach Effa how to add fruit and flower scents to her soaps when she returned to The Sanctuary and how they needed sanctuaries in this country, too. Then she moved on to blow dryers, zippers, and transparent hose. He only half listened, too intent on relishing the feel of her body in his embrace. Finally, she noticed his silence. "Is something wrong?" she asked, her breath tickling his ear.

Sweet ripples of pleasure swept over him from his ear to his groin. "Yeah, something's wrong." He inhaled deeply, for courage. He was about to say something he shouldn't, and it was going to take a helluva lot of nerve. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

"You cannot… I mean, it is nice to know… but I will be leaving here soon."

Nice? My telling her that I might love her is nice? I think I'll go in the corner and suck my thumb. "I know you're leaving eventually. Just thought you ought to know. A little secret you can take back to the Norselands with you.

You

can gloat that some dumb schmuck, the lout, fell hard for you."

She was silent then as they swayed from side to side to the music. Later, he wouldn't be able to say if they were the only couple on the dance floor or one of dozens. Just when he thought she was going to kill him with her silence, she spoke up, "I would not gloat. In truth, it would be impossible for me to do so, in good conscience."

"Why is that, heartling?" Holy shit! Did I really say heartling? I must be regressing to my Viking past.

She kissed his neck and whispered, "Because I think I am falling in love with you, too."

Wham, bam, a shot to his already shaky heart.

That was for sure the final nail in Torolf's coffin.

The three words that scare all men, even SEALs…

Hilda could tell that she stunned Torolf with her revelation. Well, he'd stunned her, too.

Somewhere between being blistering mad and planning to flirt with every male at the party, and seeing Torolf standing on the other side of the room, looking as handsome as all the gods, she realized something important. She loved the lout.

How did it happen? When did it happen? Was it the first time I saw him after all those years, back on the shipwreck? Was it when he first taught me what bedsport could be? Was it when he rid the Norselands of Steinolf? Was it when he rescued me here in this new land?

"Why are there tears in your eyes?" Torolf asked her, tipping her chin up with a forefinger.

"This is an immense revelation to me."

"That I love you?"

She noticed that he no longer said that he "thought" he loved her. Now it was a fact.

"Nay, that I love you."

The band was playing some loud, raucous music about "jam-ball-eye-ah" and people were doing faster dances with hips shaking and arms flailing, except for Cage, who was doing a very fancy dance involving intricate, sexual moves, with Linda, both of them laughing and singing at the same time. She and Torolf were just standing still. She had no idea how long they had been standing thus, arms looped around each other loosely, staring into each other's face.

"You are so unhappy about loving me that you weep?"

"Nay. 'Tis just that I have ne'er been in love afore. And it frightens and exhilarates me at the same time." She shrugged. "I am confused."

"I like the exhilarated part," he said, winking at her. He had a very nice wink, one that made her tingle all over.

Before she knew it, she and Torolf were sitting at a back table near the wall, she with a glass of clear wine, a novelty for her, and he with a glass of mead.

"I still do not want you to touch me," she told him, looking pointedly at his one arm resting casually over her shoulders.

"You've got to be kidding. No, no, no! You can't tell a guy that you love him and then put up a Do Not Touch sign."

"You know this from experience?"

"No. I've never been in love before, Hildy. Let's get that straight from the start. And if you think you're frightened by this, it's nothing compared to how I feel."

She smiled. "I thought Navy SEALs were afraid of nothing."

"You thought wrong," he said. "Fear is our friend."

"Is that another of those lackwit sayings of yours?"

"Yep." He leaned forward and lightly kissed her lips. "Strawberry kisses. Is there anything better?" Then he smiled back at her.

Her heart nigh galloped at that warm smile, and she feared that everyone could look at her and see the effect Torolf had on her.

"Back to that no touching business, I give you fair warning. I intend to touch you a lot tonight. I can't wait to see what it's like to have sex with a woman I love."

