Page 4 of Viking’s Naughty Elf

Brushing my nose with his, Rune’s tongue slips out and licks across my swollen lips. “I think it is because we both know it’s what you want, and from the second I saw you, I had this primitive instinct to make you mine. You sealed your fate when you made your request.”

I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes to mind. Rune makes me second-guess everything I thought I knew about myself. Instead, I say, “My little sister had a baby with a boy shethought would love and be there for them, and he abandoned them both. She went through hell; I can’t do that.”

He appears thoughtful before responding. “I’m sorry she had that experience, but that won’t be ours.”

“How do you know?” I whisper the question, afraid of the answer, afraid to believe him.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “I just do. Trust me, little one.”Oh, how I want to.

RUNE

We started off hot and heavy, with anticipation and lust guiding our desires to the bedroom. Then she shared her confessions and fears, and I knew I had to step back. To give her the requested room to breathe. Considering we’d known each other for such a short time, it only seemed fair.

Now, it’s late in the evening, and we’re snowed in for the night. Not that I’d allow Chloe to leave, but at least I have an excuse as I make venison stew for dinner.

“You really play Santa?” Her chin rests on her hands on the back of the sofa as she watches me in the kitchen. A warm fire in the hearth at her back has kept us warm all day.

“I have been since I was about sixteen or so when my grandfather became too sick to do the job any longer, and I begged my father to allow me to do it instead.” I was happy to take over. I’ve always loved children and wanted a horde of my own one day. Until today, I hadn’t imagined that ever happening.

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” I feel the tips of my ears heat at her praise. It’s been a long time since someone has gushed over me.

“Where are they now?” She’s hesitant with her question.

“My father lives about three kilometres to the southwest of us in his own cabin.” Glancing at her, I see she’s happily surprised that the man is still kicking. “My grandfather passed away a few years after I took over.” Compassion and sorrow cross her face as she offers me a slight smile of sympathy.

Dishing out our stew, I place the bowls and a plate of biscuits on a serving tray before moving to where she sits and putting it on the coffee table. Chloe joins me in sitting on the floor, and it feels very domestic.

We eat in silence for a while before she asks, “Do you have many tales about Erik the Red?” Biting my tongue at her inquisitive question, I simply nod but offer up no more. “I read that his son, Leif Eriksson, might have been the one to truly discover America, not Columbus.”

I decide to give her an inch. “Leif is the one we descend from, according to the history books my father has.” The excitement in her eyes gets me to spill more. “Leif was a possessive man. If he had made the discovery, it would have been well documented. I do know he built a settlement in the Canadian Maritimes at one time. Once he met his wife, however, discovery and pillaging became a distant memory.”

I watch her take a bite, chew slowly before swallowing, and then meet my heated gaze. “Is that so?”

My head moves up and down as I place the spoon back in my bowl. “It is. There’s a tale about the men in my family.”

Her curiosity forces her to seek more information. “What sort of tale?”

“That once we find the woman meant to be ours, it’s instantaneous. The attraction, the love and devotion. Nothing stops us from getting what we want. Not even her.” A flush works up Chloe’s cheeks as she turns to me.

“Did it happen to your father?” I confirm. “Did he see it as a curse or a blessing?”

“Both.”

“How come?”

My lips tilt upwards. “My mother was the love of his life, and he cherished every moment he had with her. When she passed from sepsis after a routine surgery, he crumbled. He was never the same man, but he doesn’t regret a moment of their life together.”

Tears well in her eyes, and my heart expands with gratitude. “I’m so sorry about your mom and your dad’s heartbreak.”

Gripping her hand in mine, I bring it to my lips and gently kiss the inside of her wrist, flicking my tongue along the sensitive flesh. “Her name was Tyra, after what is believed to have been the first Queen of Denmark, Thyra. Also, one ofherancestors.”

“Wow! Another one. Those are beautiful names.” I nod, already realising she’ll want to write about Erik and, now, Thyra. “Any other Vikings in the family?” She giggles, sliding closer to me.

Pushing the table back to make room for her in my lap, I wait until she’s settled before offering, “I’ll tell you as much as you want to know if you’ll give this Viking a chance.”

“What kind of chance?” Her eyes narrow playfully.

“The kind that would involve forever.” She bites her lip before quickly nodding like she’s afraid she’ll change her mind.

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