Proof of Their One-Night Passion

But before she could open her mouth he said abruptly, ‘Would you like to come and have a look at the horses with me? They’re out in the paddock. I thought maybe—’ He frowned and stopped speaking mid-sentence, as though he’d said more than he’d intended.

She hesitated. Yesterday she would definitely have made up some excuse and refused, but today it was easier to nod and say, ‘Thank you, that would be lovely.’

> The horses were beautiful, and incredibly friendly. They were all different sizes and colours, from piebald through to palomino, and their coats were thick and shaggy like reindeer fur. Peeling off her gloves, she leaned over the wooden fence to touch their velvety faces. As a beautiful chestnut put his face forward for her to rub, she realised that she was enjoying herself.

Her stomach tightened. So maybe she didn’t need to talk to him after all.

Here, in the bright sunlight, with the crisp air on her skin, their kiss felt distant and dreamlike. Perhaps if they stood here for long enough the brilliant blue sky might part like the sea and swallow up the memory of it entirely.

‘Do you ride?’

His voice jogged her thoughts and, glancing up, she instantly realised the stupidity of that notion.

It was nearly two years since she and Ragnar had slept together and yet she could still remember every second. And not just his hard-muscled body or the careless beauty of his face. He had an aura, a disruptive, sensual energy beneath his stillness, and it separated him from every other man she’d ever met. And right now that aura was pinning her to the frozen ground and making her limbs flood with heat.

She nodded. ‘I used to. When I was younger we lived in a converted farm building and the farmer’s wife had horses. She let me and Lucas ride them in exchange for mucking them out.’

She felt his gaze on her profile and, looking over, found that he was staring at her intently.

‘And now?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t really have the time.’

His expression shifted infinitesimally, in a way that she couldn’t pinpoint—a kind of tensing in anger, but not quite.

‘But you’d like to?’

As she nodded, he seemed to relax a little.

‘I’ll make it happen,’ he said softly.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘And thank you for yesterday...well, I mean this morning. For listening to me. I’m sorry to throw all that drama at you.’

‘Drama?’ He seemed amused or maybe surprised by her choice of word. ‘You were very dignified—not dramatic at all. And I’m sorry that I made you feel excluded. Truly it wasn’t and isn’t my intention to push you out of Sóley’s life.’

‘I know. I understand that now.’

She glanced past him. There was nobody around. If she waited until they went back into the house she might have to seek out another private moment, and the thought of being alone with him inside was the spur she needed to speak.

‘About what happened after we talked...’

She looked up, jolted by hearing the words she had been about to say come out of his mouth.

‘You mean when I...?’ She hesitated.

He gazed at her steadily. ‘I mean when we kissed.’

For a second her vision blurred. It felt significant, him choosing those particular words, for he could have made it sound like her sole responsibility. Instead he was admitting his own desire had played a part.

‘I thought you might want to pretend it hadn’t happened,’ she said.

There was a small silence, and then he shook his head. ‘I don’t want to do that—and even if I did I’m not sure that I could.’

His gaze fixed on her face and she felt her blood thicken and slow at the hunger in his eyes...a hunger that seemed to reach through the layers of her padded jacket so that she could feel heat spiralling up inside her.

‘I know I haven’t given you much reason to trust me, but trust me on this: I wanted to kiss you every bit as much you wanted to kiss me. I was just waiting for permission.’ He gave her a small, taut smile. ‘Look, Lottie, there’s something I need to say to you. I want you to know how sorry I am for lying to you the night we met. I hope that maybe one day you’ll believe that’s not who I am.’

She stared at him in silence, processing his statement. He made it sound as though he’d acted out of character—but then why had he lied to her?