Chapter Twelve
Diana
I’m so exhausted my eyeballs feel like lead weights in my skull. I blink, try to refocus on the words I was just reading. But the text shifts, blurs, no matter how hard I squint.
I give up and lean back in my chair. My eyelids give up the fight and I close my eyes.
Two days. Two days of nonstop working to come up with the new draft of the proposal.
A draft I started on my phone on the ride back from Reykjavik.
Not only did I have a lot of work to do, but it gave me something else to focus on besides Ari.
Ari and his promise that we were going to talk about us.
The muscles in my shoulders clench, the tightness traveling up my neck to my head.
…we both know that’s impossible.
He didn’t say another word on the drive back, other than to answer any work-related questions I had.
He dropped me off at the hotel to change so I didn’t walk in wearing the same dress as yesterday.
That would have started a flurry of rumors I had no interest in dealing with.
Once I arrived at AuraGeothermal, I went straight to the conference room to meet with the teams. Ari had already shown up and disappeared into his office.
I didn’t see him for nearly twenty-four hours. Someone told me he and Xenakis had gone out for site visits to some of the other geothermal fields. When he walked into the conference room yesterday afternoon, I only felt the tiniest spark of heat.
Okay. Maybe a small flame. But I still kept things calm, cool. He did, too, as he told us about a successful meeting with Xenakis before Hellas Shipping’s team had done another review and added their own corrections, after which the proposal had come back to Ari’s team and me.
The team left two hours ago. I should have, too. But I stayed, reading and rereading it, tweaking the occasional word and cross-referencing the final draft with all of the feedback we received.
“You look exhausted.”
I bite back a shriek as I sit bolt-upright in my chair.
He’s standing in the doorway, legs spread, hands tucked into the pockets of his suit. Black, like always. His shoulders are thrown back, his handsome face smooth. The same powerful stance, the same focus I’ve seen for over a week.
“I sent the proposal to Xenakis ten minutes ago.”
My mouth drops open. “What?”
“Jon told me that the team had completed the final draft this evening. I reviewed it myself and sent it. Xenakis returned to Greece this afternoon.”
I frown. “Why?”
“His daughter is pregnant with her first child. A month early, but they had reason to believe she was very close to going into labor.”
Some of the pieces click into place. “That’s why he’s been short-tempered and unfocused.”
Ari nods. “He’s promised to give me an answer by the end of the week. I’ve given everyone who’s been working on this the next two days off.”
My lips curve up. “That’s generous.”
“There’s somewhere I’d like to take you tomorrow. Tingvellir National Park.”
The invitation throws me for a loop. I should say no. But Tingvellir is one of the places on my wish list to visit. I said something to that effect to Malla yesterday during one of our breaks.
“You’re not playing fair.”
The smirk disappears. His eyes darken, grow heated.
“No. I’m not.”
The logical part of me is shouting to say no, to step back. A twisted, self-deprecating part of me wants to spend just a little more time with him before we talk about what happened between us at Reynisfjara. Before I make it clear we can’t repeat that again.
“All right.”
Triumph flares in his eyes. “Two o’clock tomorrow. Sleep well.”
And then he’s gone, leaving me with the sinking sensation that I have just said yes to the devil.
I decide the next day that, devil or not, the deal was more than worth it.
I’m standing on the stone deck of Fontana hot springs.
We drove through the snowy moors of the park, occasionally catching a glimpse here and there through the shifting mist and snow.
Ari refused to tell me where we were headed until he pulled into the parking lot of the springs, a small complex that sits on the shores of the lake.
Behind me is a low-lying building that houses the lobby, café, and locker rooms. The deck hosts several pools, all with varying temperatures and setups.
One is shallow, with random balls of stone to lean against and bubbling springs creating bubbles on the surface.
Another is fashioned out of rock, a giant hot tub perched on the edge of the lake.
There are several showers, a wooden building that houses a couple of saunas, and farther out, a dock that stretches out onto the lake.
Aside from a couple people in the locker room who were packing up leave, there’s no one else there.
