The mattress moving underneath me was what stirred me out of the deep sleep I'd fallen into. I wasn't ready to wake up, though, so I wriggled against it with a frown. It was so warm, and firm, and...trying to make its way out from under me.

Which wasn't something mattresses did.

Confused, I blinked my eyes open. They landed on intricate drawings of ink and the warm skin beneath them. I was half hauled up over Ulrik, covering part of him like a blanket. The lulling sound of his heart was right under my ear, strong and regular. Now that I was more conscious, I realized he was discreetly trying to remove himself from there without waking me up.

With unfocused eyes, I looked up to meet his gaze, which was already on me.

"There you are," he murmured, bringing a hand up to graze my cheekbone with his thumb. "Hi..."

"Hi."

His naked body against mine was enough to spark some desire within me, especially with his solid thigh pressed on my core. The effect this man had on me was beyond ridiculous.

Since I didn't trust my morning breath, I fought the desire to kiss him good morning, and flattened my lips onto his chest instead. As I began dropping more kisses onto his tattooed skin, I made my intentions crystal clear, writhing my hips, sliding my core against him.

"Kjære," he groaned, disapproving. My hand reached down his stomach, grasping his hardening shaft. "You had to wake up earlier for this."

"I'm awake now."

He reached for my wrist, which he pulled away from his growing erection. "As much as I would love to stay in bed with you all day, I'm afraid I need to get ready."

"For what? It's Saturday," I mumbled, pressing myself tighter onto him, still dropping kisses on his chest.

"I have two dozen people in New York who don't care about that. My abrupt departure has caused a few problems that need handling. And I couldn't quite do that yesterday."

I grimaced, understanding that the situation was indeed more important than satisfying my libido. My attempt at seducing him stopped at once, looking up instead to meet his gaze.

The thought had been far from my mind until this moment, but now that it was, I wondered just how bad things were because of it. "Do you—do you regret leaving like you did to get me?"

"Oh, definitely."

My jaw dropped open, half amused and half scandalized. But before I could say anything, he continued, "I'd much rather be doing what you have in mind than spending my afternoon locked in my office to put out the fires I've lit."

"Well, we can get back to this when you're done," I reassured him, kissing his chest one last time before freeing him from my hold.

But he wasn't so ready to let go, it seemed, since his arm underneath me came against my back to bring me closer. He lowered to kiss me, intently pressing his lips on mine.

As soon as things heated a little too much, he pulled away with a groan.

"Later."

Adamant not to let temptation win, he slid me away from him and pushed himself off the bed in a supple move. Rising to my elbow, I watched his amazing back and ass as he walked out of my room naked, pressing my lips together to hide my excited smile. Later...

I let myself fall back on the pillow, grinning like an idiot. With everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, I should have been drowning in questions and doubts. Whiplash should have thrown me out of my mind by a few miles.

But for some reason, I was... content. I wasn't lost, wasn't confused, and wasn't regretting any of it. It just felt too natural, too good.

Now that we weren't fighting that desire that bound us, now that we weren't trying to push each other to keep some distance, things were smooth and perfect. Although, it had barely been half a day yet, and most of it had been spent sleeping or having sex. Hopefully, these first few hours were a good sign, and not the calm before the storm.

Since my one reason to stay in bed was gone, I forced myself to get out of it. I had some work to do as well, and since I couldn't spend the afternoon with a Viking hunk between my legs, I'd spend it reading Viking manuscripts instead. After I'd fished out some clothes from my suitcase and gotten ready, I grabbed my phone and exited the room. It was nearly one in the afternoon already, which explained why there had been no time to fool around.

The eggs were just done cooking when he emerged from the bedrooms hallway; looking like the very serious businessman he was. Two plates awaited with toasts and ham, as well as glasses of orange juices and mugs filled with coffee. Careful not to break the yolks, I slipped two eggs into each plate with the spatula, and then went to put the pan back onto the turned off stove.

"You work fast, woman," he appreciatively told me as he came further into the room, adjusting the cuff of his light blue shirt under his gray jacket.

"I figured the quicker you get to work, the faster you'll be off."

He had reached me, his tall body clad in an expensive suit. Gosh, the duality of this man was uncanny. Naked-Ulrik looked like a sexy brute who wielded axes and owned a Harley Davidson, but suit-Ulrik looked like he bought entire corporations on a daily basis. Both of them made me so damned wet.

