TimeSlip by Caroline McCall

had
let them hurt her and that bastard Raoul was still free. The taste of failure
was bitter in his mouth.
    The other women he had known paled into insignificance
beside her. His sweet, brave, beautiful Ingrid. What cruel twist of fate could
allow two people to fall in love and then put five hundred years between them?
This whole thing was impossible. He had to face it. He was no good for Ingrid.
They could have no future together. As soon as this mission was over, he was
out of her life for good, or he would end up hurting her more than he already
had.

Chapter Five
     
    Ingrid woke up in her bedroom with a thumping headache. The
blue bedside clock, vaporized by Strom, had been replaced by a singing chicken
alarm clock. Someone was really trying to piss her off, probably Finn. That was
her first task. When she was vertical again, she was going to kill Finn.
    Bearing in mind that it was eight p.m., the apartment was
eerily quiet. She tried to lift her head from the pillow and found that she
couldn’t. The memories hit her like blows from a hammer—Barbara’s dead body,
Raoul’s fist as he struck her and the smell of burning flesh. Then she
screamed.
    They surrounded the bed in less than thirty seconds. Four
gorgeous guys, all looking as if they cared about her. Finn was crying, and
even Pete, the shyest of them, kissed her on the cheek and welcomed her home.
Strom hung back until the others left.
    “What happened to me? I was…”
    “Shhh.” The viking stroked her face.
    “I thought I told you not to Shhh me.”
    The viking managed a weak smile. “I’ll leave you to get some
rest.”
    “No,” she protested. “I don’t want to be alone. Please,
Strom.”
    A flicker of indecision crossed his face and she thought he
was going to leave. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his
shoes. She felt his weight on the bed beside her and his arm crept around her
and he pulled her against him.
    “Oh, Ingrid,” he sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”
    She suppressed the desire to giggle at the sheer irony of
it. She had finally got the viking into bed with her and she hadn’t the energy
to do anything about it.
    When she woke up, it was still dark and the viking was lying
beside her. Not under the quilt with her, that would have been too much to hope
for, but at least he was still lying on her bed.
    “Are you in pain, Ingrid?”
    “No,” she whispered, “I’m just a little bit cold.”
    Heaving a deep sigh, Strom rolled onto his side and gathered
her into his arms again. Ingrid snuggled against him. “Won’t you get cold out
there?”
    She heard a low rumble of laughter. “I’m a soldier, Ingrid.
I’m used to sleeping on rough terrain.”
    “But you’re not on duty now and it’s the middle of the
night. Please…”
    He rolled away from her and Ingrid heard the soft thud of a
shirt hitting the floor and the erotic hiss of a zipper. She was suddenly
feeling a whole lot better. The viking slid between the sheets and she was
startled by the heat of him. He was like a one-man furnace. He curved his arm
around her and pulled her against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat
against her cheek, slow and steady.
    “Strom, I remember about the museum, but…”
    “Ingrid, not tonight. I promise we’ll talk tomorrow.”
    He was still there when she woke. The sun was trying to
fight its way through the clouds and she caught the scent of coffee wafting
from the kitchen. She wriggled back into his arms, sighing happily.
    “Your hair tickles me,” he grumbled. She could feel Strom’s
hand trying to smooth her unruly curls away from his face.
    “And you take up more than half the bed.”
    His fingers raked through her hair, curling tendrils around
his fingers and letting them go. “I could always find another bed if you want,”
he offered.
    Ingrid rested her chin on his chest as she gazed up at him.
“Or some rough terrain. Try the Phoenix Park. It’s not far from here and I’m
sure the