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One Night With The Valkyrie
Jane Godman
Falling for the immortal warrior princess… While tracking down his brother, billionaire Adam Lyon is struck dumb by a vision of a beautiful woman in armour. But when this vision comes to life, she turns his entire world upside down. Adam soon discovers that valiant Valkyrie Maja is indeed a dream come true, but their passion violates the laws of the gods.Maja brings heroic souls to Valhalla, so why did she spare one mortal man's life? Not only does that violate Odin's orders, but she soon finds herself swept up in an illicit desire for sexy Adam. Battling to save their very lives, the CEO and the shield maiden’s forbidden love hangs in the balance – as does the fate of the world…
Falling for the immortal warrior princess...
While tracking down his beloved brother, billionaire Adam Lyon is struck dumb by a vision of a beautiful woman in armor. But when this vision comes to life, she turns his entire world upside down. Adam soon discovers that valiant Valkyrie Maja is a dream come true, but their passion violates the gods’ laws.
Maja brings heroic souls to Valhalla, so why did she spare one mortal man’s life? Not only does that violate Odin’s orders, but she soon finds herself swept up in an illicit desire for sexy Adam. Battling to save their very lives, the CEO and the shield maiden find their forbidden love hangs in the balance—as does the fate of the world...
“I am not a figment of your imagination, and I do not steal souls,” Maja 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 and 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.
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 as the warmth of his touch seemed to seep into her bones. Adam drew her toward him, and she faced a decision: keep fighting or give in. His lips were inches from hers.
Slowly, enjoying the flare of surprise in his eyes, she lowered her head and kissed him.
JANE GODMAN writes in a variety of romance genres, including paranormal, gothic and romantic suspense. Jane lives in England and loves to travel to European cities that are steeped in history and romance—Venice, Dubrovnik and Vienna are among her favorites. Jane is married to a lovely man and is mum to two grown-up children.
One Night with the Valkyrie
Jane Godman
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
I love paranormal romance. It’s a genre in which everything is supercharged—including the romance. Additional powers, other worlds, magic and danger... All those things provide both readers and writers with a minivacation from reality.
This story is dedicated to my fellow paranormal-romance lovers, who encourage me to keep building fantasy worlds and creating larger-than-life characters. Thank you for your support!
Contents
Cover (#u30d8435b-744f-52b0-8abf-0c4460529a56)
Back Cover Text (#u5591640b-8e99-5c37-a149-e357876dbe27)
Introduction (#u1bffb3d6-59b7-5daa-a3cd-6abb683c7ddb)
About the Author (#ud43e505c-d226-5477-9c0e-b5e33f2d02a6)
Title Page (#ue07a4409-b4a3-597f-aaa7-0124629404a8)
Dedication (#u7abd8894-d3f4-5d27-8d93-24e1b945b92c)
Chapter 1 (#u2b8ea967-d67d-5de5-898e-c0b8d855a845)
Chapter 2 (#u8eff9bbd-a453-558f-80e7-b7cc0304c409)
Chapter 3 (#ud72cc37b-b089-5a93-b6c8-6327d29588e6)
Chapter 4 (#u35e1d5f9-d797-558c-b852-e01d1669c679)
Chapter 5 (#ua9b4c728-6b4f-566b-b830-51f0b52fda62)
Chapter 6 (#u9ab9089f-e4cb-5bad-8ad9-bc040f18c809)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#u9723b41f-6060-5634-8f6e-dc7ed6b82fba)
Adam Lyon had dodged many bullets in his life. Until now, they had always been of the conversational variety. For the first time ever, the fire and fury being unleashed around him was not in a boardroom...and it was not of his own making.
He thought of his time in Syria in numbers. Two weeks. Seven towns. Ten uncomfortable hotel beds. Fifteen thousand dollars. One question his guide had asked over and over.
“Where is the American called Lyon?”
Despite its seriousness, the question had become a source of amusement between Adam and his guide, Yussef. Something to lighten the darkness of their mood. As they toured the Damascus bars with Danny’s picture in one hand and a wad of American money in the other, Adam had joked that at least Yussef had made it clear they were seeking a Western mercenary, not a man-eating beast from the United States.
The answers—or half answers and hints—he got in one of those bars had brought him north to this desolate, shelled-out town called Warda. They were the reason he was now crouched in the corner of a half-ruined, empty office building with all hell raging outside. His arrival had coincided with an intense new outbreak of fighting.
Yussef had brought him to this building, the deserted workplace of one of his friends. The terrified guide had advised Adam to hide here while he attempted to negotiate a way out of town. He explained that Warda was the center of an ongoing battle for supremacy between ultrahardline government fighters and radicalized rebels.
And you walked into the middle of this place before you checked that out. Nice going, Lyon.
