Until Forever (17 page)

He stood up, slapped his hands down flat on her desk, and leaned halfway across it. His blue eyes had narrowed so much, she actually drew back, somewhat intimidated. And she couldn’t imagine what brought this on, but her Viking was most definitely angry about something. He didn’t keep her in suspense for very long.

“How, exactly, wouldst you take care of it, Roseleen?”

The question came out in too slow and accusatory a manner for her not to grasp that he was thinking the worst, and that stirred her own ire. “Just what have you tried and convicted me of here, Thorn? Do you honestly think I would do you—or rather, your other self, bodily harm, just to…keep…”

Her words trailed away because he was now looking so startled by what she was saying, she knew she was mistaken in the conclusion she’d drawn. He confirmed it.

“That did not occur to me.”

“Then what—?”

She didn’t finish—again. She started laughing as the only other reason that could provoke that kind of reaction in him came to mind. He was jealous, and of himself no less. It was absurd. It was also kind of thrilling. She’d never had anyone be jealous over her before.

“’Tis not amusing,” he growled now.

“No, of course not,” she agreed with him, though she was still grinning widely. “But the only thing I had in mind doing was distract
ing your other Thorn, and only long enough for you to put Sir John to bed.”

“But how will you distract him?”

“Have you never heard of conversation?”

“He had only two interests, and neither was for conversation.”

“Fighting and—women?” she guessed, and almost laughed again, recalling one of their earlier conversations about his needs. “And in all these centuries, you’ve only added one interest to those two—food.”

He was getting annoyed with her amusement, enough to say, “Nay, there is one other interest I now have—the proper training of my woman.”

It was a deliberate provocation. She knew that, and still it caught her squarely. She rose up along with her temper, to lean forward across her desk just as he was doing, glaring at him nose to nose.

“You are borderlining it, big guy, using the word
training
in a context other than job-related. When is it going to sink in that women today stand on an equal footing with men?”

“If there is aught equal between men and women, I would you show it to me now,” he countered.

“I’m not talking brawn and size, and I believe you know that.”

“Nay, what you speak of is having the last say in all things. Wherein is that equal?”

That gave her pause. Had she been coming off with a superior-than-thou attitude without
realizing it? Had she let the fact that he knew next to nothing about her world fool her into thinking he wasn’t intelligent? He was merely barbaric in certain aspects of his thinking—where women were concerned—and that was perfectly normal, all things considered, particularly since it had been more than two hundred years since he’d last been summoned. Equality between men and women certainly hadn’t existed in the seventeen hundreds.

She owed him an apology, she supposed, and a broad one, since she’d probably tweaked his pride in more areas than just one, albeit unintentionally. But she wasn’t looking forward to it at the moment, when she was still simmering over that “training” crack. So the interruption just then would have been welcome—if it were anyone other than who it was: her nemesis, Barry Horton.

“W
hat are you doing here, Rosie? Didn’t I tell you to stay home today?”

Even though Roseleen had read the name engraved on the books, it was still disconcerting to realize that she had actually married this man in this altered world. And he was vastly changed from the Barry she knew. His gray eyes were the same, of course, but his light blond hair was long and unkempt, his clothes casual and sloppy, rather than in their usual pristine condition, not exactly the sophisticated academic look he’d always strived for.

And to be confronted with questions that she wasn’t sure how to answer? How nice. He couldn’t just say “I see you’re busy so I’ll talk to you later.” No, good old Barry, rude to the last drop, and in a tone guaranteed to annoy her.

“Did you?” Roseleen replied stiffly. “I don’t recall.” And then she couldn’t resist adding,
“And even if you had, Barry, you don’t really think I—”

“Do you need another lesson in obedience?” he cut in as he walked toward her.

His expression, not to mention his tone, had turned downright threatening. And what he’d said implied that she’d been taught lessons before. Unbelievable. Barry Horton had turned into a wife beater? And apparently he didn’t care who knew it, if he could say something like that in front of Thorn.

But then, he hadn’t even spared a glance at Thorn, was treating him as if he weren’t even there. And their medieval garb hadn’t drawn a single comment from him, though her own yellow gown, elaborate as it was, was a little less out of the ordinary than Thorn’s cross-gartered leggings and sword. But still, you’d think Barry, as derisive as he could be, would have made some remark…

Treating him as if he weren’t there?

