Chapter 4

Thor blinked himself awake, feeling heavy and unrested.

Was it any wonder?, he grumbled in his head, with that vixen on the floor beside him. He ran a hand over his eyes and groaned, knowing that sooner or later, he'd have to get up. He was not looking forward to it.

He rolled his hand from his eyes and let his head loll to the side. Perhaps a glimpse a glimpse of Imogen's sleeping face would set him in rights. Sleeping - where she wasn't arguing, defying, refusing, bold or tempting him in any way...he elbowed his way to the mattress's edge, expecting to see Imogen splayed out in white on the floor beside him.

His heart stopped. All he saw was the folded pile of his sheets beside his bed.

"What..." his lips murmured, just milliseconds before he scrambled from the bed, kicking his boots on and storming round to her side of the structure.

Not a trace of her was to be found.

Then the anger blazed. He let out a roar and called Mjolnir to his outstretched hand, armour melting over his body. He tore on the breast and back plates with a heavy clunk from where he'd left them the night before, all the while his teeth gritted hard.

That woman!, he yelled in his head as he tore from his chambers. How could she just leave? Not even waiting until he rose, as if he didn't matter to her one bit... he would find her. And he would make her regret how she abandoned him so easily. He wasn't sure if it was his lack of sleep or his sudden possessiveness since he'd raised Imogen's status, but he was infuriated. He'd done her a favour and this was how she repaid him. By walking out?!

He would not stand for it. And he found her in the most despicable place imaginable: cleaning the courtrooms.

He stormed through the doors with a deadly silence, surprising for his inner rage and the thunder that inevitably crashed outside. He was on a war path. He carved a path through the maids scrubbing the floor, making a bee line for the unmistakable waves of raven hair.

She was on her hands and knees with the rest of them, hand clenched around a wet cloth and rubbing in in circles over the marble floor. Thor's teeth gritted at the sight, her hair rippling over her back with her movements. She didn't even know he was there. He leaned forward and snatched her hand so the cloth fell away from her fingers. Her body jerked upright, the force pulling her back.

Her eyes shot up over her shoulder in alarm but when they fell on the prince's outraged face, they settled dryly.

Thor was practically spitting with rage. "No woman of mine works on her knees!" he hissed, fingers clenching tight around her wrist.

Imogen arched a sassy eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?"

Thor's eyes narrowed and he yanked her arm. How dare she talk to him like that!, he thought. The insolent little... he couldn't even find the words to finish the curse as he hauled her to her feet, marching to the door and practically dragging her with him.

She didn't struggle, she didn't fight him. Thor expected her to but she didn't. Maybe she wanted to avoid a scene. Maybe she was afraid of him. Maybe she physically couldn't, his merciless pace simply too strong to defy. Thor didn't care, and he didn't stop. He stormed her out the door until they were in the bare corridor and even then he showed no sign of slowing.

Not at least, until Imogen tugged her hand. She couldn't pull free, but it was enough to earn the god's attention, and he turned to glare at her.

Her eyes blazed. So that was what she wanted, Thor thought to himself. A battle of wills. He would ensure she never walked out on him again. He raised her wrist and pinned it to the wall behind them, body looming menacingly over hers.

"You leave when I tell you to, not when you yourself deem fit!" he hissed at her through gritted teeth, darkened crystal blue orbs bearing into hers hard.

She didn't back down. And Thor felt like hating her for it

But he couldn't. That defying edge in her eyes both frustrated and exhilarated him at the same time. It was like looking at himself.

"I did you a favour so you could leave behind this work, and this is how you repay me?! By sneaking off?"

Imogen squirmed under his hold, but Thor claimed her other wrist, holding them both at her sides, and it was useless. His body was close to hers, trapping her in place between him and the wall. Her violet gaze lifted to his, refusing to submit. "I want to actually work for some of what I earn." she explained calmly, though in a whispering voice. "Is it so wrong to want to do some honest labour for what I am receiving?"

"This is not what is expected -"

"I don't care what is expected." she cut him off, body pulling off the wall slightly in an attempt to gain herself some freedoms. "I am not your whore. You said you asked for nothing in return, yet here you are, acting like you own me."

The words hit into the god hard. A combination of hurt and blunt realisation that she was telling the truth, slammed into him, silencing any quick response. She was right. He was acting like that. And the worst bit; he did understand. Her proud nature didn't count deceiving the kingdom as sufficient means to acquire her finances for her mother's medicine. It was too much charity. She wanted to earn it, in one way or another. To work for something.

