Page 34 of Heart of Fire
She laid that faint suspicion to rest. She’d clearly listened to her mother’s eddas too often as a girl. After all, what would a powerful creature ever want with the likes ofher?
“Did you enjoy your walk?” Rurik graced her with a faint smile, taking in the state of her skirts. “Tsk. You’ve ruined yourboots.”
“Better mine than yours,” she pointedout.
“True.” Rurik rolled to his feet with fluid grace, setting the book upside down. “Where are yougoing?”
“Some of us do not have time to laze in the sun,” Freyja shot over her shoulder as she headed to the barn. Thanks to her journey to warn thedreki, she was already behind in her day’s work, and needed to see to dinner soon, if they were to dine atall.
Scrambling up the ladder into the loft, she glanced around, noting how much hay she needed to shift. Rurik’s blankets lingered by the slatted window at the front of the barn, slashes of sunlight spilling over his makeshift bed. But she was not going to think ofthat.
“You look like you would enjoy an afternoon spent lazing in the sun.” Rurik followed her up the ladder, looking far too male—a healthy one at that—as he hauled himself into the loft. There was a strength in his muscular frame she could not match. “Maybe you should joinme?”
“If you’re only here to flirt with me, then I might as well put you to good use.” She picked up the pitchfork and thrust it into his hands. “Here.” She pointed to the pile of hay. “I need to shift that over there, so I can drop it down into the stalls when I need to feed my animals. If you want to impress me, then you can help. I will be back to check on your work within thehour.”
Rurik shot her a narrow-slitted gaze, then glanced at the pitchfork as if it was the first time he’d ever seenone.
“If the work is good enough for me,” she pointed out, “then it is good enough for you, mylord.”
And without waiting for a protest, she scurried down the ladder, and toward the door. She needed to fetch her small flock in, then set her stew on the stove. The clouds were brewing with all their spring glory, indicating a storm later thatnight.
It took longer than she’d expected—her small flock didn’t want to go anywhere near the barn, the stupid beasts—but she finally managed to hunt them all inside their stalls, and swung the iron pot she’d prepared earlier over the stove, before she returned to theloft.
Climbing the ladder revealed no sign ofRurik.
Nor were there any sounds of labor in process. Typical. She was just about bristling by the time she reached the top of the ladderand—
—found herself staring at a pile of hay near thetop.
“What? How—?” Freyja looked aroundher.
All the hay had been moved. The pitchfork rested against the nearest beam, and Rurik was stretched out upon his blankets in the corner, with his coat folded neatly besidehim.
Rearing up onto his elbows, he sent her a heated smile. “You’reback.”
“You... finished.” It usually took her at least an hour to do the same amount of work. Rurik didn’t even seem to have raised a sweat, though his collar was undone now, revealing a healthy slice ofchest.
“Would I have dared otherwise?” Slowly, he rolled to hisfeet.
She examined the hayloft. “There’s no way you could have shifted so much hay in such a short time.” The bare timber floorboards where the previous pile had rested were a mockery. Not even a single loose straw laythere.
“Do your eyes deceiveyou?”
“You cheated. Somehow.” She simply couldn’t accept he could work swifter than shecould.
“Aye.” Rurik slowly crossed his arms, his eyelids heavy and his smile smug. “I called upon thenisseto help me impress you, and they answered myprayer.”
Freyja set her hands on her hips. “Nisseare a fairy tale.” The small wights were said to help take care of the house or the barn, but only when the farmer lay asleep, and only in exchange formilk.
“Do you believe indreki?”
That was different. “I have seendrekiwith my owneyes.”
Freyja strode around him, trying to find some means for the almost miraculous feat. His shirt wasn’t even damp with sweat. Rurik glanced behind as she circled him, and the muscles in his thighs and ass tightened behind histrousers.
“You won’t findnissethere,” he pointed out, and she realized he’d caught the direction of hergaze.
Insufferable, smug bastard.She was tired, frustrated, and struggling to resist him, and that did it. The impulse to tackle him to the ground suddenly hit her, but something told her he’d win any fight she started. After all, he dwarfed her by a good six or seveninches.