Roseleen looked sharply in Thorn’s direction. She’d wondered once before if anyone else in her time could see him. Mrs. Humes might have served dinner for two that night at the Cottage, but Roseleen didn’t actually recall the woman looking at Thorn or speaking to him. She’d been told there would be two for dinner and she’d served two settings, but she wasn’t the type who would mention the fact that no one was sitting in the other chair. An American housekeeper wouldn’t hesitate to ask, “You do realize, don’t you, that you’re eating alone?” But the reserved Mrs. Humes
would put it down to American eccentricity and might discuss it with her husband later, but she wouldn’t remark on it to her employer.

Only in the past had she actually seen people talk to Thorn.

On the other hand, Thorn Blooddrinker was a very intimidating man, especially with that sword on his hip. Any contemporary man with any sense at all wouldn’t want to draw his notice, might even go to extremes to avoid it, and ignoring him as if he weren’t there could be one of those extremes.

She decided to settle the matter and ask Barry outright if he could see Thorn, but when she glanced back at him to do so, she found him raising a fist to her. She gasped, but there was simply no time to avoid the blow he intended to deliver. There was barely enough time for her to cringe and close her eyes.

But nothing happened. He obviously had thought better of it, or decided to wait until they were in the privacy of their own home, wherever that was. Or maybe just the threat of impending violence had worked on her in the past. Was she supposed to be properly subdued and submissive now? Fat chance of that. What she was was angry, furious actually, at the scare she’d just been given.

But she opened her eyes to find that she was wrong on all counts. Barry hadn’t changed his mind about hitting her, he’d had it changed for him. Thorn had hold of his fist,
and although Barry was straining mightily to break that hold, he couldn’t quite manage it. Thorn, on the other hand, wasn’t straining at all. When Barry finally noticed that—he
could
see Thorn, obviously—he gave up.

With an impotent glare in her direction, Barry ordered, “Call off this cretin, Rosie, or you’ll regret—”

“I wouldn’t be making any threats right now if I were you,” she said as she crossed her arms over her chest. It was all she could do to keep from grinning. “My friend here might not like it.”

“I don’t care what—” he started to bluster, but she was pleased to cut that off too.

“Also, I’d apologize for calling him a cretin. Vikings take exception to being likened to idiots, and although I’m sure you didn’t mean it in that context, that you were more or less only making reference to his considerable size, albeit in a derogatory way, he wouldn’t see it that way.”

To give him credit, Barry did pale somewhat, though it just wasn’t in his character to back down, especially since Thorn hadn’t actually done him any harm, and it didn’t really look as if any was forthcoming. That in itself annoyed Roseleen quite a bit. Thorn could have at least looked a little angry, considering Barry’s intention had been to do
her
harm. But his expression was inscrutable, giving away nothing of his thoughts or feelings.

Barry must have taken courage from that, because his tone didn’t change at all as he ac
cused her, “You’ve taken leave of your senses, right?”

“Yes, apparently, or I wouldn’t still be talking to you. So state your business here, Barry, then get out. Or is your business stealing again? After all, you assumed I wouldn’t be here, didn’t you?”

He actually looked uneasy now. Had she hit it on the nose with her taunting dig?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted, though his voice lacked the strength that that statement demanded.

“Sure you don’t. I wouldn’t happen to keep my research notes here, would I? Haven’t you gotten around to stealing them yet, this time around?”

“This time? I’ve never—”

“Oh, shut up, Barry,” she interrupted him again. “I’m not going to get into how I’ve been through this before. But it was wise of you to wait until after you married me this time. Sort of gives me a second chance to stop you if I was willing to take it, but I’m not. I’d much prefer getting back to where I
didn’t
marry you.”

Of course, he really had no idea what she was talking about now. How she wished it were the Barry
she
knew standing there instead, rather than this wife-beating double. Ironic, that both Barrys were apparently real jerks.

“Divorce?” Barry concluded from what she’d said. “If you think I’ll grant you one—”

“Divorce won’t be necessary,” she told him
with a tight little smile. “I have a much quicker way of getting you out of my life.”

And to get on to it, she turned to Thorn. “We can go now, back to the date we decided on. I’ve got everything I need here.”

His nod of agreement was typically curt. And there was one glorious moment of watching Barry blanch as Thorn let go of him to draw Blooddrinker’s Curse. Apparently, Barry thought killing him was her “quicker way.” But the moment was a brief one, because Thorn extended his hand, and she took it. However, it was replaced by an even briefer moment that was priceless—the expression on Barry’s face as they disappeared right in front of him.

I
t took Roseleen a few moments to realize where she and Thorn were, back in the eleventh century. They were standing outside a hostelry, with sounds of rowdiness coming from inside, and the smell of the docks intruding from close by. But then she was still savoring Barry’s incredulous expression, and thinking that it was too bad that she would never see that particular Barry again so that she could get in a little gloating over it. But putting world history back on the right track was more important, a lot more.