"I am trying to be sensible here, Torolf. Are you asking me to stay here in the future with you?"

A red bloom suffused his face and even his ears.

She laughed. "Oh, do not run scared, rogue. I know you were not asking that.

But

can you not see then why our lovemaking would be a mistake? I must go back to The Sanctuary. I am needed there. It is a time and culture I know."

"Your point being?"

"I do not want to make my departure harder than it will be already. Loving you and leaving will be difficult enough."

He was peeling the paper label off his bottle of mead with the thumb of his free hand as he pondered her words.

"Dost agree with me? You will halt your touching?"

He looked up from his paper peeling and grinned at her. "Hell, no. You're right; we're on a fast track to heartbreak. God, I can't believe I said such a hokey thing. But while you're here, I'll probably do everything to convince you to make love."

She shook her head at his hopelessness. Always a rogue.

"Sometimes you just gotta live in the moment. The work I do—hell, I could die any time I go out on an op, it's an occupational hazard—so I gotta think that we should grab whatever happiness we can when we can. Besides, you can't buy body paint for a guy and then put up a red light."

Her brow furrowed with puzzlement.

"That chocolate body paint you bought for me. And, by the way, that was a great gift. If I didn't say thank you before, I intend to later… with my tongue.

Yum-yum!"

"You speak in riddles. I bought you paint?"

He explained what body paint was, and with each word, her jaw dropped lower and lower.

"Oh good gods! No wonder your friends were so amused."

"Hey, forget amused. They were jealous."

Said friends came to the table then, along with her new female friends. They were laughing and carrying drinks with them. Apparently, the band was taking a break, and the meal was about to be served.

Geek seemed to have developed an affection for Jolene, which could be dangerous, considering her husband.

She murmured to Torolf, "Geek best be careful. Jolene is married, and her husband beats her."

Torolf's head jerked to attention. "How do you know that… about the beatings?"

"Because she told me and because… well, look at her. Can't you see the bruises under the face lotion?"

He nodded slowly.

"Dost think you could kill her husband?"

"Whaaat?"

"He is a nasty, vicious man who will not allow her to leave. Whene'er she has tried, he brings her back and beats her more."

"Hilda, you shouldn't be getting involved."

"Why not?"

"Because this type of jerk would come after you, too."

She shrugged. "Mayhap. But someone has to help her. Methinks that whilst you are gone aViking or a-fighting or whatever it is you SEALs do, I will form my own sanctuary here for troubled women like Jolene."

He groaned. "Hilda, you are supposed to lay low here, not draw attention to yourself. In fact, I've been thinking about sending you to stay with Ragnor and Alison."

"You said it would be best if your family was not involved, lest the sign-tiss try to dice-section them, too."

"I know, but I'm beginning to think leaving you here alone would be a bad idea, even if I ask Spike to watch out for you, or have you stay in his trailer with him and Serenity."

"Is it because you love me now and you did not afore?"

He smiled. "Maybe."

"Well, I do not want to stay with your brother and his wife unless I must. I like these people here."

"All right. For now. I'll give you Ragnor's telephone number, though, and at the least sign of trouble, you call him."

She nodded.

Looking around the table, she noticed that only Pretty Boy sat alone, brooding into his beer. It had to be by choice, because a number of women kept staring in his direction.

"What's up, Pretty Boy?" Torolf asked his friend.

"I'm thinkin' 'bout goin' back to Coronado tonight."

"Why? Heavy date?"

"Nah. I'm just tired."

Torolf and his buddies exchanged glances, then Torolf told her in an undertone, "We think he's missing Britta."

Over the next hour, they ate their meal and drank their beverages and sang Happy Birthing Day to Spike and watched the dancers once the band played again.

"Do you know what I want to do with you when we leave here?" Torolf asked in a silky-smooth voice.

"Shhh! Behave," she hissed at him.

"First, I'll strip you naked, real slow. Then I'll paint you with chocolate and lick it off from your forehead to your toes."

