Authors: Hot,Heavy
Sandra Hill (36 page)
Did she listen to his warning about causing a scene? Hardly. She sat down at an empty seat between him and Laura, linked her fingers together, setting her forearms on the edge of the table, and looked at him with those soulful blue eyes of hers.
“You’re angry,” she observed with surprise.
“No kidding.”
“I told you I was all right.”
“Big deal!”
“You knew I would come back eventually.”
“Oh, really? And how in hell was I supposed to know that?” He barely restrained himself from reaching over and shaking her. “For all I knew, you could be dead.”
“I told you I love you. Didst think I say that to everyone … or anyone, for that matter? You should have known I would not leave you.”
She still loves me. Oh, God! I should not care, but I do. I want to wring her neck and kiss her at the same time.
“What planet do you come from?”
“No planet. Just time—”
“Don’t even say it. I am not in the mood for that time-travel crap.”
She shrugged, as if to suggest that time-travel needn’t be an important issue between them. Then she sniffed several times and said, pointing to their dishes, “Is that garlic I smell?”
Huh?
“Yeah, there’s some garlic in this salad.” Actually, there was quite a bit, now that she mentioned it.
She did the oddest thing then. She clapped a hand over her mouth as she began to retch. Then she ran away from them, presumably to find a ladies’ room.
He looked at Laura. She looked at him. “Go,” she said.
Placing a twenty on the table, he squeezed her hand and said, “Thanks. And, for the record, she’s not my wife.”
Laura grinned at him. “She should be.”
He grinned back. “Yeah.”
Halfway down the block, he caught up with Maddie, who was heading into an alley. He grabbed one hand, the one that still clutched the shopping bag, and stopped her so that she turned to face him. She still had one hand over her mouth.
“Are you sick?”
She does look kind of pale.
She shook her head, took several deep breaths, then said, “It was just the garlic.”
“Garlic? I thought maybe it was me.”
Maybe I should apologize. I don’t know what for, but I’ll say I’m sorry for just about anything if she’ll come back. How pathetic is that?
She didn’t react to his words. “Ever since those terrorists kidnapped me and did so much cooking with garlic, I have developed this … reaction.”
Oh. Well, I’ll be damned if I’ll apologize for garlic. Even I am not that pathetic.
He had backed her up against the brick wall in the alley. She smelled like flowers … the same scent that had hit him the last night he’d been with her. She’d told him it was body lotion. “I’ve never heard of garlic doing that to a person.”
“You look awful,” she said.
“Thanks a bunch.”
“There are circles under your eyes and you look thinner.”
“Well, you look great. In fact, you’re glow …” His words trailed off as the most bizarre idea occurred to him, and several facts flipped through his mind like a deck of cards: how glowing she’d looked walking down the street, and how white her face was now; and the retching.
Is it possible?
Nah!
But what if … ?
“Why are looking at me so funny?”
He linked his fingers with hers and said, “Come with me.”
The whole time as he dragged her along to the drug store and selected and paid for his purchase, she berated him, “You are such a low-down, good-for-nothing weasel. What were you doing with that woman? Oh! You had better not have tupped her. If you tupped her, I just might lop off your head. Better yet, another body part. Where are we going? You are walking too fast. I’m hungry of a sudden. Can we go back and get a cheeseburger, French fries and a chocolate milk shake? Oh, you are a tyrant to starve me so!”
He stopped abruptly
She ran into him.
“Where are you living?”
He could see that she considered not telling him, but she must have noticed the “No mercy” expression on his face. She gave him the address, which was only two blocks away. Yep, Alison and Ragnor had a lot to answer for. He recognized the address as Allie’s old second-floor apartment in a Coronado Victorian house.
He began pulling her along again, walking briskly. When they got to the house, she asked, “Are you going to beat me? If you even try, I swear I will kill you … mayhap not right away … but sometime in your sleep perhaps.”
He still held her hand firmly, but he put the other hand to her cheek and said, “Oh, Maddie, don’t you know? I would never, ever hit you. Never.”
“Well, I don’t understand what all the hurry is
about, then,” she grumbled as they made their way up the stairs.
“Sweetheart, I am pretty damn sure I am going to make your day.”
Pink or blue, baby …
Ian had lost his mind.
That was the only conclusion Madrene could come to as he shoved her inside her apartment and tugged her toward the bathing chamber. “Pee in this cup,” he said, handing her one of those disposable cups that hung in a special case on the wall.
“I beg your pardon.”
He must have gone barmy. ’Tis my fault. I made him demented.
“Pee in the damn cup.” He had the nerve then to lift her skirt, pull down her panties and shove her onto the toy-let seat. Then he shoved the cup between her legs.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Undoubtedly. I’m not leaving till you do it.”
Despite her mortification, she did as he ordered. “You’d better not be planning that perverted thing in bedsport that they did on
Sex and the City
. There are some things that I will not do. For a certainty,
that
crosses the line.”
