Authors: Carolyn Faulkner
Forever Wife (20 page)
As if to prove it to her, he transported their beautiful bed from the cabin on the edge of a lake in New Hampshire to a deserted tropical beach, then to the top of a mountain, and then to the middle of a dense jungle and back again, all within the blink of an eye.
Liz was amazed. She couldn’t really even begin to take it in, but she was just flabbergasted at what he could do.
“So, all your money… is it real or just an illusion?”
“No, that is real,” he sighed. “I
had to have something to entertain myself with over the years. I am still a Viking, but you can’t just go around lopping of heads these days. Someone would notice.”
“So you like to lop of corporate heads instead,” she said, smirking.
He shrugged. Guilty as charged. It was a cheap thrill, but satisfying.
Liz looked back at the exquisite diamond ring. Her answer hadn’t changed. She loved him, no matter who – or what – he was. But what could she possibly offer him? This man was not just a little older than her – he was older by centuries! Math had never been her strong suit, but she could add and subtract with the best of them. Vidar was eleven hundred and four or five years old, depending on when his birthday fell. By comparison, she was still an infant. No wonder he found so many opportunities to spank her! She would never catch up to him in wisdom or experience!
“I’m hungry,” she stated, jumping out of bed. “Let’s finish this discussion in the kitchen!” She tugged on a bathrobe, still clutching the precious ring box, and dashed out of the room.
Vidar followed her, but had taken the time – or perhaps he’d just used magic? – to dress. No wonder why he nearly always looked so impeccable! Oh, how she envied him that! What if she could learn magic – and she never had to set her hair again, or
exercise, or eat right – except, he was a stickler about right living. Why?
She brought a pot of oats to boil, stirring slowly as she added a scoop of brown sugar – just one – to the cereal. She divided it into two bowls, topping them with slices of a fresh peach and a light shake of cinnamon, knowing it was the way he liked it best. “Tell me, Vidar, if magic can keep you healthy, then why do you insist on eating only healthy foods?”
He chuckled, shaking his head at her. “I tell you that I can conjure up mountains of jewels, riches, take you to exotic lands, and all you’re thinking about is eating junk food!”
“It's a valid question,” she said, pouting slightly. She toyed with the lid of her ring box, never taking her eyes off the beautiful diamond.
“I put a protection spell on you before I left. That time I visited you in college.”
“You mean, when you spanked me in college.”
“The same. The protection spell should have kept you safe from harm, but somehow you managed to break your spine. Can you guess why?”
“Um… because I landed wrong?”
“No. Because you weren’t eating well. You weren’t sleeping well. Good health is a kind of magic, but it’s also science. You take care of yourself, and the magic works to help you. If you don’t take care of yourself, the magic weakens.”
She was humbled by the thought that he had been protecting her for longer than she had ever imagined. “Speaking of my back… it really hasn’t hurt since you gave me that back rub. Did you fix it?”
He nodded, then closed his eyes over a spoonful of oatmeal. She’d never known anyone to enjoy their oats quite like he did. Then she wondered if it was something that he remembered from his childhood, a millennium ago. Did peaches even grow in Iceland?
“It took several therapies, and I managed to heal your back, but not to make it so that it never happened. You still have a scar, although magic could hide it. It will always be there.”
“I’m not worried about the scar, Vidar. But, do you think I could go riding again some day?”
He grunted, nodding his head reluctantly. “It’s still dangerous,” he said.
“But if I eat my vegetables, you’ll let me, right?”
“Right.”
Liz jumped up and did a happy dance all around the kitchen. “I’m going riding, I’m going riding! Oh, Vidar, you’ve made me so happy! Can I put on my ring now? Please, can I? Can I?”
Vidar grabbed her up in his arms and hugged her, burying his face in her hair as he wept. He hadn’t realized just how important it was to him that she not be frightened by his ability, but that she accept him – all of him – just the way he was.
“Yes, Beth, my darling,” he said hoarsely. “Yes! Let’s get married. Immediately! Today, if you like.”
She put on the ring, not the least bit surprised that it fit perfectly. “Well, darling, yes, I will marry you, but I want a bit of time to plan my wedding. Please? I only plan to get married once, you know, so I want everything to be perfect.”
“I can make it perfect,” he started.
“Yes, but I don’t even know
what
I want yet, so let me think about it. And I want Tracy to be my maid of honor. Whom would you like to ask to be your best man?” Her expression immediately dimmed as she cradled his face between her palms. “Oh, you poor dear. How many friends you must have buried through the years. I cannot imagine how hard that must be for you.”
He nodded gruffly, then straightened and cleared his voice. “Well, yes, there is that. But not all my friends are mortal, darling. The Vardlokkers are not extinct.”
She giggled. “Of course not! Oh, I’m so happy, happy, happy! The only thing that would make me happier would be if I could open up a stables again. I’ve missed that! And, and… I could earn an income, too. I know you’re incredibly wealthy, and you might not understand this, but it’s important to me. I know you want to provide for me, and take care of me, and mostly, I love how that makes me feel, but by not having any income, I feel a bit like your love slave.”
“I would never –.”
“I never said you did, Vidar. Trust me, this is just something that happens. It’s probably the difference between a tenth century Viking and a twenty-first century woman.”
“Well then,” he said slowly, leading her towards the big picture window in the living room. He pointed toward the northeast, where their closest neighbor used to live. “You now own that property, and the next and the next. The buildings have already been razed. If you would like to build a stables on Lake Scrimshaw, you may. We will probably have to speak with the town authorities about building codes, and some people are going to be devastated that the casino won’t be going through… but this is your decision, darling.”
“Oh, I’ve got a lot of thoughts about that, too. I’d like to run them past Tracy, if you don’t mind. I realize that Scrimshaw needs work, but it doesn’t have to cater to tourists. There are a lot of shepherds in the area, and I was thinking that maybe we could build a small fiber mill to process the fleece. Maybe include a shop front, where locals could sell their hand-spun wool, crocheted and knitted items, maybe even start a small company that manufactures spinning wheels. That way we could help build on the local economy without completely changing it. What do you think?”
“I think you’re brilliant,” Vidar said. “I’m glad I made you my partner. It’s not wise to be working with you on the other side.”
She kissed him, hugging him so tight it was a wonder he could even breathe. “I will marry you, Vidar Gulbrandt!”
“It’s a lot to ask of you, Beth,” he cautioned. “Vardlokkers, like wolves, mate for life. That’s why I’ve never offered myself to any other woman in that way. And if you accept this ring, you’ll be bound by the same rule. No other ceremony is necessary, although we will have whatever kind of wedding you like. But we will already be sealed to each other. We will never be parted.”
“And you’ll teach me to do magic, just like you. I don’t want to leave you, Vidar.”
“Elisabeth Da
gmar Shelburne, will you do me the honor or becoming my forever wife?”
“Oh, Vidar! I thought you’d never ask!”
THE END
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The words "spanking" and "discipline" have always sent a shiver up Carolyn Faulkner's spine.
She knows she's not alone.
Writing started as a way to explore her feelings. Soon short stories flowed from her pen featuring reluctant heroes taking the leading lady in hand, but always for her own good.
Today Carolyn is the author of dozens of books. She writes from her home in Maine, where she lives with her husband and leading man.
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