Surrender to the Viking

Get swept away byJoanna Fulford’s

VICTORIOUS VIKINGS

No man could defeat them.Two women would defy them!

DEFIANT IN THE VIKING’S BED

Proud warrior Leif Egilsson is enslaved by his enemies and vows his revenge on the woman responsible. Lady Astrid will become his slave—and will pay the price in his bed!

SURRENDER TO THE VIKING

Securing ships and weapons, powerful Viking Finn must take a bride in return. The fiery Lara may have to walk meekly to the altar, but she’ll fight their unwanted attraction each step of the way!

In memory of Jane Croft, writing as Joanna Fulford

DEDICATION FROM BRIAN,

HER LOVING HUSBAND

To Leonie Martin, Rosie Gilligan, Sue Pacey, Carol Vardy, Ann Norman, Gaynor Roberts and Graham Godfrey, who supported Jane throughout her writing career and me since.

Surrender to the Viking

Joanna Fulford

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Previous novels by the same author:

THE VIKING’S DEFIANT BRIDE

(part of the Mills & Boon Presents … anthology, featuring talented new authors)

THE WAYWARD GOVERNESS

THE LAIRD’S CAPTIVE WIFE

HIS COUNTERFEIT CONDESA

THE VIKING’S TOUCH

THE CAGED COUNTESS

REDEMPTION OF A FALLEN WOMAN

(part of Castonbury Park Regency mini-series)

HIS LADY OF CASTLEMORA

CHRISTMAS AT OAKHURST MANOR

(part of Snowbound Wedding Wishes anthology)

DEFIANT IN THE VIKING’S BED *

*Victorious Vikings

Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks?Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter One

Rags of mist drifted across the dark waters of the fjord and hung among the trees below the promontory, and the first rays of sunlight tinted the distant mountains pink and gold. At any other time Lara might have enjoyed the scene and the peace that attended the start of the new day, but just then her thoughts were turned inwards, her body moving automatically through the drill that Alrik had taught her. Her brother was absent but she had put their former lessons to good use, rising early to practise every day until the feel of the sword in her hand was as familiar as a distaff or a drop spindle.

No one in the hall would be stirring yet, and the promontory was far enough from the buildings to make discovery unlikely. If her father learned what she had been doing these past months his displeasure would be great. Lara grimaced. The tension between them was bad enough. They had barely spoken since their last argument a week ago...

‘You’re eighteen years old already and like to be an old maid, yet you continue to frighten off every suitor who offers for your hand.’

‘Frightened men have never held any appeal, you see.’

‘Don’t be flippant with me, girl,’ replied Jarl Ottar. ‘Indeed you would be well advised to mend your ways and cultivate some womanly charm.’

‘Am I not charming, Father?’

‘I’ve seen she-wolves with milder temperaments than yours. No man wants a sharp-tongued harridan for a wife.’

‘Then they are free to choose milksop brides if they wish.’

‘It is a woman’s place to be dutiful.’

Lara’s eyes flashed indignation. ‘Asa was dutiful, wasn’t she?’

Her father frowned. ‘Your sister did what was required of her. She understood what was due to her family.’

‘Don’t try to hide behind the family. Asa was forced into that marriage to satisfy your political ambition.’

‘It was a necessary alliance to prevent more years of feuding.’

‘You might as well have thrown her into a pit of vipers, but you will not use me as you used her.’

Lara lunged, thrusting the blade deep into the imaginary form of her erstwhile brother-in-law. It would have given her great pleasure to have disembowelled the living version but, unfortunately, he was far out of reach. She was also realistic enough to know that, were they ever to come face-to-face in combat, he would likely slay her with ease. She would never have a warrior’s strength or skill with a sword, but learning the rudiments of self-defence gave her a sense of accomplishment. It was also empowering, like watching her would-be suitors fleeing.

‘I will keep faith, Asa,’ she murmured. ‘I swear it.’

Regretfully she sheathed the blade once more and then picked up her cloak. People would be stirring now and she needed to get back. Recalcitrance didn’t extend as far as ignoring the round of daily chores that fell to her lot. Those were performed diligently leaving no room for criticism. She smiled to herself. Men who were well fed and comfortable generally complained less than those who weren’t. Anyway, it was good to be occupied. Idleness had never suited her.

She was just about to leave when she saw the ship rounding the promontory below her. Although it had the sleek lines and carved prow of a warship it was smaller than most of the sea dragons she had seen, with a crew of twenty or so. The lack of wind meant that the craft was under oars, the blades dipping and rising in perfect rhythm, barely ruffling the surface of the water. Lara silently acknowledged the skill of a crew working as one. Her gaze went from the rowers to the figure at the steering oar, a warrior in a mail byrnie. Her brow creased and she looked more closely. All the men on board were wearing them. Curiosity sharpened. The effort of rowing was great enough under normal circumstances; wearing mail would make it ten times harder. If they were doing so it argued that they had been under attack, that they expected to be or that they were about to launch an attack of their own.