Festive Fling With The Single Dad. Annie Claydon

across the narrow stream was nothing. Having her close was everything, a dizzying, heady sensation that made Aksel forget about anything else. Her scent invaded his senses and all he wanted to do was hold Flora for as long as she’d allow it.

      He wondered if she could feel the resonance of his heart pounding against his ribs. Feeling her arms tighten around him, he looked into her face and suddenly he was lost. Her gaze met his, seeming to understand everything, all of his hope and fears and his many, many uncertainties. He might be struggling to keep his head above water, but she was the rock that he clung to.

      None of that mattered. Her eyes were dark in the twilight, her lips slightly parted. The only thing that Aksel could think about was how her kiss might taste.

      He resisted. It seemed that Flora was too. This was all wrong, but he couldn’t make a move to stop it.

      ‘Are you going to put me down now?’ She murmured the words, still holding him tight in the spell of her gaze. Aksel moved automatically, setting her back on her feet, and for a moment he saw disappointment in her eyes. Then she smiled.

      ‘Where shall we go next?’

      Their voyage of exploration wasn’t over. And Aksel had discovered one, basic truth. That he must navigate carefully between the dangerous waters of Flora’s eyes, and the absolute need to do his best for Mette.

      ‘Over there.’ Light was pooling around a glazed door, which led back into the castle. He needed that light, in order to forget the way that shadows had caressed Flora’s face, in a way that he never could.

       CHAPTER THREE

      FLORA OPENED HER EYES. Sunday morning. A time to relax and think about nothing.

      Nothing wasn’t going to work. That was when Aksel invaded her thoughts. The night-time dreams of a perfect family, which were usually brushed off so easily when she woke, had been fleshed out with faces. Aksel had been there, and her children had their father’s ice-blue eyes. The image had made her heart ache.

      And she’d come so close yesterday. Almost done it…

      Almost didn’t matter. She hadn’t kissed him and she wasn’t going to. She’d flirted a bit—Flora could admit to that. They’d shared a moment, it was impossible to deny that either. But they’d drawn back from it, like grown-up, thinking people. It took trust to make a relationship, and that was the one thing that Flora couldn’t feel any more.

      She got out of bed, wrapping her warm dressing gown around her and opening the curtains. Not picturing Aksel at all. Actually, she didn’t need to imagine he was there, because he was the first thing she saw when she looked out over the land that bordered the village. Kari was racing to fetch a ball that he’d just flung into the air, and he turned, as if aware of her gaze on him. Seeing her at the window, he waved.

      Great. Not only was he intruding into her dreams, he seemed to have taken over her waking moments now. Flora waved back, turning from the window.

      Somehow, Aksel managed to follow her into the shower. Wet-haired, with rivulets of water trickling over his chest. Then downstairs, as butter melted on her toast, he was standing by the stove, making coffee in that little copper kettle of his.

      ‘If he’s going to stalk me, then perhaps he should do the washing-up…’ Dougal was busy demolishing the contents of his bowl, and gave Flora’s comment the disregard that it deserved. Aksel wasn’t stalking her. She was doing this all by herself.

      The doorbell rang and Dougal rushed out into the hallway, knocking over his water bowl in the process. He was pawing at the front door, barking excitedly, and Flora bent down to pick him up. Then she saw Aksel’s dark shadow on the other side of the obscured glass. She jumped back, yelping in surprise, and the shadow suddenly seemed to back away too.

      She opened the door, trying to compose herself. At least the real Aksel bothered to wait on the doorstep and didn’t just waltz in as if he owned the place.

      ‘Is this too early…?’ Today he was clean-shaven, with just the top half of his hair caught back, leaving the rest to flow around his shoulders. How on earth did he get such gorgeous hair to look so masculine? Flora dismissed the question for later, and concentrated on the one he’d asked.

      ‘No. Not at all.’ A cold wind was whipping through into the house, and Flora stood back from the door. ‘Come in.’

      She led the way through to the kitchen, and both he and Kari stepped neatly around the puddle of spilt water from Dougal’s bowl. He insisted that he didn’t want coffee, and that she should sit down and have her breakfast while he cleared up the mess. Flora sat, taking a gulp from her mug while he fetched a cloth and wiped up the water, washing the bowl in the sink before refilling it for Dougal.

      ‘I assume you didn’t just pop in to wipe my kitchen floor for me?’ Who knew that a man could look sexy doing housework? If she wasn’t very careful, she would find herself fantasising about that, too.

      ‘No. I came to ask you a favour.’

      ‘Fire away.’ Flora waved him to a seat, and picked up her toast.

      ‘I did some reorganisation this morning, to prepare for when Mette comes back to the cottage to stay with me.’ He frowned, clearly not very pleased with the results. ‘I wondered if you might take a look, and tell me what you think? I won’t keep you long.’

      This was where the fantasy stopped. Mette was a patient at the clinic, and Aksel was a father in need of some help. It was safer, more comfortable ground, even if it was less thrilling. Flora got to her feet.

      ‘Okay. Let’s have a look.’

      Aksel picked Dougal up in his arms, and all four of them squeezed through the hole in the hedge, Flora shivering as the wind tugged at her sweater. Dougal followed Kari into the sitting room, and He led the way up the stairs. Flora was surprised when he opened the door to the left because this cottage was the mirror image of hers, with the smaller bedroom and a bathroom to the right. She followed him inside.

      Aksel had obviously made an effort. There was a toy box with a row of cuddly animals lined up on the top. A single bed stood at the other end of the room with the wardrobe and chest of drawers.

      ‘This is nice. I can see you’ve covered all the health and safety aspects.’ The room was immaculately tidy, which would help Mette find what she wanted. He’d obviously been thinking about trip hazards and sharp edges, and all of the wall sockets had protectors fitted.

      ‘That’s easy enough.’ Aksel was looking around the room with a dissatisfied gaze. ‘It’s not very pretty, though, is it?’

      It was a bit stark. But that could be fixed easily. ‘Why did you choose this room for Mette?’

      ‘It’s the biggest.’

      ‘Big isn’t always best. In a very large room like this, Mette might find it difficult to orientate herself.’

      Aksel thought for a moment, and then nodded, striding across the hallway and opening the door of the other bedroom. Inside, Flora could see a large double bed, which must have come from the main bedroom. This room too was scrupulously tidy, as if Aksel had decided to camp here for the night and would be moving on soon.

      He looked around, assessing her suggestion. ‘I think you’re right. I’ll move everything back the way it was.’

      ‘Would you like a hand?’ The heavy bedframe must have been a bit of a struggle.

      ‘Thanks, but I’ll manage. What else?’

      ‘Well… I’m no expert…’

      ‘Give me your next-door-neighbour opinion.’ His smile sliced through all of Flora’s