Chapter 3

Thor walked back to his chambers with a sly look on his face. The sun was setting, and his business for the day was done at last; his stride carrying him back to the place he was looking forward to being the most.

He'd requested for Imogen to be present in his chambers for when he returned from his meeting with Odin. She hadn't yet been move up to her station (though it came first in Thor's list of priorities for the day ahead) and so his summon had had to go through the servant's quarters. Good, he thought. Open and known to all. That would hide suspicion.

He was fully expecting a not very happy woman to bed sat on his bed though. Thor didn't doubt Imogen's pride would have taken a dent at all of her former colleagues finding out she was Thor's new mistress before she'd even got to grips with it herself!

To him though, it was irrelevant. His job in the deal was to avoid suspicion. And the God of Thunder was not known for sly, underhand tactics. The more public he was, the greater their disguise. And besides, he would enjoy flaunting Imogen on his arm for the world to see. He half wondered if word had reached her family yet. He hoped so; she would not be returning to them tonight. Or any other night, if he had his way.

His hand paused on the door before he opened it, envisioning what he would find within. Then he started to think - would she actually be on the bed? The more he thought, the more he doubted it. It seemed too submissive for her.

But then, where else was there for her to go? Other than hiding in the corners or in his bathroom, there was nowhere. And he couldn't imagine her knowingly trapping herself in corners any more than waiting patiently on his sheets.

A tentative frown etch into his brow as he cracked the door open lightly: she wouldn't be waiting to ambush him, would she? No, he quickly dismissed, though a lingering doubt still pinched his mind. If she truly valued this job - let alone her life! - she wouldn't try to harm him. Regardless, his hand clenched somewhat tighter around Mjolnir's hilt.

His muscles were tense as he swiftly shut the door behind him.

He blinked in surprise: Imogen was on his bed. His eyes scoured over her impeccable form on his sheets and felt his heart stop.

She lay on her front with her chin resting on top of her delicately folded hands, ankles crossed by his pillows. Her round - albeit, bored - eyes glittered up at the god.

"I did not expect to find you like that." he finally forced out, his voice a touch deeper than usual. His knees felt stiff as he wondered forward and placed Mjolnir down by the foot of the bed with a quiet thud.

Imogen arched an eyebrow at him. "You asked for me like this."

Yes, but I did not expect you to obey, he snapped back in his head. In reality though, he let the matter drop. He turned his back to her and started to un-tap the hinges of his armour. "You should not come in your servant's gown in future." he said to the opposite wall, hearing the rustle of sheets behind him. She must be sitting up, he thought. He tried not to let it plague his mind, knowing that while she lay and he stood so close had her face near level with his backside.

His breast plates fell away with a clunk and he turned back around as the back followed, leaving him in the scaled armour that ran along his arms and body.

Imogen was backed against the headboard. "I have nothing else to wear."

Thor was unfazed, and bent to grasp Mjolnir again. "You shall have fresh clothes in your room when it is prepared. When you come, wear one of those, unless I specify otherwise." He touched the hammers hilt and the metal fell away from his body like flower petals, evaporating into nothing before they'd hit the ground. "A lover of Thor does not dress like a common place maid."

"Unless, as in my case, one is neither."

He was glad to see the glint in her eyes as she said it. She was not out of her depth then, not intimidated. Good; Thor liked her for her spirit and would have been sorely disappointed if that had been drowned out of her.

A grin graced his lips and he chuckled. "You have every opportunity to leave." he said, wondering round the side of the bed, now dressed in his black trousers and black shirt. "Although your expenses will be none the better for it."

Imogen pouted and looked away. Thor's smirk deepened, knowing he had won. He started to tug at the cuffs of his shirt before he stopped himself, eyes flickering to Imogen cautiously. Sure enough, her eyes glistened warily. He'd be sleeping in his shirt tonight then, he sighed inwardly.

Imogen straightened up slightly in the sheets and tucked her legs under her body consciously. "What exactly do you want of me?"

Thor's eyes shot upwards. "Did I not already specify that you need perform nothing in return?" He liked Imogen, but his patience only stretched so far when it came to repeating himself. The words were becoming too familiar in his mouth.

Again, her eyes rolled away.

Thor had had enough of that as well.

He leaned forward and cupped her cheek in his hand, gently drawing her back to him. His eyes drilled calmly, yet assertively, into hers.

"Do not do that again." he warned softly. He was trying to be gentle but the warmth of her cheek was flooding straight to his belly and his voice came out slightly rougher than he'd intended. "You have nothing to fear, nor to be wary of. Everything I have told you I have promised in faith. If all you wish to do is sleep, then nothing more will occur between us."

He watched intently as the words sunk in and Imogen's orbs widened slightly. Instinct pulled them down, but she caught herself quickly and shot them back to his face.

The god smiled and stroked his thumb along her cheek. "Good."

He pulled back and let his eyes scour over her subtly as he wondered back across the room. He wished she would stop looking at her like that. Those sharp alert eyes could probably see everything that he was trying to hide. He couldn't help it; his body betrayed him. He was a man after all.

He found his route diverting to his bathroom and he closed the door behind him as casually as he could. Once alone, he let the huff of breath leave him and his hands lean heavily either side of the sink. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, and what Imogen had been seeing of him since he came back. His jaw looked a little taunt and a muscle twitched in his neck. There was no way she could have missed his eyes though; they were a whole shade darker than usual.

