Free Her Viking Valentine (All Fired Up) by Kristen Painter Page B

as she looked around. Champagne chilled in the ice bucket and a stunning bouquet of red roses nestled alongside it.
     
    “Look.” She pointed. “Seamus was right, this is a nice company.”
     
    Alrik reached for the roses and held them out to her. “Nay, these are from me. When you told me about getting this car for us, I asked your uncle what I might do to make it more special.”
     
    “What a sweet thing to do.” She took the bouquet and lifted it to her nose, inhaling deeply. “They smell wonderful—ack! What’s that?”
     
    A bee zipped out of the flowers. She swatted at it. A second later, her hand began to burn. “It stung me.”
     
    Alrik snatched it in his palm and threw it to the carpet, crushing it with his shoe. “There should not be bees this time of year.” He glanced skyward, then cupped Calleigh’s hand between his. He plucked the stinger out, flicked it away and gently kissed the spot. “I do not like that you are hurt. Is it bad?”
     
    “Not terrible,” she lied. She didn’t want him to feel responsible because of the flowers. “Why don’t you open the champagne? A little bubbly might help take away the pain.” She smiled weakly. Her hand was throbbing.
     
    His eyebrows rose. “You said it was not terrible.”
     
    “It hurts a little.”
     
    He frowned. “Bee stings hurt. Do not lie to save my feelings.” He kissed her hand once more before letting it go and reaching for the champagne bottle. He pulled it from the ice, then stared at it.
     
    “Peel the foil off, then untwist the little wire cage and take it off. Then gently work the cork out with your thumbs.” Poor Alrik. His years trapped in Valhalla had left him a little low on skills, but he was a quick study and Calleigh didn’t care anyway. He was sweet and wonderful and all that mattered was that he was no longer enslaved to the horrid goddess of love. What a piece of work that woman was.
     
    Calleigh had only run into her once, but from that experience and everything Alrik had told her, Calleigh had sussed out enough to know that she was nothing like most people might have imagined. She was no angelic creature dispensing love potions while surrounded by flowers and blue birds. Instead, she was a mercurial creature of whims and wayward passions. As Alrik had explained it, the goddess controlled many types of love. Love of money, love of power, love of self. For what the goddess had done to Alrik, and for other reasons best left in the past, Calleigh had no use for her.
     
    The pop of the cork caught Calleigh’s attention and she looked up.
     
    The cork smacked her in the eye. “Ow!” She clamped her bee-stung hand over her face. “You have to watch where you point that thing.”
     
    “I pointed it away from you and toward the ceiling. I don’t know how that happened, unless…” Alrik glanced at the ceiling briefly, then slipped the bottle back into the ice bucket.
     
    Stars danced in her vision. “It must have ricocheted. I know you didn’t mean it.”
     
    Alrik growled. “Something is not right.”
     
    “Everything’s fine. I’ll be fine. Just a few mishaps. These things happen.” She squeezed his hand with her good one. “Pour us some champagne and let’s have a toast.”
     
    He did as she asked and handed her a flute, filling hers then one for himself before returning the bottle to the bucket.
     
    She lifted her flute. “Here’s to our first Valentine’s Day, the first of many.”
     
    He raised his glass to hers. “I love you, Calleigh lass, no matter what.”
     
    She clicked her glass against his. He had such a funny way of saying things sometimes. “I love you too.”
     
    He pulled her close to his side, his arm draped around her shoulders and they rode in companionable silence as the limo swept them over the Brooklyn Bridge and into the city. The building lights sparkled as they zipped past and Calleigh forgot the injuries to her hand and face. Tonight was going to be