Christmas With Her Daredevil Doc

‘So I won’t actually get to see a geyser going up?’ she asked.

‘Oh, you will.’ He smiled. ‘Strokkur erupts pretty much about every ten minutes. And if you have a slow-mo setting on your phone, I’d recommend that because then you’ll really see how it works. The water at the top of the pool is cooler and acts as a kind of lid to the hot water below, so the pressure builds up and then you can see it boil over and the geyser erupts. Then it leaves a sinkhole and the water drains back in, and the cycle starts all over again.’

She could see a circle of people standing round what she assumed was the geyser, and then suddenly a massive plume of water shot into the air. ‘Oh! That’s amazing.’

‘Let’s go and get a better view,’ he said, and walked with her to where everyone was standing.

As he’d suggested, she filmed it on slow-mo. ‘Dani would’ve loved this,’ she said wistfully. So would Evan, though she didn’t say it.

Then, as they moved deeper into the fields, his fingers accidentally brushed against hers. Again, she felt that swoop of butterflies in her stomach; and when she caught his eye, she was pretty sure it was the same for him.

What were they going to do about it? Ignore it? Or see where it led them?

There wasn’t any future in it. Couldn’t be. After the end of this week they’d be in different countries, thousands of miles apart, and he’d said nothing about returning to England.

The sky had turned the deepest summery blue, and the scenery was amazing. There were little puffs of steam rising from underground pools, and a tiny pot that produced a bubbling spout a few centimetres tall. Sam seemed to be careful to keep a little distance between them when he showed her the site of the old Geysìr, now just a pool with the occasional bubble to remind you that the water was extremely hot, and the twin pools of Blesi—one perfectly clear so you could see into the yawning cavern beneath it, and one that was the most amazing milky azure blue.

‘The milky colour’s from silicates in the water,’ he said. ‘That’s the cool one—it’s only about forty degrees Celsius.’

‘Cool?’ she asked.

‘The other one’s hotter,’ he said.

‘The milky blue pool: is that what the Blue Lagoon’s like?’ she asked.

‘Pretty much. We can go there this evening, if you like—that’s provided we can get a ticket, because evenings are pretty popular,’ he added.

‘I’d like that.’ She smiled at him.

‘Give me a second.’ He made a quick phone call, and she noticed that he spoke in fluent Icelandic. ‘OK. We’re in luck—I’ve booked us in.’

‘Thank you.’

They had dinner at a little village outside the city—lamb stew and rye bread, followed by blueberries and thick Icelandic yoghurt—and then stopped off firstly at her hotel so she could pick up her swimming things and then at his seafront apartment so he could pick up his.

‘I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed,’ she said as they sat in the warm water of the lagoon, her face covered in a mask of white silica and an ice-cold smoothie in her hand.

‘That’s what this is meant to be about,’ he said with a smile.

‘This must be amazing in the winter—sitting in a hot pool under the stars.’

‘And with the rocks all covered in snow,’ he agreed. ‘It’s pretty.’

Their gazes met, and for a second she thought he was going to kiss her.

He didn’t, but she could feel the anticipation brewing between them as he drove them back to the city and parked outside his apartment building. Every time they’d accidentally touched that day, she’d been so aware of him. And she didn’t think she was alone in that reaction.

‘Shall we walk along the harbour again to catch the sunset?’ he asked.

‘That’d be nice.’

At her hotel, he turned to face her. ‘Goodnight, Hayley.’

‘Goodnight. Thank you for such a lovely day.’

‘My pleasure. Would you like to see the glacier, waterfalls and beaches tomorrow, if it looks as if it’ll be dry?’

Spending more time with him? Part of her thought it was a good idea; part of her didn’t. But she found herself agreeing.

‘You’ll need sturdy shoes,’ he said.

‘And a waterproof, just in case the weather changes?’

He smiled. ‘Yes. Wear layers. And hiking trousers are better than jeans, if you have them—we’re going to get wet by the waterfalls, plus they’re better protection than denim against the wind.’ And then the look in his dark eyes grew more intense. He lifted one hand and placed it gently against her cheek. In answer, she tipped her head back very slightly. And then he brushed his lips against hers—more asking than demanding. She slid her arms round his waist, and he kissed her again, his lips teasing hers until she opened her mouth and let him deepen the kiss.

Desire flooded through her, mixed with a dose of guilt. But this wasn’t being unfaithful to Evan. He wouldn’t have wanted her to spend her life alone and mourning him. He would’ve wanted her to keep seeing the joy in life and focus on the good stuff. Sam Price was the first man she’d wanted to kiss since she’d lost Evan. And this was meant to be the Year of Saying Yes. So she leaned into Sam, kissing him back.

When he finally broke the kiss, there was a dark slash of colour along his cheekbones and his mouth was reddened; she was pretty sure that she looked in the same state.

‘Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I’ll meet you here at nine—if that’s not too early?’

‘That’s perfect,’ she said.

And she couldn’t wait.

CHAPTER THREE (#u774e7069-05ba-50bb-9c66-e67f952f7057)

ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, Hayley walked out of her hotel at nine on the dot to see Sam walking towards her from his car.

‘Perfect timing,’ she said with a smile.

‘Absolutely,’ he agreed.

Hayley tingled right down to her toes. Crazy how this man made her feel like a teenager. It had been a long, long time since she’d felt butterflies in her stomach just at the sight of someone.

‘Before we go,’ she said carefully, ‘I think we ought to talk about last night.’

He nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.’

This was the crunch moment. ‘I’m not sorry,’ she said, and watched his eyes darken. ‘We’re both single.’

‘So are you saying...?’

That maybe, just maybe, a holiday romance would be good for both of them. No strings, no consequences, no promises. And no depth, so saying goodbye would be easy. ‘You’re getting over a bad break-up. I’m getting over my partner’s death. We’re both...a bit stuck where we are, I guess. Neither of us wants anything permanent right now.’

He seemed to be following her thought processes exactly. ‘But a holiday romance might help us both move on,’ he said.

She nodded. ‘With an end date. I’m only here for a couple more days.’ Neither of them would get hurt in such a short space of time.