His mouth gaped open like a blowfish, and then he laughed.
After she got up and adjusted her clothing and washed her hands, he barred her from leaving. “What is going on with you?” she asked.
He had taken out the box he’d purchased downtown. It had the letters E, P and T on it. She tried to sound it out, but the word made no sense.
Taking an object out of the box, he stuck it in the urine.
He truly is demented. Should I suggest he see a head doctor?
Then he took her in his arms and hugged her tightly to him. In a voice so soft she hardly heard him, he whispered against her ear, “I think you’re pregnant. This is a test that will tell us for sure.”
“No!” she cried out, trying to struggle out of his embrace. “It is so cruel of you to tease me on that subject. How could you? How could you?” Madrene’s legs gave way, and her heart nigh burst with agony.
He still held her tightly, making soothing noises as he stroked her hair. “You’ve asked me to believe in miracles … time-travel, for God’s sake. Can’t you believe in miracles, too?”
“Do not do this to me. I beg you,” she cried.
“If time-travel could happen, maybe you’re not barren like you think, or at least not with me.”
She was sobbing loudly now. The pain was crushing her lungs. She could barely breathe.
Ian was no better.
He was taking a huge gamble. He could see how badly Maddie was taking his suggestion, but he had to go on. This might very well be a make-or-break point in their relationship.
Hey, Lord, if You’re up there, I could use a little help. Please don’t let me have set her up for a crushing disappointment.
“Where’s my brave girl who fights off Viking invaders, Arab sultans and Navy SEALs? She doesn’t even have the nerve to take a pregnancy test? I don’t think so!”
She pulled her head back to look at him. There was hope in her eyes. Glancing over at the pregnancy test, she asked, “What does it say?”
He let her go. Now he was the one losing his nerve. He picked it up, looked at it, then closed his eyes. Finally he turned around. With tears burning in his eyes, he held his arms open to her.
Then he smiled.
Anything worth doing is worth doing well …
Two weeks later, on a Saturday, Ian and Maddie were sleeping late in his bed, with Sam curled up at the bottom of their bare feet.
In that dream state, halfway between sleep and wakefulness, Ian smiled to himself. Today was going to be his wedding day. They’d obtained a license, thanks to a forged birth certificate for Maddie given to them by Slick. Ian didn’t want to know how Slick had gotten it. They had a noon appointment today at City Hall, where they would officially become husband and wife.
It would be a private affair. He and Maddie had both insisted on that, despite her family’s suggestion that they hold a fancy big-ass wedding and reception at Blue Dragon, and despite his fellow SEALs’ urging that they hold a wild big-ass party/wedding here near the base. Actually, they both felt as if they
were already married, and the wedding rites were just a technicality.
He should have known it couldn’t be that easy.
Just as he was about to open his eyes and wake Maddie with a kiss, and something more, a loud explosion went off out on the beach.
He jackknifed to a sitting position and then stood. Sam almost hit the ceiling with a screeching meow. Maddie screamed. Another explosion went off, but now he realized it was more a rat-a-tat series of explosions.
Grabbing a pistol from the bedside table and a rifle from the closet, he rushed out to the deck, not bothering to dress. His jaw dropped practically to his chest. “Sonofabitch!”
It was Cage out on the beach, setting off firecrackers. And he was all decked out in dress whites. Up in the sky, some skywriter, probably Pretty Boy, was spelling out
Ian Loves Maddie.
Another plane followed the skywriter, and out dropped at least ten skydivers, all in dress uniforms. As they landed, he was able to identify them: his squad members, Ragnor, his commander, his XO and, unbelievably, his brothers and father. They shucked their chutes and harnesses, and the whole bunch of them joined Cage and started walking toward him. As one, they gave him a little wave.
He gave them the finger.
“Nice duds!” Cage called out with a laugh.
He looked down and saw that he was naked. Not that he cared. Oops! Maybe he did care. Glancing to the side of his house, he saw some women. His sister, Polly, the Magnusson and Ericsson women with their men, and lots of others.
Quickly he ducked inside the bedroom, where Maddie was staring with horror at the scene unfolding before them. At least she’d had the sense to don a robe.
There was a short rap on the open sliding door. It was Cage. “Don’t hit me,” he said, grinning. “I just wanted to explain.”
“There isn’t any explanation that would stop me from hitting you.” Ian pulled on a pair of sweatpants.
“Remember how you always said, ‘Anything worth doing is worth doing well.’ Well, we SEALs and your family and her family decided it would be a shame not to give you a suitable sendoff.”
“Do not dare throw my own words back at me. I am so pissed at you … all of you. I told you we wanted this to be private.”
Cage shrugged. “My MeeMaw, she allus said, some folks jist doan know whass good for ’em.”
“What are those people doing out there?” Maddie screeched in Ian’s ear. She was standing right behind them.
“I think they’re the caterers,” Cage said.
