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‘What’s that?’ Flora pointed to a box of jumbo-sized dominoes and Mette opened it, tipping the contents onto the floor. ‘Oh, dominoes! I love dominoes…’
‘Would you like to play?’ The words slipped out before Aksel could stop them. He wanted to watch her with Mette for just a little longer.
Flora treated the request as if it was an invitation to a tour of the seven wonders of the world. Mette couldn’t resist her excited smile and gave an emphatic ‘Yes!’
‘Shall we do that thing first…?’ Mette took a few uncertain steps towards Flora, clearly wanting to know what that thing was. Aksel wanted to know too. ‘Where you stand them all up in a row and then knock them down again?’
Flora started to gather the dominoes together, putting them in a pile on the floor. ‘It’s such fun. Your papa will show you, I can never get them to balance properly.’
That was a ruse to get him involved. But Flora could manipulate him as much as she liked if this was the result. Aksel sat down on the floor, and started to line the dominoes up in a spiral pattern, seeing his own hand shake with emotion as he did so. Flora and Mette were both watching him intently, Mette bending forward to see.
‘Spirals, eh? Show-off…’ Flora murmured the words and Aksel felt his shoulders relax suddenly. Maybe this wasn’t so difficult after all.
When Flora walked out to her car, it was already getting dark. She’d stayed longer than she’d intended with Aksel and Mette, and the work that she’d expected to take an hour had taken two. That might be something to do with the daydreaming. Aksel’s bulk and strength and the gentle vulnerability that little blonde-haired, blue-eyed Mette brought out in him were downright mouth-watering.
He was so anxious to please and yet so awkward with his daughter. Aksel watched over Mette’s every move, ready to catch her if there was even the smallest likelihood that she might fall. He meant well, but he was smothering her.
Not your business, Flora. Dr Sinclair will deal with it.
Lyle Sinclair had a way of taking patients or their families aside and gently suggesting new ways of looking at things. And Lyle would have the advantage of not feeling quite so hot under the collar at the mere thought of a conversation with Aksel.
‘Flora!’
Flora closed her eyes in resignation at the sound of his voice. However hard she tried to escape him… When she turned and saw him striding across the car park towards her, she didn’t want to escape him at all.
‘I wanted to thank you.’
He’d done that already. More than once, and in as many words as Aksel seemed capable of.
‘It was my pleasure. I always bring a little gift for the children, to make them feel welcome.’ She’d told him that already, too. They could go on for ever like this, repeating the same things over and over again.
‘I…’ He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘You have a way with children.’
He made it sound as if it was some kind of supernatural power. Flora frowned. ‘Children are just…people. Only they’re usually a bit more fun.’
‘You have a way with people, then.’
It was a nice compliment, especially since it was accompanied by his smile. Something was bugging him, but she wasn’t the right person to speak to about it. She had too much baggage…
Baggage or experience? Experience was something that she could use to help her get things right this time. She’d been an impressionable teenager when she’d loved Tom, but she knew better now. There was no cosmic rule that said she had to fall for Aksel, and she could handle the regrets over never being able to trust a man enough to build a relationship. If that meant that she’d never be able to sit on the floor and play dominoes with her own child, she could deal with that, too.
Flora turned, opening the rear door of her car and dumping her bags in the footwell. Then she faced him. If all he had to throw at her were longing and regret, she’d already made her peace with them, a long time ago.
‘You’ve said “Thank you” already, there’s no need for us to stand in the cold here while you say it again. What’s bugging you?’
That was obviously confronting. But the slight twitch at the corners of his mouth told Flora that challenge was one of the things that he thrived on.
He took a breath, as if preparing himself. ‘My relationship with Mette’s mother was over before Mette was born and we never lived together as a family.’
What was he trying to say? That he’d been an absent father who hardly knew his own child? His obvious commitment to his daughter made that difficult to believe.
‘And now?’
‘I can’t bring her mother back, or her sight. But I’d give anything to make her happy and…’ He shrugged. ‘It’s not working. When I saw you with her this afternoon, I saw how much it wasn’t working.’
Flora thought quickly. Aksel needed the kind of professional help that didn’t fall within her area of expertise.
‘Maybe you should talk to Lyle Sinclair. The clinic has a family counsellor who deals with just these kinds of issues, and Lyle could organise a session for you both.’
He shook his head abruptly. ‘Mette’s just fine the way she is. I won’t put her into counselling just because I need to change.’
‘Maybe it’s not about change, but just getting to know each other better. Kathy uses storytelling a lot in her sessions, to make things fun. I’m sure you have plenty of stories about the places you’ve been—’
‘No.’ That sounded like a hard limit. ‘That part of my life is over. Mette needs to know that I’ll be there for her, always. That I’m not about to leave, and go to places that she can’t.’
His heart was in the right place, but his head was way off course, and lost without a map or compass. This wassomething she could help with; Flora had grown up with a brother who hadn’t always been able to do the things that she had. When Alec had been ill, she’d learned how to go out into the world, and to bring something back to share with her brother when she got home.
‘Who says that you can’t go together?’ Flora gave an imperious twitch of her finger, indicating that he should follow her, and started to walk.
