Sirens - The Gripping Beast Part 6

He looked slightly confused. "b.u.t.ton is the same as pin, is it not? You want something to fasten your gown?"

"Yeah, wise guy, I want something to fasten my gown. Okay, I'll sing you another song." She'd sing him a song to make him sorry he'd pulled a fast one. She knew how to manipulate an audience's emotions and push b.u.t.tons. She could stir him up, make him squirm and leave him hanging. And she would.

She did.

Five minutes later, he was pinning her gown together at the shoulder with a circular silver brooch. His hands were shaking, but he was true to his promise to get her dressed. Lorelei watched him stop, start over and nearly drop the pin in his state. Maybe it hadn't been fair of her to vamp it up like that. She winced in sympathy when he jabbed himself in the finger once. But overall, she was feeling too pleased with herself to repent.

The pin was a beauty, too. The now-familiar animal motif with curlicues she was beginning to recognize as a common theme in Viking decoration resembled a stylized wolf. It complemented the green and silver dress wonderfully. As if the dress needed any help to be a knockout. Tight sleeves and a tightly fitted bodice molded her curves above the skirt that fell straight to the floor. The style was made to flatter women. Something the twentieth century designers seemed to forget, in Lorelei's opinion.

When Harold finished, she beamed at him. "Thanks. You're a darling."

"And you are going to become very wealthy, if Erik does not kill you first."

"Now, why would he want to do that?"

"Why, indeed," Harold muttered. "He may simply decide to kill the rest of us, instead."

Lorelei grinned at him. "Don't be such a pessimist. I thought you were bored. I thought you were looking forward to having things livened up a little."

"True." He grinned back at her.

"Well, then, let's go strut our stuff." Lorelei placed a hand on his arm and dropped one lid in a wink. "Lead on. I believe you know the way. And maybe you could tell me a little bit about our fearless leader while you're at it."

"You wish to know about Erik?"

Oh, yes, she did. Not only did finding out everything she could about the man who currently held her fate in his hands seem smart, she was curious. He intrigued her. If they'd met under different circ.u.mstances, she would have been interested enough to want to get to know him better. And, well, he was riveting. Not just gorgeous. He commanded attention and radiated strength. The combination was almost lethally s.e.xy.

Out loud, she simply said, "You betcha. I wish to know lots of things, but let's start with the big ones and work down. Like, why am I here?"

"Why are you here?"

Lorelei stopped and frowned at Harold impatiently. "Is there an echo in here? Come on, Harold. Why grab me out of all the choices open to the enterprising Viking with a sword? Let's face it, I didn't make a good first impression if he had a job opening for a malleable, obedient slave girl."

Harold hesitated. Then he said slowly, "I think Erik himself knows not why you are here."

"But you do?" Lorelei prompted.

On the point of answering, he was rudely cut off by the subject of their conversation himself.

There he was again, larger than life and twice as determined, Lorelei mused. And in an outfit that could give even the most conservative woman a leather fetish. What that body of his did for chaps...although they weren't chaps, exactly. More like suede pants with leather thong ties. Whatever, the total effect had her mesmerized. Until his words penetrated the haze of instant l.u.s.t surrounding her brain.

"You will explain and you will begin now," he grated out, advancing on Harold with unspoken menace, "and you will begin with why you have your hand on her, and why she wears the gown you bought for Gudred."

Lorelei shot Harold a dirty look. "You gave me some other woman's clothes? Thanks a lot."

Both men ignored her. Harold gave Erik a sly smile. "I gave her the dress as a gift. She pleased me more than Gudred."

Erik's fist erased the smile.

Lorelei fell back automatically and watched in disbelief as the two men proceeded to exchange blows over the state of her wardrobe. Maybe she shouldn't have asked Harold about clothes. Maybe it had been a mistake not to take it up with Erik first. Maybe some matter of honor or pride was at stake.

Or maybe they were just nuts.

"Hey, enough already!" She caught Erik's arm and glared at him. "If you're offended, that's too bad, but you should have done something about it yourself. You had time." The caustic reminder might have been a little too rude. His eyes took on a particularly icy shade of blue and for a minute she thought she really might have something to fear from him.

He took her arm in a death grip and snarled, "There is no time like the present."

"Well, thanks, but no thanks, buddy. You're a little late now. Your brother already took care of it," Lorelei pointed out. Although on the other hand, maybe she ought to take him up on his sudden interest in her needs. One new dress wouldn't get her far, and she might be stuck here for a long time. "On second thought, maybe I can do a repeat performance."

The grip tightened and Lorelei gasped, more in indignation than pain. "Ouch! Let go, you jerk!"

He didn't let go. He started towards the shelter she'd just left, taking her arm with him and leaving her no choice but to follow along. "Cut it out! You're going to leave a bruise if you don't let up!"

He adjusted his grip but otherwise gave no indication that he'd heard a word she said. Lorelei supposed she should be grateful for small favors, but as he continued dragging her back to the cabin, she didn't see much to be grateful for. She'd just gotten out. If he wanted her back indoors, she wasn't going to cooperate. She deliberately dragged her feet and forced him to carry her full weight in silent protest.

