Viking King (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors, Book 1) by Sky Purington

and immersed in a culture she’d only ever dreamt about. Metal, bowl-shaped chandeliers dangled on long chains from the ceiling, fire crackling within. Not only round shields but a variety of weapons hung on the walls.
    The music, food, smells and people saturated her almost as well as the steady gaze of the king. Only several moments into the great hall and she’d sensed his eyes on her. The moment her gaze turned to the head table, his eyes had locked with hers and everything else fell away.
    The rest was history.
    Now she sat on his lap with his strong arm wrapped around her.
    And it all might have been halfway bearable in a, ‘damn this man is hot and sitting on his lap is a very bad idea’ sort of way if he hadn’t decided to remove the fur cloak from his broad shoulders. Ripped, muscles poured down his tattooed arms, chest, and abs. Regrettably, or not , he was so overheated that his already snug tunic clung tightly and left little to the imagination.
    If all that wasn’t bad enough, he’d sported an overly impressive erection from the second she joined him. But then he’d had another woman sitting here just before her, didn’t he? And she was determined to keep that thought at the forefront.
    Naðr was a womanizing man just like any other.
    Now he’d seen her stone and shared it with his brothers. Attention still focused on what Kol just said about all three brothers being committed to women from another time, she made to speak. When she did, Naðr’s finger came to her lips and he pulled her closer, hot breath by her ear when he said, “Say nothing more. I will explain later.”
    Before she could respond, he pulled away, leaned close to Kol and said something far more scathing in his brother’s ear based on his response. Meanwhile, Raknar eyed her with more curiosity than before. This brother was far different than the others. Just as handsome with his classic blond haired, blue eyed Nordic features, he struck her more contemplative though still eager for adventure and conquest.
    So Kol wanted women. Raknar wanted glory. And Naðr? Hard to say. For now, based on his never-ending arousal, she’d say he wanted her .
    Megan continued to drink the strong, warm ale and tried to ignore the steely thigh beneath her. She tucked the stone back into her cleavage and mulled over his reaction to it. What did he know? Because he obviously knew something and it was enough to make Kol do away with his harem and Raknar enjoy his drink with a whole new gleam in his eye.
    For a split second, she actually relaxed into her situation until Naðr’s hand snaked into her hair and his gaze once more focused on her face. Something about his undivided attention made her both wary and aroused. Wary because he was far too intense and sexual. In fact, she’d about had enough of the steady glares she’d been receiving from women since he’d pulled her onto his lap. And of course aroused because…well, that was obvious. The man wasn’t necessarily made of charm but most definitely of tempered control and streamlined sensuality. Pretty lethal combo. At least for her.
    Megan got the impression that he laid with women often, gave them far more than they knew they wanted, then moved on. He wasn’t the sort to invest his heart and she wondered why. But then the very position he held might explain much. Being a king over men such as these would take a certain sort of nature. One made of grit and steel. Not of romance and love.
    Now he seemed to be making a project out of digging his hands into her hair because her thick curls wouldn’t allow for anything else. There’d be no sifting fingers through billowing locks with her. And she suspected the longer she remained in this cool, humid climate the worse it would get.
    “You’ve the look of the goddess Freyja about you,” he murmured, seemingly mesmerized by her hair and eyes. “Wild. Like sex and war all at once.” As seemed to be his way, Naðr’s startling blue eyes tried to