That had been an hour ago, and Yussef had not yet returned. Adam might have known the guy for only two weeks, but Yussef didn’t seem the type of person to run out on his responsibilities. Apart from anything else, Adam hadn’t paid him for his services, and he knew Yussef had a young family to feed. No, he had a horrible feeling about the reason why Yussef had not come back. His only hope had been killed, injured or captured. Which left Adam on his own. Not a new situation, but not one he had ever faced with bombs and bullets going off all around him.
As an American in Syria, Adam had known all along he was kidnap fodder for both sides in the ongoing conflict. He hadn’t entered into this trip lightly, and hadn’t gotten into this country easily. It had been a question of weighing his own safety against the need to find his brother. In those circumstances, Danny would always come first. A year ago, Danny had volunteered with a medical charity and come to Syria. Now, as the ground beneath his feet shook in time with the explosions just outside the building, and his ears rang in protest, he realized that kidnapping wasn’t his most immediate problem.
I am in so much trouble here. Now there are two missing Lyon brothers, and no one back home knows where either of us is.
The thought galvanized him and he got to his feet, pleased to find his legs were steady. There was no point sitting here waiting for death. May as well head on out and meet it face-to-face.
As he staggered toward what remained of the front door of the building, the shooting outside intensified. Something else happened at the same time. Everything got suddenly darker and a whole lot weirder.
Automatically assuming the change was caused by dust from the explosions, Adam rubbed his eyes to clear them. It didn’t help. If anything, his vision darkened even further.
This is it, he decided. I’ve been hit. They say you don’t always feel pain.
He was about to grope around his body for a bullet wound when the door flew inward and a black cloud filled the foyer.
“What the...?” Chemical weapons. I am so screwed.
The amorphous mass of darkness that had poured into the space began to shift. Within the quivering cloud, Adam could make out three winged figures. Although their features were indistinct, they were female and they were on horseback.
Hallucination. But what a way to go.
One of the figures moved slightly ahead of the others, materializing more fully. Her voice echoed in the small space. “I seek the American Lion.”
Adam decided he may as well go along with his own delusion. That whole lion joke between him and Yussef had clearly taken a grip on his imagination. “That makes two of us. If you find him first, tell him his brother said ‘hi.’”
Fascinated, he watched as the forms manifested themselves completely. His senses seemed to be heightened to the point where he could observe every detail of the illusion in front of him.
The horses’ coats shone like satin as they plunged and reared with restless energy. Adam was only mildly surprised when each animal unfurled giant wings at the same time as it snorted steam and pawed the ground. This was all going on inside his head, after all, so why should anything that happened come as a shock to him?
The woman who had spoken dismounted and took a step closer to him. Adam took a moment to congratulate himself on the quality of this fantasy. Two weeks of enforced celibacy had clearly done wonders for his imagination. It also seemed he might have a previously unexplored warrior-princess fetish.
This tall, slender vision possessed silken skin, impossibly blue eyes and flowing, gold hair. She and her companions were dressed in identical silver helmets adorned on either side with decorative wings, and a tight scarlet corset over which was fastened a fish-scale breastplate. Each of them wore a cloak made of feathers so pure and white they could only have come from the breast of a swan. They carried shields and spears, and had short swords in sheaths strapped at their waists.
In other circumstances, Adam might have spent more time enjoying this visual feast. Since Armageddon seemed to be unfolding in the street outside, he didn’t have another minute to waste. It couldn’t be wrong to barge past a figment of your own imagination, could it? As he took a step forward, the woman placed an unexpectedly solid-feeling hand on his chest, halting him.
“I am Maja, Valkyrie shield maiden.” She spoke clearly enough to be heard over the sound of automatic gunfire. The echoing note had gone and her voice sounded almost normal, although her accent was hard to place. “I must take the bravest of the fallen back to the great hall of Valhalla.”
As Adam gazed into Maja’s incredible eyes, trying to decide how his mind had endowed a make-believe creation with so much detail, one entire wall of the building collapsed.
Although his body was intact—there were no bullet wounds, after all—this shock-induced delusion hit him hard. Dark spots danced at the edges of his vision as dizziness overtook him and the dust scented floor rose up to meet him as he sprawled at Maja’s feet.
* * *
The man facing her with an expression of bewilderment clouding his handsome features was not a warrior. He was clad in pants made from a faded, heavy-duty blue cloth and a lightweight, khaki jacket, under which he wore one of those garments she had heard described on other earthly visits as a T-shirt. On his feet were scarred and dusty boots. Not combat clothing, Maja decided. He carried no weapons. More importantly, he was alive.
Maja wasn’t interested in living people. Her task was simple. Odin the Allfather wanted the souls of the bravest warriors who died in battle. They would join his army-in-waiting. The role of the Valkyries was to swoop into the scene of conflict and escort those souls to Valhalla, the great Hall of the Slain, within which Odin’s elite fighting force lived.