She gaped at him and wanted to protest his sinful words, but the mind picture robbed her of speech.

"Then I will flip you over and do your back side."

She shouldn't encourage the man, but she wanted to know, "I am a big person.

Can

you eat that much chocolate?"

"I'm damn sure gonna try."

"It could be messy."

"I hope so."

"Do not think that we would take a shower together to wash it off and then have sex in front of the mirror again."

"Oh, yeah, go ahead. Give me ideas."

"And there will definitely be no cunning-tingles."

Cunnilingus? Chocolate cunnilingus? Have mercy! The ideas you plant in my…

head!

"Hilda, Hilda, Hilda. You are going to be the death of me yet."

"Nay, naught of which you speak will happen, because there will be no touching."

That is what she said, but what she thought was, I wonder if I have a taste for chocolate, too.

Aliens and chocolate and Victoria's Secret, oh, my!…

All of Torolf's grand plans for seducing Hilda came to a screeching halt when they got back to the trailer.

He had just unlocked the door and stepped inside behind Hilda, when his cell phone rang. It was Slick.

At first, his brain didn't comprehend what Slick was saying, because Hilda was on the other side of the small room, which was ungodly hot, having been closed up while they were gone. She was taking off the white shirt, giving him his first full-blown view of the black bustier. He already knew she had pretty breasts. This wisp of male testosterone torture announced it to the world by pushing them up into a reallive cleavage. Who knew? Good thing she hadn't taken off the shirt at the birthday bash. He would have had to beat guys away with a stick.

"Are you listening?" Slick asked with exasperation.

"Huh?"

"Is Hilda there with you? Am I interrupting something? Not that I care a rat's ass. But I can tell your mind is elsewhere."

Yeah, like smack-dab in the middle of bare skin and chocolate paint. "What's the deal? Make it quick."

Slick chuckled. "Turn on your laptop and look at the downloads I'm sending.

Do

it now while I'm still on the line."

He put his hand over the phone and told Hilda, "Give me a sec, hon. I need to check something out for Slick."

She nodded and turned to go down the hall.

"Don't get naked, though. I want to do that for you."

"No touching," she answered without turning back.

Was she kidding or just teasing? Either way, there was hot-damn sure gonna be touching. He could guarantee that.

Once he had the laptop booted up and Slick's e-mail opened, he downloaded the first of the files. It was a picture of a middle-aged man, probably late forties with red hair and a receding hairline, which he had combed over. "I've got it."

"That's Richard Phillips, a lab technician at Holy Cross Hospital in Malibu.

Get

this. He's taken a two-week vacation."

Torolf didn't need to be told what that meant. "The jerk is out to get Hilda."

"Yep. Is Hilda an alien?"

"Good Lord! No. Do you believe in aliens?"

"Just thought I'd ask. Something is strange about her."

"I'll tell you later. You won't believe it."

"Try me."

"Is Phillips dangerous?"

"He has a license to carry."

"Is he operating alone?"

"So far, I think he is, under the center's direction, I suppose. The PI I hired thinks these people at the National Center for Alien Research are more than wackos. They believe that the world is on the fast track to self-annihilation, and the answer to saving it lies with alien nations. They also claim to have met aliens in the past, some of whom have taken earthlings captive. But this will be the first alien in captivity that they can study. And I mean, study… like dissection, autopsy, and a whole lot of other unsavory crap."

"The other files I've sent are in the attachment… mostly stuff about the center and its chairman, a real dingbat… except he's a dingbat with a Ph.D. Read them over, then let me know what you want me to do as a follow-up."

"Oh, man! This guy's timing really stinks."

"About to get lucky, are you, Max?" Slick guessed.

"Real lucky."

"I heard about the chocolate body paint."

"Damn! Are there any secrets in this team?"

"Hey, some of us live vicariously."

"Yeah, right. What I meant about timing is our team going rough and ready.