All Over Again (Sequel to Wanted Man)

Prologue

ALL OVER AGAIN

PROLOGUE

There were times when being married to a god was a very good thing, and this was one of those times.

McKenna Carlin Laufeyson thought she could be perfectly happy to lay exactly where she was, stretched out on a beach bathed silver by the moonlight, her head resting on her new husband’s chest, while he filled the air with a myriad of multicolored fireworks with nothing more than few flicks of his fingers.

But then again, her husband wasn’t just any mere man and they weren’t on any old beach. They were at the Sølvfoss, the Silver Falls, in the kingdom of Asgard and he was Loki, known throughout the Nine Realms as the God of Mischief.

“Are you still awake?” His deep voice split through the peaceful silence, sleepy and low.

“I am. You put on a beautiful show.”

A low laugh bubbled up into the night and as his right hand went still, the fireworks went dark. “Do I, now?”

As he spoke, he eased out from beneath her and rose onto one elbow to gaze down at her. It was a beautiful night, with a full, silvery moon bathing everything around them with its shimmering light.

“You look very happy, love,” he murmured, his right hand coming down to curve against her cheek.

“Of course I do.” She reached up to tuck a stray black curl back behind his ear. “Why wouldn’t I? Today has been absolutely perfect in every way.”

“That it has.”

“And I’m not the only one who looks happy. If the people of Earth could see you now, no one would ever believe they had anything to fear from you.”

“Ah, but I don’t want anyone else to see me this way. This side is one I prefer kept out of anyone else’s view.”

“I thought you’ve given up the idea conquering Earth.”

“I have, but they don’t need to know that.” He smiled, his eyes sparkling silver-blue in the light. “I’d rather they all harbor a little fear of me. Especially where you and Selig are concerned.”

She frowned. “I don’t like to think about the reasons why you need people to still be afraid of you.”

“So don’t.” He leaned in to kiss her forehead and whispered, “Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove: O no; it is an ever-fixed mark, that looks on tempests, and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.”

“Shakespeare?”

“Sonnet 116. A very popular one for weddings on Midgard, from what I understand.”

“It sounds beautiful.” She loved when he quoted Shakespeare, although he didn’t do so very often.

He smiled and caught her hand in his, threading his fingers through hers and twisting her arm to bare her wrist. Leaning in, his lips pressed into the sensitive skin and she shivered as he swept another gentle kiss along her inner arm, toward her elbow.

People on Earth, or Midgard, as the Asgardians called it, feared this man.  They were absolutely terrified of him, which made McKenna smile now as his black hair brushed over her skin and he worked his way up and over her shoulder. His breath was warm on her skin, his lips gentle over her throat, and when her head fell back, his voice was soft as he murmured, “My love…”

As he pressed her back into the blanket and covered her body with his, it was so difficult for her to recall the time when she was just as afraid of him. How was that even possible, when all she ever saw of him was his gentle side?

Millions of stars sparkled overhead, just as the diamond and emerald wedding ring on her left hand sparkled and everything was as perfect as it could ever be.