He took a deep breath. A man of need stared back at him. He'd promised her, he reminded himself. No matter what he wanted, what his body needed, Imogen could not be the answer.

His knuckles clenched white either side of the sink as he fought his desires. It was a long wait, and many precise, undiluted thoughts about Odin's meeting, before the tightness in his trousers started to ease slightly.

And then he was angry with himself. It was not fair! To have to ask so much of him when he had a woman like Imogen on the other side of the door, in his bed to stay the night, while he could not touch her, bound by his own word... it was the most effective form of torture Thor had ever come across. He left the bathroom even more frustrated then he'd entered.

He found Imogen on the floor. She sat across the room, her back against the wall and her knees hugged to her chest. Her eyes pierced at him hard over her knee caps.

Thor growled to himself; his 'problem' was back again.

He strode forward, fists clenching in his frustrations. He stopped so the bed was between them, so she knew his aggression was not directed at her. "What in Odin's name are you doing down there?"

Her eyes blinked up at him calmly in a way that only infuriated him more. He tried to keep his face relaxed of his true tensions as he waited for her answer. Her knees were parted slightly, the small valley between her kneecaps testing the god more than he could have imagined.

"You said we could just sleep." her hand waved to the bed loosely. "Sleep."

Thor didn't move. His eyebrows lifted. "And you?"

Imogen squirmed slightly against the wall, hugging her arms tighter around her knees. Well, that was the temptation gone, Thor thought to himself. Her eyes drifted downwards, despite his earlier warnings. "I don't think I can." she admitted.

Thor didn't buy it. He left out an almost angry breath and approached the side of the bed, kicking off his boots. "Don't be ridiculous." he half snarled, turning and sitting himself down on the sheets. His eyes gaze stayed poised on Imogen over his shoulder until he rolled himself onto the bed, his stretched out legs running parallel to the sides. He lay back into the pillows, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Get in the bed and sleep."

"No."

Thor just stared at her. "No?"

His brow furrowed - no one had ever refused him so bluntly before. Especially with such a fiery determined hardness in their eyes!

He was transported back to the Hall where they'd first met, the last place he'd seen the same resolve in her gaze. He was torn; the look he loved so much... yet directed at him, a far from patient man as it was. If she was aiming to frustrate him more, she was definitely succeeding.

She didn't look away, violet orbs burning into his. "I refuse." she rephrased as if he were a simpleton.

"You would rather sleep on the floor?" She would surely be above that, he thought.

He was wrong: "I'm not going to share a bed with you!" she hissed, eyes suddenly darting around distrustingly as if she were afraid someone would overhear her.

Thor sighed heavily and pulled himself upright again. "Then you take the bed."

"No." Her wary orbs shot back to him. Thor was getting tired of these games. He wished she would just submit to his will and be done with it. But he knew it was her defiant nature that drew him to her in the first place. "No matter what occurs between us you are still the prince and I am still a servant. You cannot ask me to take up your bed while you are left to the floor!"

Thor was losing his patience fast. He was starting to think he'd throw her over his
shoulder and toss her into the bed if it would get the job done any faster. "And if I order you?"

"Then you shall have to have me hauled back into Odin's court room and have me imprisoned for disobedience."

The god let his body fall back amongst the pillows but his hands stayed at his sides, fisting in the sheets. Gods, she was infuriating, he thought, teeth gritting with his vexation. And fascinating. And beautiful. And alluring. And - he ran a hand over his face - he wanted her.

She'd have to be blind to miss the bulge in his trousers now, but she made no mention of it. It was a cruel twist of fate for the god: he could have any woman he wanted, and the one woman he did want was as stubborn as a mule!

Yet he would not love her if she were anything but.

His thought's stopped. No, he cut in quickly, he did not just think that. He thought her beautiful and engaging, and yes, he desired her, but that was where it ended - blatant, wanton, animalistic need. He was sure if he could only bed her once, his troubles would be over and he would be able to look at her calmly again.

As it was...

He tore himself up from the bed and fisted the sheets in his palm, throwing them unceremoniously at the maiden against the wall. She pulled them down from over her head with narrowed eyes.

"Sleep how you wish." he gruffed, dark gaze scouring over her one last time before he threw himself back down to the bed. "It matters not to me."

Imogen said nothing. Thor lay back on the bed, a hand behind his head as he submitted himself to his thoughts. A rustle caught his ears and he imagined Imogen lying on the floor, the flat surface only accentuating her seductive curves enticingly.

The god screwed his eyes shut. He started to be grateful for the darkness that crept into the room as his thought's ran wild along with the tension in his trousers again; even if Imogen was looking now, it would be hard to see anything in this poor light. He couldn't stop himself though, the mere images in his head driving him crazy. He thought of the pleasant arch of her hip, the smooth but fast dip of her waist, her dark waves spilling over her shoulders, knowing it would take a mere slip of her sleeve over her shoulder to have more of her revealed to him...

Thor ran both hands over his face and let out a quiet moan. He tried to think of the dying woman in the blacksmiths house. Surely that was depressing enough to bring him down from his high!

Alas, no. His thoughts once more strayed to the woman's incredible - and also untouchable - temptress of a daughter.

He wanted to roll over and stare at her but he knew he wouldn't be able to tear himself away if he did. This was going to be harder than he'd first thought. Just one night, and he'd only touched her once, and he was drowning in his unfulfilled lust.

This was going to be a long night.