His hands slackened on her wrists as her defiant eyes bore into his. He'd lost his reasoning, gotten lost in the lie already.

She wasn't really his. Their arrangement was a deception; if it were real he'd have every right to be mad... but it wasn't. She wasn't his. She wasn't anybody's, let alone his. His heart clenched. It hurt ... but at the same time, it burned.

His teeth gritted again as the fire raged through his blood once more. She'd said it herself last night: if nothing more, he was the prince while she was a servant. He should not be treated like this by anyone. He still held that power over her, despite what they agreed for behind closed doors.

His body leaned forward, so he was growling inches from her mouth. "You forget your place."

"And what place is that?" Her body thudded back against the wall as he closed in and their chests touched. Her teeth were gritted too. "What makes you so much better than me? The blood that runs through my veins is the same colour as yours. The words you speak are the same as mine. What exactly makes you better than me when we are the same?"

His hand's closed tight around her defiant wrists again and thudded them back to the wall. Anger flared through him uncontrollably. He was losing himself again, consumed by this irrational rage.

"If you wish for this arrangement to continue, you must at least act as if it is real." he said, not answering her questions. Because he knew she was right. He loved his friends because they treated him as their equal. That was what he wanted; for him to be able to interact with people normally without the scraping and bowing and sucking up. He'd thought he'd liked it in Imogen too. Now he was not so sure.

He was too possessive, he knew, but he didn't care. The torment she'd caused him last night by her mere presence weighed heavily on his mind and body, the mere proximity of her lush body now flaring up his natural instincts again. This time, though, he didn't fight it. He didn't have the will.

He let his body ease forward, closing the gap between them so she could feel how much she was frustrating him.

Then something inside him snapped. He could practically hear the break of his spirit as his nether regions pressed against her, feeling his desire wash over him all over again. The contact gave him some sort of relief though, and he groaned quietly in satisfaction.

He just wanted her to know - he never expected her to respond!

Through his half hooded eyes, he caught her lips part and a silent gasp leave them, her head rolling back against the wall. The breath caught in his throat as her body instinctively arched against his, closing the gap between their chests again. All coherent thoughts left his head at the feeling of her flush against him, feeling every curve of her lush body moulding with him.

She was every bit as sensational as he'd imagined. His hand automatically dropped her wrist to find behind her waist, holding her against him as his hips continued to press into her to relieve him of the pressure within.

So this was what he'd been missing last night, he thought as his lips hovered close to her ear. And this was just holding her! Why the hell hadn't he just slept on the floor beside her? It was so worth sacrificing his pride and comfort for the sake of holding her body to his like this. He was in Valhalla!

Her hand fell down to his shoulder, nails clawing into his armour. He wished it wasn't there, so he could feel her fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulder instead.

He knew he had to gather himself somehow. They were in a corridor. They could get caught at any minute.

"Imogen."

It came out more as a sigh than he'd intended but Imogen didn't seem to notice. Her fingers crept up to his neck and Thor froze. Skin on skin was something else entirely. It was like he'd been shocked, something inside him just melting.

His hips eased harder into hers. It earned him a groaning whimper from Imogen's lips. When had her eyes closed?, he wondered.

Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to just scoop her up and whisk her straight back to his chambers.

He clung to his self-restraint painfully. "I will keep my word." he breathed into her ear, trying to summon the will to peel himself away from her. "I promised I would not take advantage of you, but you must keep up the pretence that we are indeed lovers. Do what I say."

By some miracle he managed to pull back from her slightly, until he was face to face with her again. Her eyes were fluttered shut, her cheeks flushed beautiful. Her lips were parted, so temptingly kissable.

His hips stayed fused with hers, the heat of her steadily warming body encasing him wondrously.

Her eyes slowly blinked back to his as the touch of his chest lifted from hers. Her body arched again of its own accord but Thor refused to surrender to temptation, knowing if he did he would never be able to leave. He kept the distance in place.

Her violet orbs swam back to focus. "No."

Thor's teeth gritted all over again. His hand found her abdomen and pressed her back against the wall hard, removing all contact of their torsos entirely.

"I do not want you to do this work anymore." he spelled out in a harsh voice. One most people wouldn't dare argue with. This was Imogen though. She wasn't most people. "Go back to my chambers and wait until your room is complete. This is not a negotiation, Imogen. Do what I say."

Her wrist struggling against the hand that pinned it to the wall. "I am not your whore. I thought we'd established that."