Flora seemed impatient with him, as if he was stubbornly refusing to see a simple fact that was obvious to her. On one level, Aksel just wanted to see her smile again. But on another, much more urgent level, he reckoned that Flora could be just as annoyed as she liked, if only it meant that she’d tell him what he was doing wrong. The first lesson he needed to learn was how to follow, rather than lead, and he walked beside her silently.
They reached the gravel driveway outside the clinic, and Flora stopped. ‘You think that Mette doesn’t know what it’s like to be an explorer?’
The warmth in her eyes had been replaced by fire. Aksel swallowed down the thought that he liked that fire, and concentrated on the point that Flora seemed about to make.
‘You’re going to tell me different, aren’t you?’
‘Just think about it. She can feel the gravel under her feet, and she can hear it scrunch. If she bends down, she can probably see it. She can feel the snow…’ Flora broke off, turning her face up towards the flakes that had started to drift down, and one landed on her cheek. Aksel resisted the temptation to brush it away with his finger, and it melted almost immediately.
‘But she can’t see any of this.’ He turned towards the mountains in the distance. He’d give his own sight if Mette could just appreciate the beauty of the world around her.
‘Exactly. That’s where you come in. She needs someone to explore with her, and tell her about the things she can’t see for herself.’
‘And if it’s upsetting for her?’
‘Then you respond to what she’s feeling and stop. Just as long as it’s Mette who’s upset by it, and not you.’
She had a point, and this was a challenge he couldn’t resist. Aksel’s head was beginning to buzz with ideas. ‘Maybe I could take a photograph of them. She might be able to hold that up close and see it.’
‘Now you’re thinking… Speak to Lyle and find out whether he thinks that might work for Mette.’ Flora seemed to know that she’d lit a fuse and she wasn’t taking cover. She wanted more from him.
‘Maybe she’d like to go this way.’ He started to walk towards the small, sheltered garden at the side of the property and found that Flora was no longer with him. She was standing still, her hands in her pockets, and one eyebrow raised slightly.
If that was the way she wanted to play it. Aksel returned to her side, holding out his arm. ‘I’m going to have to guide her there, of course.’
She nodded, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. A frisson of excitement accompanied the feel of her falling into step beside him, and Aksel turned his mind to describing the things around them. The darkening bulk of the stone built castle. The sky, still red from the setting sun, and the clouds off to the east, which promised more snow for tonight.
She slipped so easily into a child-like wonder at the things around her. Aksel was considering asking Flora if she might accompany him and Mette when they set out on their own voyage of exploration, but he guessed what her answer might be.
No. You have to do it yourself.
‘Careful…!’ He’d seen her reach for a rose bush to one side of the path, and Aksel automatically caught her hand, pulling it away. ‘It has thorns.’
Something that had been simmering deep beneath the surface began to swell, almost engulfing him. The thought of rose petals, wet with summer rain and vainly attempting to rival the softness of Flora’s cheeks, made him shiver.
‘All roses do.’ She turned her gaze onto him, and Aksel saw a sudden sadness, quickly hidden. ‘Will you let Mette miss the rose because of its thorns?’
That was a hard thought to contemplate. Aksel guided her hand, so that her fingers could brush the leaves. ‘You must be gentle. In the summer, the rose is the softest of blooms, but the thorns will still hurt you.’
He let her fingers explore the leaves and then the stem, touching the thorns carefully. It seemed to him that the thorns of this world had done Flora some damage, but that she still chose to see roses. She had room in her heart for both Mette and for Dougal, and yet she lived alone. He wanted to ask why, but he didn’t dare.
Flora looked up at him suddenly. ‘What’s next for us to explore, then?’
A whole spectrum of senses and experiences, none of which involved asking personal questions. Aksel took her to the trunk of an old tree, which twisted against the castle wall, and she followed the rough curves of its bark with her fingers. He explained the eerie wail of a fox, drifting towards them from somewhere beyond his own range of vision. The temptation to draw her closer, and let his body shelter her against the wind, hammered against him.
‘I can hear water…’ Flora seemed intent on playing this game out.
‘Over here.’ A small stream trickled past the flower beds, curving its way out into the surrounding countryside. Flora’s excitement seemed real, and he wondered whether she was play-acting or not.
‘I don’t think I can get across…’ Mette wouldn’t be able to jump to the other side, so neither could Flora.
The temptation was just too great. He could justify it by saying that this was what he would have done with Mette, or he could just give in to it and enjoy. Right now, the urge to just enjoy was thundering in his veins.
‘I could carry you.’ He called her bluff, wondering who’d be the first to blink.
‘You’re sure you won’t drop me?’
He was about to tell her that he’d carried heavier weights, over much more difficult terrain, and then he realised that Flora was looking him up and down. This was a challenge that he couldn’t back off from.
‘Let’s find out.’ He wound his arm around her back, waiting for her to respond, and Flora linked her hands behind his neck. Then he picked her up in his arms.
Stepping 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 (#u6b4c1643-0590-5e0f-b459-9744998a0d45)
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.’
