One Night With The Valkyrie. Jane Godman

trend of her thoughts.

      “Why do you seem so real? Am I going mad?”

      Before Maja could answer, the door opened and the woman who had operated on the man’s shoulder to remove the bullet entered. Maja promptly faded into invisibility. She was aware of the man looking around him in surprise at her disappearance, but he said nothing. Apparently, mortals were smarter than she’d been led to believe. Maja wanted to hug him to express her gratitude. Maybe even kiss those perfectly carved lips. The problem with that idea was that she would have to tell Brynhild about it on her return to Valhalla. Honesty was high on the list of Valkyrie values. Lying, or hiding the truth, never occurred to Maja. Somehow, she didn’t imagine her sister would approve if she discovered kissing a human had been added to the growing list of crimes.

      Maja had only ever heard of one case of a Valkyrie breaking the Code. On her first mission, Silja had become separated from the group and had asked a mortal man for directions. On her return to Valhalla, Odin had ordered her execution, but Brynhild had intervened. Silja was now locked away in a tower in Valhalla, forced to spend the rest of her life in isolation. Maja wasn’t sure her own future held anything as lenient.

      “Ah, you’re awake.” The surgeon had a hearty, clipped manner of talking. “You passed out while I was removing the bullet. Since we don’t have access to anesthetic here, it’s often a relief when that happens.”

      “Is this a hospital?” the man asked.

      “No, although I am a doctor.” The woman held out her hand. “Edith Blair.”

      Maja watched as he took the hand and shook it. “I’m Adam Lyon. Thank you. You saved my life.”

      “Tarek tells me of your own heroism. He said he would have died in a ditch if it wasn’t for you. He has been talking of superheroes ever since.”

      Even though she was invisible, Maja held her breath. Would Adam—she wrinkled her nose at the strangeness of the name—give her away?

      “Maybe Tarek has been reading too many comic books?” he said.

      The frown on Edith’s face eased slightly. “Maybe. It’s very hard to provide a rounded education for these children. Even harder for Tarek, who has learning difficulties.”

      Briefly, a flash of pain crossed Adam’s features. Edith appeared not to notice it, and it was gone as fast as it appeared. Maja wondered why those words had provoked such a strong reaction in him. Learning difficulties? What did that mean?

      Edith shook her head. “I warned Tarek not to go out today, but that dratted dog of his escaped and he insisted on going out to find it.” She pursed her lips as she studied Adam. “I would normally suggest rest, but these are not normal circumstances. I’m surprised no one warned you about the dangers of this region for an American, Mr. Lyon.”

      “They did.” Adam’s face was expressionless. “I’m looking for someone and it’s likely he’s in this area.” With his good hand, he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and withdrew a photograph, which he held out to Edith. “This is my brother, Danny Lyon. Have you seen him?”

      She studied the picture carefully before shaking her head. “I’m sorry.” Her manner became brisk as she rose to her feet. “I’ll have someone drive you to the border with Lebanon in the morning. The worst of the fighting seems to be over, so you should be safe tonight. You’ve had a lucky escape, Mr. Lyon.”

      Maja made sure Edith was gone before she reappeared.

      “Invisibility is one of your more unsettling habits.” Adam’s expression was unreadable as he observed her.

      “You said that was your brother.” Maja pointed to the photograph. “Is he the American Lion?” Adam had said his own surname was Lyon. It was close enough. Perhaps all was not lost. It seemed safe to assume there was a connection.

      Adam regarded her through narrowed eyes. “Maja, even if you are a figment of my imagination, I am not going to help you steal my brother’s soul.”

      “I am not a figment of your imagination, and I do not steal souls,” she protested angrily. Leaning over the bed, she prodded him in the chest with one finger. “I escort the fallen to their next destination.”

      Adam appeared to find her anger amusing, a fact that stoked her fury even further. Grasping her wrist, he pulled her closer. “I don’t care what you do. Let’s leave my brother out of whatever the hell is going on in my screwed-up head.”

      Squirming to break free of his hold, she was conscious of his superior strength. Despite his injury and the pain he must be in, he held her easily.

      His nearness was having the strangest effect on her. Although she was still struggling to escape, she was no longer sure getting away from him was what she wanted. A strange sensation was sweeping through her, a combination of lassitude and excitement. The warmth of his touch seemed to seep into her bones. As Adam drew her toward him, she faced a decision: keep fighting, or give in to the promptings of her body. His lips were inches from hers, the smile that flitted across them too tempting to resist. Slowly, enjoying the flare of surprise in his eyes, she lowered her head and kissed him.

      * * *

      Adam decided that, at some point, he must have floated out of his own body and into a trance. His theory wasn’t finely tuned, but he had conjured up Maja back in the office building. Maybe out of shock or terror? A desire to escape the situation? Then, when the bullet was being extracted from his shoulder, it seemed he had developed the fantasy even further. He didn’t care how it had happened. There was no point trying to make sense of it. As dreams went, this was the sort he needed right now. Even a truckful of painkillers couldn’t have numbed the ache in his shoulder the way Maja’s kisses did. Her lips met his with shy, sweet promise. He’d forgotten what this sort of kiss was like. First-time kisses. Nervous kisses. Not-quite-perfect kisses.

      “I’ve never done this before.” She raised her head, a blush staining the creamy perfection of her cheeks. “Am I doing it right?”

      In response, he pulled her back down and took over. Adam had kissed many women in his life. As his lips met Maja’s he realized with a pang of sadness that this had become a meaningless activity to him. It served a purpose only as a lead-in to sex. But kissing Maja took him on a whole new adventure. Possibly it was the circumstances, the danger, almost dying, the fact that she couldn’t possibly be real...but this was the most erotic experience of his life. When he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, he sensed a moment’s hesitation before she tentatively returned his caress. A soft groan escaped him as he tangled his good hand in the silken mass of her hair. Liquid fire throbbed through his veins, sending a hit of heat straight to his groin. He had never wanted anyone the way he wanted this woman, this woman who was a fictional character from his fevered imagination.

      Maybe if I keep kissing her none of that will matter.

      The weight of her body pressing down on his was perfection. He never wanted to return to reality. He inhaled her scent. She smelled like spring meadows. As out of place in a Syrian war zone as...well, as a kiss with a Valkyrie. And she tasted like honey. He wanted to lick every part of her to find out if the rest of her body tasted as sweet. As he slid a hand over her shoulders and dipped lower into the back of her corset, tracking her spine, he marveled at the satin feeling of her flesh.

      Sometime later, he was never sure how it happened—to be honest, he didn’t really care—she nestled into the crook of his good arm on the bed next to him, her tempting Valkyrie curves pressed up against him as the kisses continued. He marveled at the way his brain was feverishly finding release from the nightmare he had endured.

      Since arriving in Syria he had witnessed the horror of shattered lives. This was a land of blood, pain and tears. And now he had come close to death himself. Was his resourceful mind creating this image of feminine loveliness to compensate for the hell of this place? Okay, if he was going to make her absolutely perfect, he might not have gone for the whole warrior-on-horseback theme. That was a kick in his psyche he hadn’t seen coming. But as fantasies went,