Proof of Their One-Night Passion

The sound of the helicopter made normal speech impossible and both men were having to raise their voices.

Dropping back into his seat, Ragnar gave her hand a quick squeeze, and then her heart picked up speed as he bent closer and she felt his warm breath on her throat.

‘Just another couple of minutes.’

She felt her body soften as his mouth found hers. Her head was swimming, and she had to lift her mouth from his to stop herself from deepening the kiss and tearing at the layers of padding that separated them from one another.

‘Until what?’

‘Wait and see.’

Ivar landed the helicopter exactly three minutes later.

Flecks of snow whipped up by the rotor blades whirled around them as Ragnar climbed out and then lifted her down. As she pulled her hood up over her hair she looked up at him questioningly.

‘So where now?’

He took her hand. ‘This way.’

They crunched steadily through the snow, up a curving bank, and then abruptly the snow ended and she felt her feet stall. She pushed her hood back from her face. In front of her a lead-grey sea stretched out to a horizon that looked as though it had been drawn with a ruler.

And next to the sea was the beach.

Only this beach was nothing like the pale, biscuit-coloured sands of home—it was black.

Lottie let Ragnar lead her down the shifting dunes.

‘It’s lava,’ he said as she reached down and picked a handful of tiny black pebbles. ‘When it reached the sea it stopped and cooled instantly. That’s the dull, scientific explanation, anyway.’ His mouth curved up. ‘But I still can’t stop myself from looking for dragons every time I come here.’

The pull of his blue gaze was intoxicating and irresistible. She smiled back at him. ‘So what are we waiting for? Let’s go see if we can find one.’

It was the most amazing place, Lottie thought as they made their way across the gleaming wet sands. Apart from the noise of the waves hitting the shore at regular intervals, the only other sound was the occasional seabird crying as it swooped above the water far out at sea.

‘Do you like it?’

His blue eyes rested steadily on her face and she nodded, her vocal cords suddenly paralysed by the intensity of his gaze.

‘Enough to stay for lunch?’ he said softly.

Lunch? She frowned. ‘Where are we going to eat lunch?’

And then she saw it.

At the back of the beach, where the white snow met the black stones, was a huge fire pit filled with burning logs. Around it, fat kilim-covered cushions were spread out invitingly over a collection of shaggy sheepskin rugs, and a picnic basket was sitting on top of what appeared to be a table made out of snow.

Lottie breathed out unsteadily. Something was wrong with her. A shard of ice seemed to be lodged in her throat, but her eyes felt as though they were burning.

‘I don’t understand...’ she whispered.

He pulled her against him, brushing the tears from her cheeks. His jacket was quilted, hers was too, but she could still feel his heart beating through the layers of fabric and insulation.

‘It’s my way of saying thank-you for yesterday. For letting me share Sóley’s first steps.’

Cupping her face with his hands, he kissed her fiercely and she kissed him back, relieved to have an outlet for the dizzying intensity of her longing for him.

Finally, they drew apart.

‘How did you do all this?’