Proof of Their One-Night Passion

For the next two hours she tried hard to distract herself from what was going on downstairs. It helped that Sóley was extra demanding, refusing to be put down for a moment and wanting her mother’s full attention. Probably she’d been upset by Marta’s distress, but thankfully she was too young to have understood Ragnar’s deceit by omission.

Lottie shivered. A lump of ice was lodged in her stomach and she could feel its chill spreading outwards. Why hadn’t he told his sister about their daughter? It didn’t make any sense. He’d spoken to Marta countless times—how could he not have mentioned her?

Maybe he hadn’t wanted to tell her when she was so upset. Then again, he had a big family, so maybe he was telling them one at a time.

Glancing down, she saw that Sóley had fallen asleep. Even with her blue eyes out of the equation, the family resemblance between her daughter and Marta and Ragnar was unmistakable. It was there in her jawline and the shape of her mouth.

Turning, she felt her heart stutter. Ragnar was standing in the doorway, his gaze resting on her face. He looked tired. Instantly she forgot her own fears and, walking across the room, she pulled him against her. She felt him breathe out, and the lump of ice in her stomach started to melt.

‘Shall I put her down?’ he asked.

She nodded and, lifting his daughter up, he laid her gently in the cot.

‘Let’s go downstairs,’ he said quietly.

The hall was empty and silent, the kitchen too.

Lottie watched as Ragnar poured two glasses of water and handed her one.

‘Is Marta okay?’

He nodded. ‘She will be.’

‘She probably needs some food. I can make her some lunch—’

‘You don’t need to do that.’

‘Oh, I don’t mind—’

‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘You don’t need to do that. She’d not here.’

She frowned. ‘Not here. Where has she gone?’

‘To Reykjavik. To a hotel.’

‘But she was so upset. She shouldn’t be on her own—you should go after her.’

His face stilled. ‘That would be a little absurd as I was the one who sent her there.’

She stared at him, not understanding. ‘You sent her away? But why?’

‘This is my home. I have rules. And Marta broke those rules. She knows I don’t have people to stay here.’

His answer both irritated and confused her. ‘She’s not “people”. She’s your family.’

He shrugged. ‘I know—and I particularly don’t have my family here. This is a place of calm and order. I don’t want their drama under my roof.’

Rules. Drama. What was he talking about? She could feel panic clawing up her throat. ‘But you love them.’

‘Yes, I do. And I show that love to them in many different ways, twenty-four-seven. All they have to do in return is follow my rules, and the first and most important rule is that they don’t turn up unannounced.’

He sounded as though he was explaining a scientific law, like gravity, not talking about his family.

‘But love doesn’t have rules...’ she said slowly.

‘Which probably explains why so many people are unhappy.’

She felt a chill as his blue gaze met hers. His eyes were hard and unreachable.