A dozen people outside were arranging chairs and tables and a freakin’ tent big enough to hold a circus. In another section of the beach, a rose-covered trellis or archway or something was being erected. And—oh, no!—a red carpet.
He and Maddie both glowered at Cage.
Throwing his hands up in the air, Cage said, “Don’t blame me. It was your father.” He was speaking to Maddie now. “Whew! When Magnus says he wants to do something, you don’t argue with him. Especially when he’s carrying that sword. He said, ‘There
is going to be a Viking wedding. By Odin, I swear it will be so.’ What could we do?”
A Viking wedding?
A sword?
Ian groaned.
“My father! I should have known!” Maddie shrieked. “Let me go out there. I will tell him what I think of his highhanded methods. Yea, I will. How dare he! E’er did he treat me like a child, even when I was married.”
Just in time, Ian put his hands on her shoulders to hold her back. They needed to think this out and be calm … before they kicked ass.
“I don’t have my dress whites. They’re at the dry cleaners.”
What a pitiful excuse for not having a wedding!
“No problem,” Cage said with a wide smile. “Geek picked them up yesterday.”
“The city will never let us have a wedding on the beach.”
“Slick knows somebody who knows somebody. It’s all taken care of.”
“How long have you been planning this?”
“A week.”
“How many of you were involved in planning this … nightmare?”
Cage pretended to be counting on his fingers, then announced, “Twenty-five.”
“Twe-twenty-five?” Ian sputtered out.
Maddie had seemed to be in shock, but now she spoke up. “I cannot get married here. I have naught to wear.”
What a pitiful excuse for not having a wedding!
“Well, actually,” a feminine voice said from the
doorway, where Maddie’s sister Kirsten stood. She and Dagny brought in a very unusual dress … in fact, it appeared to be identical to the one she was wearing in the portrait at Blue Dragon.
Maddie started to weep. For a woman who never cried, she was doing an awful lot of that lately.
“It’s out of our hands now, honey,” Ian said, squeezing her shoulder. But into her ear, he whispered, “We have our own special secret that we are not sharing with anyone. Let them have their fun. We have this.”
She put a hand over her belly and smiled at him, gloriously.
With a final laugh, Ian walked off to help plan the biggest blowout wedding he and Maddie never wanted.
A SEAL farmer? I … don’t … think … so! …
In the end, Madrene and Ian had to admit it was the best wedding any couple could have ever asked for.
When Madrene walked down the red carpet, through an archway of swords held by the SEALs and the men of her Viking family, everyone sighed at the romantic picture she made. The way she carried herself, some said she looked like an ancient princess. She said the only prince she wanted was standing beside her.
Ian’s father came up to Ian at one point and said, “I am proud of you, son.” Before a stunned Ian could say a word, his father pulled him into a fierce bear hug.
JAM, who had somehow renewed his license, married them … again.
Torolf gave Madrene an extra hug near the end of
the day. He would be taking a leave from the SEALs shortly and departing for Norway and the site of long-ago Norstead in hopes of returning to the past and ousting Steinolf. Madrene understood his need to do so, but in some ways she hoped he failed. Sometimes it was best to put the past to rest, she thought.
When they had all eaten their fill, and danced till they dropped, and the musicians had gone home, Magnus came up to his daughter and his new son-by-marriage. “I have a little gift for you, child,” he told Madrene and handed her a document. Madrene gave it to Ian to read.
“A farm? In the Imperial Valley? It’s a deed to a five-hundred-acre farm.” Ian was clearly confused and turned to Madrene to say, “What would we do with a farm?”
But then he saw her face.
“A farm!” she cried with glee, clapping her hands together. “With horses, and cows, and pigs, and chickens?”
Her father nodded.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Ian said. “Be reasonable, Maddie. What would we do with a farm?”
“It’s not for now,” her father explained. “It will be taken care of till the time you tire of the military and want to please your wife.”
After her father walked away, Ian asked Madrene, “A farm? With cow manure? And mean ol’ bulls? And milking? And all that hard work? You want to live on a freakin’ farm?”
“Yea, but we don’t have to. I will be happy wherever you are. We can give it back to my father. Whatever you want.”
Yeah, right! When a woman says that, it means she’ll get her way eventually. But a farm? Holy shit! A farm?
When they were finally alone, in bed, with Sam, Ian said, “I didn’t have time to buy you a wedding gift, honey.”
She rolled over in his arms, kissing him softly on the lips. Then she put his palm on her bare belly. “This is the greatest gift you could have given me.”
Ian had trouble speaking over the lump in his throat. But finally he said, “No, sweetheart, it is a gift you are giving me.”
A little later, when Ian was almost asleep, Madrene leaned over and whispered in his ear, “I forgot. I have a gift for you, dearling.”
Uh-oh! It better not have anything to do with farms.
“Have you ever heard of the Viking S-Spot?”
Some claimed that forever after, Ian was said to remark on many an occasion, “God bless Vikings!”