His stomach clenched. It made no sense after what he’d said earlier, and what she’d said, and yet it was there—a need, a hunger, a heat that had nothing to with any geothermal activity.
‘Do you use the pool a lot?’ she asked softly.
He nodded. ‘Usually once a day. Sometimes twice. During the day you can see the sky reflected in the water and it’s like you’re swimming among the clouds.’
She turned towards him, her eyes wide and unguarded, and he felt something squeeze in his chest at the surprise he saw there.
‘I didn’t have you down as a poet,’ she said.
For a moment, he was captivated by the softness in her voice, and then he felt an almost vertiginous rush of panic.
Glancing upwards, he felt his body loosen with relief. ‘I know my limits. If you want real poetry, you just need to look up.’
She gasped. Above them, the sky seemed to be melting. Colour was suffusing the darkness, lighting up the night, and swathes of green and amber and amethyst were swirling and shifting like oil on water.
It was the Aurora Borealis—the Northern Lights—but Ragnar barely noticed the dazzling display. He was too busy watching Lottie.
He breathed out unsteadily. His body was alive with need, worse than before, and his heart hammered in his ears so that thinking was impossible. But he didn’t need a conscious brain to know that he still wanted Lottie.
And then, just like that, the show was over.
‘We should go in,’ he said quietly.
She nodded, following him reluctantly out of the pool. ‘Did you know that was going to happen?’
He held out the robe. ‘Only in that it’s a clear night and it’s the right time of year.’
He hardly knew what he was saying, but what he did know was that he still regretted those lies he’d told her that first night. And if he didn’t tell her what he was thinking now, wasn’t that just a different kind of lie? One he would regret for ever?
So tell her the truth. Be honest, like you said you wanted to be.
He met her gaze, felt his pulse stilling. His home here in Iceland was his sanctuary. A place of calm and order. If he said what he was thinking then he ran the risk of unleashing chaos and passion here.
But if he didn’t, what then?
The chaos would still be there, underneath the surface, and it wasn’t going anywhere.
And now, finally, he understood why. Ever since that night in the hotel room he hadn’t felt whole. The panic that had led him to slip away while she slept still haunted him, and only by owning this hunger was he going to restore balance to his life.
‘Earlier...when I talked about what happened... I think I was wrong. Actually, I know I was wrong.’ He frowned. ‘What I’m trying to say is this thing between us, I know it’s complicated and confusing...but it’s also real, and pretending it isn’t would be a lie. I think you feel the same way. But if you don’t, that’s okay. I just need you to tell me and then I’ll never—’
‘I do.’ She swallowed. ‘I do feel the same way.’
His eyes dropped to her mouth. Had she spoken or had he just imagined it?
‘Are you sure?’ he said hoarsely.
‘About wanting you? Yes.’
She looked away and, reaching out, he gently framed her face with his hands. ‘We don’t need to have all the answers, Lottie.’ He was surprised to find that he meant what he said. ‘We can work it out together.’
She breathed out shakily and his own breath stalled in his throat as she let the robe slide from her fingers to the floor. For a few pulsing half-seconds she stared at him in silence, and then she took his right hand from her cheek and pressed the palm against her breast.
He felt his pulse accelerate, his body hardening with a speed that almost made him black out, and then, leaning forward he kissed her. Only not in the way she’d kissed him in the kitchen. This was a raw and urgent kiss, a kiss without restraint, a kiss designed to satisfy the hunger in both of them.
‘You have no idea how much I want you,’ he murmured against her mouth. ‘I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.’
‘Me too,’ she whispered. She was leaning into him so that their foreheads were touching, their warm breath mingling. ‘It’s like you’re in my head...’