Being silent didn't sit well with her, though.

"You're acting like a barbarian," she ground out between clenched teeth, in case his behavior had escaped his notice. "You can't just haul me around like this."

"I can do whatever I wish with you."

The cold, grim voice hit right on her aggravation b.u.t.ton and she'd already had enough to keep her in a fighting mood for a week even without the choice of words.

"Wrong," she snapped.

When he didn't answer she planted her feet and leaned back until he looked at her. "Answer me when I'm fighting with you, buster."

He looked faintly incredulous.

"You demand I fight you?"

It was kind of ridiculous, put like that. Lorelei felt her anger evaporating, and humor twitched at the corner of her mouth.

"I guess it is kind of funny," she admitted. Then she giggled. The giggles grew to full laughter at the disbelief in his eyes. She had demanded, actually demanded, that this overgrown behemoth fight her. It was too absurd. She laughed until her side ached, and then slumped against him, panting, while she recovered. She didn't even protest when he finished hauling her back to her now-familiar fur.

Or when he threw her down on it and followed suit himself.

Until the grim look in his eye combined with the grip on the contested dress told her where he was headed.

She froze. Her mind was racing a million miles an hour, but her body was frozen like a deer caught in the oncoming headlights of a semi. She'd been the focus of plenty of masculine attention. But she'd never been on the receiving end of anything like this. He looked like a conquering hero bent on taking what he wanted, and he wanted her. Some dark part of her stirred to life and wondered what it would be like to be taken s.e.xually by this man. To be seized and captured and overpowered.

Maybe she was about to find out. One thing she knew for certain, she was fully aware of him. He had her attention in a way no other man had ever managed. She knew the feminine awareness and dark curiosity showed in her eyes and she didn't care. She waited, unable to do anything else, and wondered what he would do next.

She wasn't afraid of him, exactly, although there was a certain amount of fear and it added an erotic edge to the moment. But underneath that was something else. From the beginning she'd stood up to him without hesitation. Why? Because she was used to calling the shots? Or because on an instinctual level she knew he could be trusted?

The answer came instantly. Because he could be trusted.

He might consider her his to possess, but she didn't really believe he would hurt her. Although she couldn't be sure of anything, and that uncertainty mixed with the s.e.xually charged tension between them and ignited it.

His face was expressionless, but his eyes were burning as they held hers. He unfastened her pin with unhurried hands and set it aside. And then he lifted her slightly and stripped the gown from her in one fluid motion, leaving her naked and exposed.

But his eyes remained on hers and she held his gaze. Fascination. That was the only word for this. She was utterly focused on him, captivated by him, his captive both in her mind and her unexpected physical response. In that moment, she didn't think she could or would resist anything he wanted of her.

For countless, endless seconds, or maybe hours, there was silence.

Then he spoke.

"I am your master. You will remember that. And you will wear no other man's gifts."

She went cold with shock at that revealing command. "I will wear...what? Do you mean this whole scene is over what I wear?"

Not because he'd wanted her, not because he'd been caught up in the same strange obsession that had overtaken her brain. That hurt. And the hurt turned to anger in self-defense. Fury returned in full force and edged out the uncomfortable and unexpected vulnerability.

"You dragged me in here over that? Because your brother felt sorry for me and gave me something to wear when you obviously didn't care enough to see to it yourself?"

She was so angry, she actually fell speechless for a minute. She closed her eyes to recover. When she had a partial grip on herself, she bit out, "Get off of me and get out of my sight."

"I am not in your sight. Your eyes are shut."

"Do you always have to be so d.a.m.n literal?" Lorelei demanded.

"So what?" He frowned at the unfamiliar words.

"Literal. It means you take everything seriously, which is a very annoying trait. I'm not very happy with you right now, Erik, and if you don't want a real fight on your hands, you'll take your overgrown self elsewhere. Quickly."

"I care not if you are happy with me," he answered.

"That's obvious." Lorelei opened her eyes to glare at him more effectively. "If you were interested in my happiness, you would think of little things like the fact that I have nothing to wear and that I need some fresh air and suns.h.i.+ne at least every few days." Her sarcasm didn't carom off of his thick skull that time, however.

He frowned, the picture of Barbarian the Perplexed. "You had nothing to wear? You needed air?"

"Right the first time. Give the boy a prize." She shot sparks at him from her eyes. "If you want a pet, Junior, you had better learn to take care of it yourself."

The insults were clear from her tone, even if the words were hard to understand. But Erik let her impudence go without a reprimand. In truth, she had the right of it. He had neglected her and s.h.i.+rked his duty, and all because he did not wish to be reminded of his error in taking her to begin with. And so his error was compounded. If he heard her aright, Harold had only done as he asked, seen to her needs. Not used her to satisfy his own.