This land called Syria had recently become a scene of such great strife that even the Valkyries had turned their attention in this direction. Although their chosen warriors were usually Norsemen, Odin wanted the finest for his army. If that meant widening their search, then his shield maidens must follow the Allfather’s will. Brynhild, the Valkyrie leader, who was also Maja’s older sister, had been at the end of her wits as she planned this mission. There was desperate fighting going on in two places at the same time and Odin’s demands were becoming more difficult to fulfill.
“The American Lion.” Brynhild had shaken her head as she pored over her charts. Finding the bravest warriors wasn’t an exact science. Brynhild could predict where each fighter would be; she had an idea of the danger they would face, but she couldn’t be certain who would die. Odin remained insistent. Only the best would do for his army.
“One name crops up over and over in the stars. The Allfather is determined to have the warrior known as the American Lion. The Norns tell me he will be here in the town of Warda—” Brynhild had pointed to a dot on her map “—and there will be intense fighting there today.” She had moved her finger to another location, also in Syria, but many miles away. A frown descended on her face. “Yet there will be ten other warriors, all of whom Odin wants, in this other town at the same time. Each of them is less likely to survive than the American Lion. Do I risk the chance at ten warriors on the gamble that the American Lion will die today?”
“Why don’t I go to Warda, while you take the other town?” Maja had said.
It would be a chance to prove herself. To step out from beneath the shadow of her older sisters. The skepticism in Brynhild’s eyes as Maja had made the suggestion told her everything she needed to know.
I am still seen as the baby of the family.
It was always the same. Maja was the youngest of the true Valkyries. The twelve true daughters of Odin made up the group of female fighters whose job was to claim the finest souls for their father.
There was a hierarchy among the ranks of the Valkyrie. For many centuries Odin’s daughters had been the only ones considered worthy to bear the title of shield maidens. As the population of the mortal realm grew and humans became more adept at finding ways to kill each other, Odin had widened the numbers of Valkyrie to include faeries, dryads and nymphs. Known as his stepdaughters, these new recruits were of lesser rank than Odin’s own flesh and blood.
Yet I am treated like a new recruit! Like a stepdaughter, rather than a true daughter.
Maja knew she was seen as a problem to be solved. She was that unheard of a rarity...a disobedient Valkyrie. Most of her rebellion took the form of minor insurgencies, such as wearing her helmet at the wrong angle or arriving for training a few minutes late. Now and then, however, she had been known to use the worst word of all. She had asked why. There were regular how-do-we-solve-a-problem-like-Maja conversations between Odin and Brynhild. They didn’t know what to do with their bad Valkyrie.
Maja had no idea why she was different. One of the difficulties about being the daughter of gods was that her parents were not exactly approachable. Growing up, she did her best to conform, tried to fight the desire to question why the Valkyrie way was the best way and accepted her punishment when she inevitably failed.
She was never given the same level of responsibility as her sisters, even though she had demonstrated her capabilities over and over. It made her more determined than ever to show them what she could do.
After some intense debate, she had worn Brynhild down. Even as she mounted her great winged steed, Magtfuld, Maja got the feeling her sister was indulging her, allowing her to have her own way, but not expecting anything of her. It infuriated her that Brynhild might think she wasn’t up to this simple task. She had arrived in Warda fired up and ready to take this American Lion back so she could lay his body in triumph at the feet of the Allfather.
It was intensely annoying to arrive at the location Brynhild had given her to be confronted by the wrong man. A living, breathing man. A man who, now that she looked more closely at him, dared to have a hint of amusement in his dark brown eyes alongside the perplexed expression he wore. It was as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.
Those eyes made Maja pause. Maybe it was because she had never interacted with a living human being until now. Maybe it was because they were so incredibly beautiful. Whatever it was, she wished she had more time to spend looking into them.
When he fell, she experienced an unexpected dilemma. Her hand had actually twitched with the impulse to reach out and help him up. Luckily, he had hauled himself to his knees before she had forgotten herself and touched him.
“This has been fun.” He had to shout to be heard above the chaos around them. “But I think it’s time I was going.”
As he spoke, a group of men wearing dark clothing and carrying machine guns burst in through the damaged wall. They carried a white flag that bore a painted image of a hooded, grinning skeleton carrying a scythe. Putting his words into practice, the man darted out the open front door and into the main street of the small town. His action left Maja with a scant second in which to react. Since the American Lion was not where he was supposed to be, she should probably leave Warda right now. That would be the Valkyrie way. But the man had mentioned his brother. Did that mean he had further information? Was his brother the American Lion?
“Go to Brynhild.” She issued the order to her companions, ignoring their disapproving looks. She was the shield maiden in charge on this mission. They would not dare voice their reservations out loud. “Tell her I have been delayed, and that I will rejoin her at Valhalla later.”
Obediently, the two Valkyrie departed. The fighters who had entered the house paused in astonishment to watch the winged horses rise into the air. Within seconds, the Valkyrie and their steeds had become a swirling cloud. Less than a minute later, they had disappeared. Maja’s own horse would remain hidden in the shadows until she needed him.
