At the same time, Ruby’s heart thudded wildly at this first glimpse of her husband’s new golden, hard body. She felt like a breathless girl of eighteen again.
“Jack,” Ruby called out happily, while Rhoda tried to hold her back. The dolt! He ignored her. He was mad at her, of course. Hadn’t he just walked out on their marriage?
He seemed to have arrived on one of the big ships, and the attention he aroused indicated that he was a man of importance. When he stopped to talk to someone, Ruby realized that his right arm encircled the shoulders of a buxom, blond “Vikingess” in a green silk tunic with enough gold and jewels at her neck and arms to ransom a king.
Ruby’s initial hurt turned quickly into jealousy and then a white-hot anger. Furious, Ruby yelled “Jack” again, but he still looked the other way. Lying pond scum! He’d said there was no other woman.
“Two-timing sonofa…” Ruby muttered on a sob, breaking away from Rhoda and Olaf to approach Jack. She’d show him. She picked up a clump of mud the size of a cantaloupe, took careful aim and hurled the clod, hitting him square in the face. She smiled widely in satisfaction. She hadn’t been an ace softball pitcher in high school for nothing!
The tall figure swiveled, azure eyes wide with shock, but before he could react, Ruby pointed a finger at his stunned companion and warned, “Stay away from my husband if you know what’s good for you.”
Looking as if she’d seen a ghost, the wide-eyed woman backed away, slipped in the mud and fell flat on her rear.
Ruby laughed at the comical picture until Olaf came up behind her, lifted her off the ground with massive arms wrapped around her like steel bars and squeezed until she thought her ribs would crack.
“Put me down, you oaf,” Ruby shrieked. Then she turned to her husband, demanding, “Jack, tell this goon to put me down. He’s hurting me.”
“Not Oaf. Olaf,” the giant corrected Ruby.
Ruby grimaced with impatience and looked up over her shoulder. “Put me down, Oaf.” He reacted by lifting her higher in the air, as if she weighed no more than a feather.
Jack studied her icily, his jaw clenched with suppressed violence. He slowly wiped the mud from his face with a square of linen cloth. His girlfriend wailed loudly at his side until one of his companions reached over with a burly arm and cuffed her into silence.
A deathly quiet surrounded Ruby. The crowd stopped all activity to watch the spectacle.
Well, okay, maybe she shouldn’t have hit him, especially in a public place, but he had no right to look at her so angrily. After all, he was the one in the wrong. Adultery was adultery—even in a dream.
With a commanding air, the Viking walked purposefully over to where Olaf still held her with feet dangling off the ground. His well-developed, massive body moved with an easy grace, not unlike her own modern-day husband. Standing so close she caught the familiar masculine scent of his skin, Jack extended a questioning forefinger to lift her chin in a whisper of a caress. Ruby leaned into his stroke reflexively, but then jerked back at the sensuous shock that shot hot flames through her. Jack’s furrowed brows and intense, puzzled eyes told Ruby without words that he, too, had been affected by the simple touch. The very air around them seemed electrified.
But then anger transformed Jack’s face. She soon found out why. Taking her chin in a painful, viselike grip, Jack snarled, “What manner of fool are you, boy, that you dare to strike Thork, son of Harald, high-king of all Norway?”
Boy? He thought she was a boy, Ruby realized. No wonder he was upset by the sexual chemistry between them. Well, compared to the way these people dressed, she supposed she might look like a young male in her pants and short Sassoon haircut. And, hey, wasn’t Jack aiming high these days—son of a bloody king? Should she bow or what?
“Who are you?” Jack growled again, bruising her chin with his fingers. “Do you spy for Ivar?”