...Birgir leaned forward and ran his thumb up and down the length of her index finger, then her middle finger, then her ring finger. A shiver of pleasure chased the length of Teri’s spine as he caressed the tip of her thumb.

“Depends on woot ye fancy,” he replied, his eyes fixed on her hand. “There are plenty of churches, shops, pubs…castles.” His eyes lifted and met hers. “Have ye noticed we have castles here?”

Teri chuckled. “Only one or two.”

Birgir grinned back and grasped her fingers. “There are probably more castles in Minnesota than here.”

“Yeah, there’s one in the middle of every lake.”

“Aye.” He nodded. “Thought so.”

“Then you’ve heard of Minnesota.”

“In another lifetime I may have been in Minnesota.”

She looked him up and down. “As a Viking warrior?”

“Not as a warrior. A shipbuilder.” He circled her knuckles with his thumbs. “Paying very close attention to every detail on her.”

“Her?”

“The ship. It’s always a she.”

“Right.” Her voice threatened to disappear as she felt their bodies slowly leaning forward, drawn together.

With her eyes still locked on Birgir’s blue-gray gaze, Territory sat forward until their knees touched. Her heart was pounding as she felt the moment slowly inch from casual conversation to something wordless and much more heated and primal. She wanted him closer, his arms around her, her fingers in his hair, his lips to hers.

“I should get some extra blankets,” Birgir said. He cleared his throat and squeezed her knee gently, then immediately apologized. “I forgot about your bruises.”

Teri rose with him. “It’s more my hip than anything,” she said, looking down. Her tangled hair fell over her shoulder, her lip catching a few strands.

This was crazy. She was acting like she hadn’t got laid in six months, which may have been true, but she didn’t need to act like it.

Birgir reached up and brushed Teri’s hair back from her face, his fingertips teasing the shell of her ear. His gentle action garnered her attention, and in one steady gaze, Teri knew he wanted her with greater urgency than his actions revealed.

“I didna pull ye from the water expecting anything in return,” he murmured, caressing her earlobe.

“I know. I wasn’t expecting anything either.” She sighed, her hands balling into fists around his shirt as she drew herself nearer.

“But ye want it?” he asked, his lips against her ear.

“Yes, I want it. I want you.”

Immediately she smelled him, a mixture of seawater, sawdust, and his own masculine scent. Her breath hitched as Birgir’s soft lips pressed against hers, a slow, tender kiss that left her knees weak. She was surprised at how soft his goatee felt against her skin, his whiskers tickling her and piquing her senses until all she wanted to do was unravel in his arms.

A little sigh escaped as Birgir grazed his thumb along her jaw from her earlobe to her chin.

Lips parting slowly, Teri deepened the kiss and tasted him. Her hands explored his defined chest through his soft cotton shirt, fingers pressing to muscle. He had the body of a laborer, his arms strong, shoulders sinewy and chest rock hard, begging to be licked and kissed.

“Say it again,” he said against her lips.

“I want you,” she told him.

Birgir kissed her hard, his breath hot against her face as her hands slipped under his shirt and touched the light dusting of hair along his midsection. His stomach tightened as her fingernails skimmed down to his belt.