Magic by Moonlight Page 9

  He cleared his throat, and returned the glass to her. "Water," he mimicked. When her hand closed around the glass, though, he caught it and lifted it, examining her fingers with close scrutiny. He even ran the pad of his thumb over the edges of her unpainted, neatly cropped nails. He frowned. Then he released her hand and studied her face. "Adrianna?"

  She set the glass down. "No." She shook her head firmly. "Miranda." She tapped her chest hard for emphasis. "Miranda." She saw that she was at least making some headway. He now wondered. She spotted her glasses where she'd left them the night before, and automatically picked them up and slipped them on.

  A second later, they were removed by amazingly gentle hands. He turned them this way and that, a frown making parentheses between his brows. He drew them close to his face and peered through the lenses.

  He's like a child, she thought, watching him. Like a big, lost child in a strange new world. Except that he was a dangerous child, one she needed to handle carefully.

  She took the glasses from him and slipped them into her pocket. She pointed to his chest and said, "Ulf? Svein?" So far she only knew him as The Plague of the North. "Hvað, um, your name.. .heitir þu?"

  "Rolf Magnusson." His voice was clearer now, and decidedly louder. He nodded, indicating the empty glass. "Water."

  "More?" She took his wrist in her free hand and drew him carefully from the room and into the adjoining control room. He gazed curiously all around, eyes widening at the bank of monitors with their flat white lines and the rows of buttons and dials and switches. He was more amazed, though, when she turned on the faucet and water flowed into the sink. He watched her, and a second later, he moved her aside to stand where she'd been.

  Setting his sword aside, he turned the knobs first one way and then the other, making the water flow, hot then cold, and finally making it stop. He studied the stream, following it to the drain. Dropping to his knees, he next examined the pipes beneath the sink.

  He frowned, nodded slowly, and rose to take the glass from her hand. She willingly let it go, and watched as he filled it on his own. He held the glass beneath the faucet until it was spilling over his big hand. Then he reached again for the knob and turned it off. For a long moment, he regarded the glass in his hand. Finally he brought it to his lips and tilted it up as if he'd down it all in one gulp as he had before.

  This time she put a hand over the one holding the glass. "Slow," she told him. She pushed her other hand in a downward sweep and repeated, "Slow." Placing a palm on his stomach to try to show that he'd give himself a stomach ache if he drank too quickly, she quickly realized it was a bad idea. Too intimate and personal a touch. His abs were hard as rock and warm beneath her fingers, even through the thin tunic he wore and the shirt beneath it. She looked up quickly. His eyes seemed to darken. He held her intense gaze for a long moment, and it was Miranda who finally looked away, baffled by her sudden shortness of breath and the odd tension coiling somewhere within her.

  He studied her as if she'd done something unexpected, then he drank, slowly this time. It was remarkably easy to make him understand her, she thought. When he finished, he set the glass carefully on the counter. "Rolf." She tested the name. "Rolf Magnusson." What now, she wondered.

  The sound of footsteps on the stairs alerted her, and when Rolf saw the way her eyes flew wide and her body went rigid, his powerful hand closed around her upper arm, pushing her behind him as he lifted his sword and sent a fierce glare through the doorway, into the darkened basement.

  "No, Rolf. Nei!" she whispered urgently. She tugged on his arm until the sword lowered, then reached around him to close the door until it was only open a crack.

  "Miss O'Shea?"

  "Who is it?" She clung to Rolf's tensed biceps, praying he wouldn't decide to behead the man with a single swipe of Vengeance before he could answer.

  "Officer Phillips, Professor. I was knocking for quite a while. Got worried when no one answered, since the lights are still on. Everything all right?"

  Rolf emitted a low grunt and his expression told her what he thought of her restraining hand. "Fine, everything's fine. I'm afraid I can't talk to you now, though. Some of the controls got knocked out of whack earlier and I have to get them back in order. Sorry to be rude."

  "No problem. Anything I can do to help?"

  "No, thank you. Good night, Officer Phillips." She sighed in relief when he responded in kind and she heard his steps retreating up the stairs, and listened until the door slammed. Then her entire body sagged at the close call. She hadn't realized until this very moment what she was going to do with Rolf. It shocked her now that she had. Her entire life had been devoted to science. The decision she'd made, though, was the opposite of the one the scientists of the world would wish for. It was more like the one the romantics of the world would approve. But there was only one decision she could make. She couldn't allow Rolf to become the hottest new guinea pig in the world. She just couldn't. She had to hide him from everyone. She didn't know how, but she had to do it.

