Heart Surgeon to Single Dad

“Dr. Jacinth?” he asked, almost in disbelief, his voice deep and rumbling.

“Yes. And who might you be?”

“Dr. Sturlusson,” he snapped back in annoyance. “I thought that would be obvious.”

“No, it’s not obvious. I’ve seen Dr. Sturlusson and he’s at least seventy. Are you telling me you’re seventy?”

He rolled his eyes. “You mean my father. I am Dr. Axel Sturlusson, his son.”

“I see. I thought your father was meant to pick me up.”

“He was, but something came up and I’ve come to collect you.” He sounded annoyed by the prospect of taking her into the city.

“Well, if it’s too much trouble I can rent a car and drive myself. I wouldn’t want to burden you.”

“I am here now and you will come with me.”

It wasn’t ‘will you come with me?’ It was you will come with me and that irked her even more. Dr. Sturlusson was pleasant and polite. His son Axel was a bit of an arrogant jerk.

She should argue with him further, but truth be told she was tired and she was glad to not have to drive.

“Fine,” she said. “Lead the way.”

He looked down at her shoes. “You do know this is Iceland in winter?”

“I’m aware.”

“You’re wearing ridiculous heels.”

She glanced down at her boots. “They’re boots.”

“It’s icy outside,” he stated gruffly.

“Oh, I’m surprised to hear that a place called Iceland is icy,” she snapped back. She was too tired to be bandying words about with a gigantic behemoth of a Viking in the middle of the airport.

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t appreciate the sarcasm.”

“And I don’t appreciate your tone, either. I assure you, if I can navigate the likes of Manhattan during rush hour I can get myself to Reykjavik intact.”

A small smile flitted at the corner of his mouth and there was a sudden twinkle in his eyes. “Is that so?”

“It is. And I can do all that in heels.”

He was openly amused. “Well, my apologies, then, but since I am here already perhaps you’ll let me drive you anyways?”

“Thank you.”

Axel held out his arm, gesturing in the direction to the terminal doors, and she followed him, pulling her suitcase behind her. She was very aware of the sound of her heels against the airport floor, but she wasn’t going to back down to Axel Sturlusson. She hadn’t got where she was as a surgeon by backing down. She’d learned how to stand her ground.

Except when it came to Thomas. She’d let Thomas walk all over her and she hated herself for that.

They stepped outside and she was met with a blast of cold, icy air completely foreign to the temperatures she was used to in Manhattan and back home in Tennessee. Her teeth chattered.

Axel turned. “You stay here and I’ll pull the car up.”

Betty nodded. She wasn’t going to argue as she opened up her carry-on bag and dug out an ugly knitted cap and the matching mitts she’d bought at an outdoor store. Fashion be damned, she was freezing her keister off.

It wasn’t long before his SUV pulled up and he got out. In a couple of strides he was beside her, picking up her suitcase and her carry-on and stowing them in the back.