Still, she was grinning when she glanced at Thorn and said, “If we had to shock someone with our disappearing act, I’m glad it was him.”

He grunted. “Your Blueberry husband is a man not to my liking.”

She recalled that inscrutable expression he’d worn and remarked, “Well, you could have fooled me. You seemed not to mind him
one way or the other. And he won’t be my husband anymore, at least he won’t be as soon as we correct things here. ‘Ex-fiancé’ has a much nicer ring to it where that jerk is concerned.”

“I minded, Roseleen,” Thorn said with an edge to his tone. “Did I do as I would have preferred, Blooddrinker’s Curse would have feasted—”

She cut in with a tsking admonishment. “Killing wasn’t called for, Thorn.”

He sighed. “Verily, did I know you wouldst say some womanish thing as that.”

She realized he wasn’t asking a question, but stating a fact. So he’d refrained for her sake?

That produced another grin from her and the comment, “But I wouldn’t have minded if you had socked him.”

“Socked him?”

“Hit him a little bit.”

He looked down at his hands. “There is no little bit involved when I hit. Ask my brother, Thor. I am the only one who can—”

“Are you bragging again, Thorn?”

He shrugged before replying, “Vikings brag—but only with the truth.”

She laughed at that, feeling inordinately pleased with him all of a sudden. So he’d merely contained his anger? And he’d come to her defense, rescued her in his own fashion. He might not be wearing armor, but he was definitely a shining knight in her eyes.

“Well, I guess it’s time for me to meet your
other Viking. But I hope you aren’t going to tell me he’s already inside that drinking establishment we’ve arrived at. Or are ladies allowed in—?”

“Nay, ’tis a place not for
ladies
, but for—”

“You don’t have to elaborate,” she cut in. “I catch your drift.”

“And I wouldst not allow you to enter such a place,” he added.

“Thank you—I think. Then I take it your other self hasn’t arrived yet?”

“Nay, but Sir John was already here when I came that night. I will speed him on his way to bed now, so you needs not deal with my other self.”

“Wait a minute,” she said in surprise. “I was looking forward to meeting you—the other you, that is.”

“You do
not
want to meet him, Roseleen. He would know you not, and he—”

“Yes, yes, I know, he had only two things always on his mind. But are you sure he isn’t going to show up while you’re busy in there? What if Sir John doesn’t want to leave right away? And remember, he has to be hale and hearty in the morning, not suffering any wounds that you might inflict if he gives you a hard time.”

He frowned, probably realizing that he didn’t have too many options for getting Sir John out of there. “Aye, he had a woman chosen for the night, the prettiest to be had. ’Twas why I challenged him to the drinking bout, as I recall. I wanted her for myself.”

Jealousy came up out of nowhere to poke its green horns at Roseleen. And it was absurd. It wasn’t
this
Thorn who wanted that other woman, at least not now, but the other one, and…and that didn’t seem to matter where these particular emotions were concerned.

“Just make sure you don’t get tempted this time,” she grumbled.

He grinned at her tone, and suddenly she found herself pressed up against him, his arms tight around her, while his mouth played havoc with hers. Within seconds, he had her turned on, so it was rather frustrating when he ended that stirring kiss and let go of her.

It took her a few moments just to remember where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. But when she did, she decided she’d have to get even with him for making her want him that much, when he had no intention of actually making love to her.

“Verily,” he said softly, “there is only one female capable of tempting me now.”

That had her blushing, and fighting to keep from grinning like an idiot—and forgetting about getting even. “Well, in that case, you better get busy. And I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if Sir John continues on as he had intended. Maybe if you slip a coin or two to the female, she’ll hurry him out of there for you.”

“An excellent suggestion,” he replied.

“I’ll just hide around the corner here, just in
case you take too long and I need to do some distracting.”

He stopped long enough to say, “There is a back door to this place. Await me there. There will be no need for you to do any distracting.”

“All right, all right, just go.”

He did, but she didn’t.

Roseleen moved just around the corner of the building, where there were plenty of shadows to conceal her, and leaned against the wall there to wait. Thorn would realize where she was when he finished and would call her to join him. She had no doubt of that, and she’d worry later about his annoyance with her for not doing what he’d told her to do.

In the meantime, she wasn’t going to take the chance on having his other self show up too soon and walk into the hostelry while he was still in there. She couldn’t imagine what would happen if they ended up facing each other, but she didn’t want to find out.

But as luck would have it, time passed, and she heard footsteps approaching before she heard any call from the back of the building.