  Rolf's hand closed on her shoulder and she winced, but not because of him. He’d touched a sore spot. He turned her toward him, his frown deeper than ever. His fingers closed on the collar of her blouse and he pulled it to one side, snapping the top two buttons and baring the shoulder he'd inadvertently hurt. There was a deep purple bruise she knew there, the one she'd received from the intruder. Rolf’s face turned thunderous when he saw it, and he spewed a stream of words she didn't understand. As he spoke he motioned with his sword toward the stairway and the last phrase sounded as if it might have been a question.

  She wondered if he were asking whether Officer Phillips had given her the bruise, or whether she'd like the man dissected for his crime. Either way, she knew she had to disabuse him of the notion. Funny, she thought, that he would pull her hair the way he had, shove her around like that, yell at her for whatever this Adrianna had done, and then get so angry at the knowledge that someone else had harmed her. But he was from another time, and his morality, his ethics, were too. She had to remember that. Touching his face, she brought his gaze back to hers. "Nei, Rolf. It wasn't him. Nei." She touched the hand holding the sword, putting a slight downward pressure on it, and he lowered the weapon, looking none too pleased about it.

  She nodded in approval and smiled. His gaze dropped to her bruised, exposed shoulder and softened. Gently he touched the purplish skin with two fingers and murmured something low and soft.

  She pulled her shirt together hastily, feeling the blood rush to her face at his show of tenderness. It was an odd feeling, having someone so angry on her behalf, one she didn't remember ever having experienced before. Of course Russell would have been upset if he'd known the intruder had harmed her, but not like this. Rolf had been ready to do battle...all over a little bruise. All right, not so little from the way it ached, but still... She shook herself and took one of Rolf's hands, or as much of it as she could grasp.

  She looked up into his eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, Rolf. I'm your friend. Eg er vinur þinn. You're going to have to trust me."

  He watched her closely, his eyes going from hers, to her lips as she spoke, to her throat and back to her eyes again. He licked his lips after a moment, pressed two fingers to his thumb and tapped his lips three times. "Eg er svangur."

  "Hungry? I'm hungry, too." She touched her lips as he had. "I am hungry. Say it, Rolf. I am hungry."

  "I am hungry." His mimicking ability was astounding.

  She nodded encouragingly. "Now say my name. Miranda. Endurtakið. Repeat it, Rolf. Miranda." She had no doubt he understood what she was asking of him. He seemed keenly intelligent.

  He studied her for a long moment, his eyes narrow with suspicion. At last, sneering slightly, he gestured, lifting one hand, four fingers touching the thumb. He flicked the fingers open with a sarcastic little snap and whispered, "Adrianna."

  "Can't pull one over on you, can I?" She shook her head, rolled her eyes to show her displeasure, but still g
ripped his hand and drew him through the basement and up the stairs.

  Find Miranda’s Viking on Smashwords.

  Also Available on Smashwords:

  Shayne’s Supernaturals

  Wings in the Night Reborn

  Twilight Guardians

  Twilight Vendetta

  The Rhiannon Chronicles

  The Fairies of Rush

  Fairytale

  Forever Enchanted

  Once Upon A Time

  The Immortal Witches

  Eternity

  Infinity

  Destiny

  Eternal Love: The Immortal Witch Series

  Stand Alone Titles

  Annie's Hero

  The Bride Wore A Forty-Four

  The Fairy’s Wish

  Gingerbread Man

  The Texas Brands

  The Littlest Cowboy

  The Baddest Virgin in Texas

  Badlands Bad Boy

  Long Gone Lonesome Blues

  The Lone Cowboy

  Lone Star Lonely

  The Outlaw Bride

  Texas Angel

  Texas Homecoming

  The Oklahoma Brands

  The Brands Who Came for Christmas

  Brand-New Heartache

  Secrets and Lies

  A Mommy For Christmas

  Sweet Vidalia Brand

  And MAGGIE'S NON-FICTION

  Shayne On You

  Magick and the Law of Attraction: A User’s Guide

  About the Author

  New York Times bestselling author Maggie Shayne has published more than 50 novels and 23 novellas. She has written for 7 publishers and 2 soap operas, has racked up 15 Rita Award nominations and actually, finally, won the damn thing in 2005.

  Maggie lives in a beautiful, century old, happily haunted farmhouse named “Serenity” in the wildest wilds of Cortland County, NY, with her soul-mate, Lance. They share a pair of English Mastiffs, Dozer & Daisy, and a little English Bulldog, Niblet, and the wise guardian and guru of them all, the feline Glory, who keeps the dogs firmly in their places. Maggie’s a Wiccan high priestess (legal clergy even) and an avid follower of the Law of Attraction

  Connect With Maggie:

  Maggie's Website

  Maggie’s Bliss Blog

  Maggie’s Coffee House Blog

  Twitter

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Also Available on Smashwords: