Festive Fling With The Single Dad. Annie Claydon

looking after him for Esme Ross-Wylde.’ Aksel must know who Esme was if he was working at the canine therapy centre. Charles and Esme Ross-Wylde were a brother and sister team, Charles running the Heatherglen Castle Clinic, and Esme the canine therapy centre. ‘He’s a rescue dog and Esme’s trying to find him a good home.’

      ‘You can’t take him?’ Aksel’s blue gaze swept up towards her, and Flora almost gasped at its intensity.

      ‘No…no, I’d like to but…’ Flora had fallen in love with the puppy almost as soon as she’d seen him. He’d been half-starved and frightened of his own shadow when he’d first been found, but as soon as he’d been given a little care his loving nature had emerged. The strange markings on his shaggy brindle coat and his odd ears had endeared him to Flora even more.

      ‘It wouldn’t be fair to leave him alone all day while you were at work.’ Aksel’s observation was exactly to the point.

      ‘Yes, that’s right. I drop him off at the canine therapy centre and they look after him during the day, but that’s a temporary arrangement. Dougal’s been abandoned once and at the moment he tends to panic whenever he’s left alone.’

      Aksel nodded. A few quiet words to Kari, that Flora didn’t understand, and the Labrador fetched a play ball from her basket, dropping it in front of Dougal. Dougal got the hint and started to push it around the room excitedly, the older dog carefully containing him and helping him play.

      Aksel went through the process of searching through the kitchen cupboards again, finding a baking sheet to put the mince pies on and putting them in the oven to warm. The water in the copper kettle had boiled and he took it off the stove, tipping a measure of coffee straight into it. That was new to Flora, and if it fitted exactly with Aksel’s aura of a mountain man, it didn’t bode too well for the taste of the coffee.

      ‘I hear you’re an explorer.’ Someone had to do the getting-to-know-you small talk and Flora was pretty sure that wasn’t part of Aksel’s vocabulary. He raised his eyebrows in reply.

      ‘It said so in the memo.’

      ‘I used to be an explorer.’ The distinction seemed important to him. ‘I’m trained as a vet and that’s what I do now.’

      ‘I’ve never met anyone who used to be an explorer before. Where have you been?’

      ‘Most of South America. The Pole….’

      Flora shivered. ‘The Pole? North or South?’

      ‘Both.’

      That explained why she’d seen him setting off from his cottage early this morning, striding across the road and into the snow-dappled countryside beyond, with the air of a man who was just going for a walk. And the way that Aksel seemed quite comfortable in an open-necked shirt when the temperature in the kitchen made Flora feel glad of the warm sweater she was wearing.

      ‘So you’re used to the cold.’

      Aksel smiled suddenly. ‘Let’s go into the sitting room.’

      He tipped the coffee from the kettle into two mugs, opening the oven to take the mince pies out and leading the way through the hallway to the sitting room. As he opened the door, Flora felt warmth envelop her, along with the scent of pine.

      The room was just the same as the kitchen. Comfortable and yet it seemed that Aksel’s presence here had made no impact on it. Apart from the mix of wood and pine cones burning in the hearth, it looked as if he’d added nothing of his own to the well-furnished rental cottage.

      Kari had picked the dog toy up in her mouth, and Dougal followed her into the room. She lay down on the rug in front of the fire, and the puppy followed suit, his tail thumping on the floor as Kari dropped the toy in front of him.

      ‘He’ll be hot in here. I should take his coat off.’ Flora couldn’t help grimacing as she said the words. Dougal liked the warm dog coat she’d bought for him, and getting him out of it wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Perhaps he’d realise that they were in company, and not make so much of a fuss this time.

      Sadly not. As soon as he realised Flora’s intent, the little dog decided that this was the best of all times for a game of catch-me-if-you-can. When she knelt, trying to persuade him out from under the coffee table, he barked joyously, darting out to take refuge under a chair.

      She followed him, shooting Aksel an apologetic glance. His broad grin didn’t help. Clearly he found this funny.

      ‘He thinks this is a game. You’re just reinforcing that by joining in with him. Come and drink your coffee, he’ll come to you soon enough.’

      Right. The coffee. Flora had been putting off the moment when good manners dictated that she’d have to take her first sip. But what Aksel said made sense, and he obviously had some experience in the matter. Flora sat down, reaching for her mug.

      ‘This is…nice.’ It was nice. Slightly sweeter than she was used to and with clear tones of taste and scent. Not what she’d expected at all.

      ‘It’s a light roast. This is a traditional Norwegian method of making it.’

      ‘The easiest way when you’re travelling as well.’ A good cup of coffee that could be made without the need for filters or machines. Flora took another mouthful, and found that it was even more flavoursome than the first.

      ‘That too. Only I don’t travel any more.’ He seemed to want to make that point very clear, and Flora thought that she heard regret in his tone. She wanted to ask, but Dougal chose that moment to come trotting out from under the chair to nuzzle at Aksel’s legs.

      He leaned forward, picking the little dog up and talking quietly to him in Norwegian. Dougal seemed to understand the gist of it, although Flora had no idea what the conversation was about, and Aksel had him out of the dog coat with no fuss or resistance.

      ‘That works.’ She shot Aksel a smile and he nodded, lifting Dougal down from his lap so that he could join Kari by the fire.

      ‘You’re not from Scotland, are you?’ He gave a half-smile in response to Flora’s querying look. ‘Your accent sounds more English.’

      He had a good ear. Aksel’s English was very good, but not many people could distinguish between accents in a second language.

      ‘My father’s a diplomat, and I went to an English school in Italy. But both my parents are Scots, my dad comes from one of the villages a few miles from here. Cluchlochry feels like home.’

      He nodded. ‘Tell me about the clinic.’

      ‘Surely Dr Sinclair’s told you all you need to know…’

      ‘Yes, he has.’ Aksel shot her a thoughtful look, and Flora nodded. Of course he wanted to talk about the place that was going to be Mette’s home for the next six weeks. Aksel might be nice to look at—strike that, the man was downright gorgeous—but in truth the clinic was about all they had in common.

      The first thing that Aksel had noticed about Flora was her red coat, standing out in the feeble light of a cold Saturday morning. The second, third and fourth things had come in rapid and breathtaking succession. Her fair hair, which curled around her face. The warmth in her honey-brown eyes. Her smile. The feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that he liked her smile, very much.

      It was more than enough to convince Aksel to keep his distance. He’d always thought that dating a woman should be considered a privilege, and it was one that he’d now lost. Lisle had made it very clear that he wasn’t worthy of it, by not even telling him that they’d conceived a child together. And now that he had found out about his daughter, Mette was his one and only priority.

      But when he’d realised that Flora worked at the clinic, keeping his distance took on a new perspective. He should forget about the insistent craving that her scent awakened, it