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‘It wouldn’t have mattered when you told me. I would always have made room for her,’ he said simply, and her heart thudded hard as he caught her hands, uncurling her fists and slotting his fingers through hers. ‘But that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for you too.’
She was about to protest, to pretend that he’d misunderstood, but then she thought back to how it had felt when her daughter had reached out to Ragnar. ‘I don’t want to lose her.’
‘You won’t.’ Letting go of her hands, he gripped her shoulders. ‘You can’t lose her. She loves you and needs you more than anyone else in the world. You’re her mother.’
‘And you’re her father.’ Her face tightened. ‘And I’m sorry that I’ve pushed you away.’
His gaze was the clear deep blue of an Arctic sky. ‘I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere.’
‘But I’ve made everything so difficult—and that’s not what I wanted to do...not what I want to do—’
She broke off, her insides tightening as they both listened to her words reverberate around the silent kitchen.
A minute passed, and then another.
‘So, what is it, then?’ he said hoarsely. ‘What do you want to do, Lottie?’
She stared at him dazedly. Her tongue was in knots and she couldn’t seem to breathe right. The air around her was shifting and swelling, pressing closer. She was losing her balance.
Reaching out to steady herself, she laid the palm of her hand against his chest. He breathed in sharply, his shoulders tensing, and the sudden acceleration of his heartbeat made her whole body tremble.
‘What do I want?’ she whispered.
For one intense, dizzying second they stared at one another, and then she took a small, unsteady step towards him.
‘I want this,’ she said and, leaning forward, she kissed him lightly.
His mouth was warm and firm, and she felt her limbs turn to air as he wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her closer, moulding her body against his.
Heat was seeping through her robe, spreading out beneath the insistent
pressure of his fingers, and she moaned softly, her arms circling his neck, her hands grasping his hair as he parted her lips, deepening the kiss. She felt his hands sliding smoothly over the bare skin of thighs, and then he was lifting her up onto the counter.
The granite was hard and cold, but she barely noticed. She could feel his lips moving over her neck, his tongue circling the pulse beating at the base of her throat, and then his hands cupped her breasts, and as his fingers pushed aside the thin fabric and found her nipples she gasped into his mouth.
Her head was spinning, her abdomen aching with a tension that made her stir restlessly against him. She was so tight and damp and, grabbing his arms, she curled her legs around his thighs, drawing him closer, pushing against the solid length beneath his trousers, trying, wanting, needing to appease the ache—
The sudden burst of static was like a thunderclap.
They both froze, jerking backwards from one another as though they’d been stung.
Lottie clutched at the counter as the kitchen swam back into focus. What were they doing? What was she doing?
‘Lottie—’
Ragnar was standing beside her, but her eyes were fixed guiltily on the baby monitor.
‘I have to go.’
She glanced up at him. His eyes were narrowed and he was breathing unsteadily. He looked as dazed as she felt, but right now she wasn’t up to sharing anything with him—particularly her shock at their sudden mutual loss of control.
She shook her head. ‘I can’t.’
And, still shaking her head, she snatched up the monitor and fled.
CHAPTER SIX
STANDING IN FRONT of his bedroom window, Ragnar gazed unblinkingly into the lemon-coloured light. At some point it had snowed heavily, and an eiderdown of sparkling untouched whiteness stretched away from the house as far as the eye could see.