His hand fattened over my hip, his warmth instantly seeping through the slim fabric of my pencil skirt. Seductively, he slowly bent toward me, his minty breath tickling my nostrils. I'd taken a moment to brush my teeth too, so I confidently allowed him to breathe me in as I breathed him. He brought his lips so close to mine that they lightly touched.

"And what plans do you have for when I'm off, Miss Connelly?"

"Getting railed into next week, Mr. Westergaard." His small, satisfied smile disappeared behind my kiss.

During our brunch, I excitedly told him I would finally enter the archive room, to which he gave me a few tips on what to start with. Engrossed in our conversation, we paid poor attention to the time passing. With a glimpse at his watch, though, he realized he was late for his first meeting. After a quick peck on the lips, he left me on my stool before walking with long strides to his office.

Less than ten minutes later, I was downstairs, standing before the wide door of the glass room. Since Reggie couldn't enter the strictly regulated room, I'd left him upstairs, sleeping on the couch. Excitement was bubbling in my veins, making my skin tickle and my breathing quicken. Pandora's box was about to be opened, and there would be no going back.

When I pulled on the heavy door, the first thing that struck me was the rich smell of old paper and leather. I'd spent enough time in the museum's archive room to know it well, but here, it was particularly strong. The state-of-the-art preservation room had probably made it so. I inhaled deeply as I stepped in, closing my eyes to focus on all the nuances of it. It smelled like history, knowledge, and ancient times.

How fun!

With my hands behind me so I wouldn't be tempted to touch anything, I made a first tour of the room, a recon mission of sorts, to get a sense of the marvels awaiting me. I easily spotted the works Ulrik had mentioned, all grouped on one particular shelf. There was also a flat counter covered by a glass case, and beneath it, ancient scrolls that were rolled open to relevant passages.

Gosh, I'd almost missed seeing all this!

Exhilarated, I went to fetch my silk gloves and slipped them on, ready for my nerdy exploration. The first codex I picked up was heavy in my hands, its pages yellowed by the centuries, its leather cover burnished by all the hands that had held it. I walked to the reading table set in the middle of the room, admiring the details of the book's exterior. Although I was used to handling such priceless works, I always did so with the utmost carefulness. It deserved reverence and gentleness.

A few pages were enough to understand what exactly this codex was about, making a shocked breath come out of me. This was worth even more than I'd thought. How could Ulrik own this? Not just how had he found it, but how could he think it was okay to keep something like this to himself, rather than share it with scholars and historians? Before I allowed myself to dwell on the question of his selfishness, I dove deeper into the words inked on the pages.

This was a journal maintained by men of faith, logging the events in Norwich, from somewhere in the mid-ninth century to—carefully, I closed the book and turned it around, so I could see the last pages of it—well into the thirteenth century.

Shit, almost five centuries of history, most of it lost or unknown, logged in extensive details. And in the heart of what used to be East Anglia, one of the Viking's favored playgrounds. Norwich had even been considered an Anglo-Scandinavian town back then, because of how many Danes had settled there. Their influence had shaped the town of today, in subtle ways like the street patterns.

Almost vibrating with excitement, I looked for a date in particular, skimming the pages from the year 1004. There! The invasion and destruction of the city by Sweyn Forkbeard, a king of Denmark, and his viking army.

I'd expected to skim through most of the works in there, but I found myself returning to the very first page to begin a careful reading of it. With my laptop set up near me, I took notes about details I deemed important, as well as photographs of the pages with my tablet. Even though I was used to reading such findings, the old language and the stylized letters were straining for the eyes and mind, forcing me to pause for a moment half an hour in. It would take entire days to read all this, and it was only one book among hundreds.

Ulrik's collection was truly insane, large enough to warrant a whole year of studying it all. But I had to manage in the little time I was allowed.

Although... If we were to keep seeing one another in the future, if somehow we could make a relationship work between us, I'd keep access to all of this. If he truly was the great man I suspected, if we found harmony and satisfaction in being together, then all of this was a great side bonus.

But if we weren't meant to be, then I'd have to say goodbye to all this as well. And as painful as the thought was, I wouldn't compromise my standards for this.

Even as I sat in this room full of priceless knowledge, still somewhat sore from all his ministrations, still so content with how things had unfolded, I knew I ought to stay true to my principles.

I was worth more than an ancient library and bomb sex. It was a good start, but hopefully, Ulrik had a lot more to offer than just that.