He had read his own guilt in his brother's face. He wanted her beyond reason, and so he must believe all other men did as well. Although he found it difficult to believe any man could hear her sing like that and remain unaffected. It still p.r.i.c.ked at him that she had chosen to sing for his brother and not for him. But then, had he given her any opportunity? He had avoided her and she was not to blame for his neglect or his jealousy. Or for his idiocy in not recognizing sooner that she was as sound of mind as he was himself.

Truthfully, he had wished to believe her mad. He had grasped at the excuse to distance himself from her and from his unaccountable response to her. But no man or woman could have such skill with music and be lacking in wits.

Silently, he sat up and gathered her into his arms in a wordless attempt to make amends.

Lorelei recognized an olive branch when she saw one. There wasn't any point in refusing to accept the gesture. In fact, she'd be a real prize idiot to turn down any cooperation she was fortunate enough to find. So she rested her cheek on Erik's broad chest and accepted his silent apology, which was probably the closest thing she could expect to get from him, considering.

She reminded herself that she couldn't expect him to act according to her values. He came from another time. Another culture. And by his standards, he'd probably been more than fair in his treatment of her. Still, she couldn't help being a product of her own time any more than he could. She'd fight for every concession she could conceivably win.

Her quirky sense of humor a.s.serted itself, and it dawned on her that she made every bit as terrible a slave as he made a master. The realization went a long ways towards enabling her to feel forgiving.

Lorelei curled in his lap, feeling oddly as safe and protected with him now as she had when he'd first stepped in to rescue her, in spite of the s.e.xual threat he'd posed moments before. It was weird, but she didn't feel uncomfortable being naked with him. The light pressure of his lips grazing her temple added to the sensation of being somehow cherished. She wasn't sure, but she thought the salute was meant as another peace offering, and an a.s.surance of good faith.

In answer, she slipped her arms around his waist. Then she sighed. "Erik, do you think we'll ever be able to get along?"

"Get along?"

"Yes. You know. Get along. Not fight."

"Certainly we will 'get along'." a.s.surance rang in his authoritative reply. "You will learn to obey, and there will be no more argument."

She half-groaned, half-laughed at that. "Somehow, Erik, I don't think it's going to be anywhere near that simple."

She felt him stroke the length of her hair before he tipped her chin up to study her face. "You are mine. What could be more simple than that?" The question was evidently a rhetorical one, since he didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he lowered his lips to hers in a mind-bending kiss.

She felt the jolt of awareness all the way down to her center of gravity as his mouth moved over hers, searing her with his heat. When he raised his head, she actually thought he'd branded the imprint of his lips on hers. One hand flew to her mouth to trace the imprint as her dazed eyes met his.

"Why did you do that?" The stupid question escaped Lorelei before she could stop it, but she was too shocked to think.

"I did that because I wished to."

The answer wasn't exactly rea.s.suring.

Neither was his next statement.

"Tonight I will do all that I wish with you."

She sputtered at that. "You what? You...you..." Words failed and she ground to a halt. Because her imagination was painting an intensely erotic, vivid picture of all that he might wish to do to her. And some formerly unsuspected dark part of her was riveted. The brief sensation of being in his power s.e.xually had given her a taste of what might happen and just how much she might like it. And that alarmed her. She had a previously unimagined vulnerability that he could exploit until she was his willing slave by her own desire as well as by his archaic laws.

She shoved that possibility away with a fierce will. Unacceptable. She had too much pride to be his plaything. And now she was in the exasperating position of having to resist her own weakness as well as him.

"You heard me not? Tonight I will take you as I please."

She practically gnashed her teeth. Get along, would they? Not likely. "I heard you just fine. I'm not deaf. Erik, you can't just..." Lorelei broke off in frustration as she realized that as far as he was concerned, he could. He actually thought he could do exactly as he pleased. He thought he owned her. And some treacherous, traitorous part of her found that exciting. What was wrong with her? First he had her developing a leather fetish and now fantasies of forced seduction? After a lifetime of celibacy she was suddenly hot for a man who thought she was his love slave?

He was making her insane. That was the only explanation.

Okay, so she couldn't reason with herself. She couldn't reason with him. What did that leave? She could play for time. She did at least have until tonight, that was something.

"Fine," she snarled. "Then meanwhile, why don't you find something else for me to wear and take me back out to get some air before I smother and die in here and deprive you of your fun."

In a huff, she moved off his lap and curled her arms around her legs to prevent him from looking at her. She wasn't giving him any cheap thrills, or any reason to rearrange his schedule, either.

"These demands must cease. No woman who talks as much as you can be in danger of suffocating. You will stay here, and you will stay as I leave you. If I wish you to dress, I will give you clothing to cover yourself with."

With that arrogant reply, he left her sitting there, naked and indignant.

Lorelei stared after his broad departing back in disbelief. Then she yelled after him, "I don't get any clothes? What am I supposed to do in the winter?"

He ignored that question, and Lorelei found that very unsettling.

She thought she remembered that winter in the extreme north got awfully cold.