” ‘Twas a good day’s work today, Vagn,” Gorm said, speaking around Helga, who sat between them.
“Yea,” he agreed, and the two of them discussed the day’s events and what was planned for the morrow, but the whole time Vagn was acutely aware of Helga at his side. Was that rose scent he smelled on her skin and hair today? Or the usual lavender? And, yea, she was regarding him in the most peculiar manner.
Finally, when Gorm turned to address a high-ranking soldier on his other side, Vagn gave his full attention to Helga. “Do that again,” he whispered huskily.
“What?” Her eyes darted here and there. She was obviously not comfortable with this game she played.
“Lick your lips. Slowly.”
She groaned softly, low in her throat. Then she lifted her chin with some sort of resolve. “I’m not wearing any undergarments,” she announced of a sudden.
He choked on his ale. When he regained his composure, he replied, “Neither am I,” and accompanied his words with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“Are you teasing me?” she asked.
“Mayhap. Are you teasing me?”
She did not answer. Instead, she did that lip-lapping thing with her tongue again.
A certain part of his body liked that a lot. He smiled. He could not help himself. “Thank you.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Why?”
“I find it difficult to smile these days. You made me smile.”
“So I am a joke to you. Another jest—just like the one your brother made.” She started to rise from her seat, and tears welled in her eyes.
Putting a hand to her forearm, he forced her back down. “Do not be so testy, wench. ‘Twas a compliment, not an insult.”
She sank back to her seat and let out a long sigh of nervousness.
Something strange was going on here, he thought.
He took a strand of her golden hair between his thumb and forefinger, testing its silkiness.
Under normal circumstances, Helga would have slapped his hand away. Instead, she seemed to steel herself for his touch.
Deciding to test the waters, he let his hand drop lower and caress her arm. Just the backs of his fingers, from shoulder to elbow to wrist. She shivered, as if it were bare flesh he touched, not the fabric of her gown. And it was a good shiver, too… not one of revulsion.
“So you are not wearing undergarments,” he said, softly enough so her father would not overhear, though Gorm was still talking animatedly to someone on his other side.
“I lied.”
“Really? ‘Tis a shame. I like imagining you with nothing underneath.”
“Why?”
“Why? Are you so naive that you do not know the effect a naked woman has on a man?” He glanced pointedly down at his groin.
She blushed but said nothing.
Just as he had thought… something strange was going on with Helga. He downed the remainder of ale in his horn, set it down, then rested his chin in his palm, his elbow braced on the table, and scrutinized her closely. “To be more precise, Helga, you have set my manpart to humming.”
“Hu… humming?” she sputtered.
“Yea—not quite a throb, but certainly not lying still. Humming.”
“That is so crude.”
He shrugged. “Sex is crude.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Would you like me to show you?”
“Nay!” she exclaimed. Then immediately amended it to, “I am not sure.”
Whoa! That was a big, big step for this formerly aloof woman… the one whose father had described as having female parts like a dried-up raisin. An outrageous idea came to him unbidden. “Are you trying to seduce me, Helga?”
“And if I am?”
Not the answer he’d expected! “Then I’m confused. I would flip you on your back and have my way with you in a trice, and you well know it. Why the sudden turnabout?”
Helga’s face was flaming red. She stood and glared down at him. “Never mind, you coarse-tongued lout. I’ve changed my mind.” With that, she stormed off, hips swaying, presumably bare buttocks getting an airing from under her swishing gunna.
“You can’t play games with me, Helga, and end it so abruptly,” he growled at her departing back.