"This has nothing to do with your relationship to me." he growled back, tightening his grip on her wrist. "If I tell you to do something, you do it."

"I want to work!"

He wanted to be rid of her. Sure he wanted her - the unmistakable pressure in his groin confirmed that - but he wasn't sure how much longer he could bear just having her there when he couldn't touch her, couldn't take her as his. It drove him mad. He longed for the days where he could just take any woman he wanted, fulfil his needs and be clear of mind, without having her constantly stalking his consciousness, taunting him with her mere existence.

He knew he had every right to banish her from the palace let alone from just her false occupation at all the things she'd said to him so unashamedly.

But he knew he wouldn't.

His heart sank as he realised it. He wouldn't send her away, knowing it would condemn an innocent woman to her death if he did. He'd never even met Imogen's mother nor seen her illness, but the girl's desperation led him to know there would be no other outcome if she failed.

And besides - he'd still think off her even if she were all the way across the nine realms. There was only one way his curiosity would be satisfied.

And from that he was barred by his own oath.

Imogen was thrown forward as Thor tore his hands from her harshly, turning and storming down the corridor on a war path.

A soft thud behind him told him she'd had dropped to her knees. Weak from passion after they'd held each other? Numb with dread, maybe knowing she'd pushed him too far? Thor didn't care. The thud was music to his ears that he was not the only one receiving some sort of punishment.

Good, he thought with an inward snarl. Maybe she'd have bruised knees to accompany the worn hands and tired limbs her so cherished work would eventually give her.

He roared his frustration as he marched infuriated from the corridor, leaving his defiant working mistress in his wake.

Would his torment never end?!

Imogen stumbled back to her place amongst the cleaning maids, blazing with fury. She ignored the way her knees throbbed when she knelt back down on the hard marble surface, taking out her frustrations on her work instead. Her cloth ground into the floor so hard Imogen wondered if she'd carve a hole in it!

That arrogant, proud - she stopped herself quickly, biting her lips against the thoughts that might make her lose her control. Then she'd really be in trouble.

Not take advantage of her - and then hold his body against her like that?! That was far from innocent! Especially if the hardened heat pressing into her crotch had been anything to go by! She hated him for it, for treating her as if she'd already given herself up to him to take and use as he pleased. As if she was really his whore. Her teeth gritted in her anger. How dare he!

Then something inside her betraying faltered.

But - oh! Her eyes rolled back subtly in their sockets at the memory, cloth pausing in its circles - it had felt so good.

"You should be careful."

Imogen's eyes shot up at the dark voice and instantly found the cold, envious orbs of the maid in front of her. The pair was nearly forehead to forehead with their proximity, and Imogen could make out every trace of dislike in the girl's gaze. They weren't the only eyes glaring at her, but she knew it was this girl who had spoken.

She went on in a voice that was almost threatening. "You should be careful you do not fall out of favour with the prince." she hissed, eyes piercing into Imogen with hate so strong it sent shivers down her spine. "Many a girl in this palace would gladly take your place."

Dread flooded through Imogen as the words sunk in. It wasn't the girl that said her: it was what she predicted. She was right, Imogen realised, dropping her gaze to the floor so her thoughts could be read by no one but herself. Thor could replace her any moment he wanted if she couldn't keep him interested. Then where would she be?

And he had been interested. Their little scene in the corridor had only confirmed her suspicions. She'd seen his desire last night, felt the way he watched her with lustful eyes...

She would indulge him, she decided. She would have to do something to keep him staring at her, to keep him wanted her if in truth she would never let him claim her maidenhood. Maybe the next night he called for her she would wear one of the dressed he promised would be in her new room. Perhaps she would wear one low cut - or go drastic and wear the nightdress she had that only fell to her high thighs. That would surely keep him interested if her body was what he was after!

The plans started to form in her mind as to how she would continue to draw the god's eye. She thought of how to position her body alluringly when she slept, thought about how she would need to look at him just that tad different, speak just a touch darker and more cryptic...

She wouldn't give in though.

She wouldn't just let him pay her to come to his room and shred her pride and reputation. She knew it was miraculous bargain she'd managed to somehow conjure with the prince of Asgard, but it still didn't sit right with her taking money for nothing. It was like she was a really a harlot. Her pride wouldn't stand for it. She'd come when he asked for her, but she wouldn't stop her usual duties.

She'd take his offer, feed his lusts, accept his money - but she was doing this her way.