It should be bleak. So much gray, the visibility limited by the mist. But it’s not. It’s soothing, calm. Standing there with light snow falling, wrapped in a robe, I’m content. I can’t remember the last time I felt this way.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I breathe in that delicious scent of cedar and something darker.
“It is.”
I turn and inhale sharply. With the snow lightly dusting his hair and a slight smile lurking about his lips, all I can think is that he looks like a Norse god brought to life.
“Which one should we get in first?”
He holds up a finger, then walks over to a small glass door built into the massive window that stretches across the face of the building. A young man walks up and opens the hatch. Ari orders in Icelandic, and a moment later, he’s handing me a tall plastic flute filled with sparkling, golden liquid.
“Now you can decide which pool you want to get in.”
I shouldn’t like this. Shouldn’t enjoy these luxuries—luxuries made even more special because they’re coming from him.
I make a good salary, but not enough to feel comfortable indulging in extravagances like this on a regular basis.
There’s always that sense of what-if. What if the worst should happen and I lose my job?
I always live in a state of alert, of preparation.
Something, I realize, I’ve never fully acknowledged. Even when I told myself I had a good life, I’ve always lived each moment not with embracing but with reservation. Always holding myself back and waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Diana?”
I jolt myself out of my reverie and look up at Ari.
“The rock one.”
He stares at me for a moment longer, but doesn’t say anything, just gestures for me to lead the way. When we get there, he holds out a hand for my champagne. Suddenly shy, my hand stills on the belt of my robe.
He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d take care of everything.
When he picked me up from the hotel this morning, there had been a black bag with gold lettering waiting for me: hiking boots, a wool coat, a thick scarf, and mittens.
Three swimsuits in varying jewel shades, all one-piece and all with high backs that covered my scars.
The women getting dressed in the locker room probably thought I was crazy, tearing up as I pulled each suit out.
Liam, Aislinn, and I always bought presents for each other on our birthdays and at Christmas, would fight over the check whenever we all went out to eat.
But I can’t remember the last time someone spontaneously bought me a gift. Not just a gift—clearly, they said how well he knew me.
I keep my gaze focused on the lake as I finally pull the belt and shrug out of the robe, draping it over the railing. The cold air brushes over my skin and sends a not-unpleasant shiver through my body. I face Ari. His eyes glow hot as he takes in the classic red swimsuit with the scooped neck.
“Good choice.”
“Thank you.” I hold out my hands, take both his glass and mine, and say, “And thank you. You didn’t have to.”
“No. But I wanted to.”
My reply dies on my lips as he takes off his robe, revealing the carved muscles of his chest. I don’t even realize I’m staring until he quietly clears his throat. Mortified, I hand him back his champagne.
“Thank you.”
I narrow my eyes at the smug humor in his voice before stepping into the water. The sudden shock of the heat against the cold air on my skin makes me suck in a breath. I pause, waiting for my body to acclimate.
“Take it slow.”
“Yeah,” I gasp out. “Definitely taking it slow.”
“We’ve got all the time in the world.”
I hear it, the promise in his voice. I shiver, then step deeper into the water. It takes a couple of minutes, but finally, I sit down, letting out a satisfied sigh as the water closes over my shoulders.
“What?”
I glance over at Ari. He’s standing a couple of feet away, giving me the space he knows I need, even though I didn’t ask for it out loud.
“More than worth it.”
I take a sip of my champagne, enjoying the bubbles dancing on my tongue.
“Why are you doing this?”
“What?”
I roll my eyes. “You know what. You didn’t have to do this for me.”
He holds his own glass up, studies the bubbles sparkling within.
“My father bought me a Mercedes for my seventeenth birthday.”
I blink. “A Mercedes?”
“Yes. And to celebrate my graduation from primary school, he paid for myself and several school friends to go on a tour of Paris, Rome, and London.”
“Wow.”
“He didn’t do it to be kind. It was all a matter of prestige. Of showing everyone exactly how much money he had by illustrating what he could buy with it. But I still took what he offered. Enjoyed it even.”
He takes a sip of champagne, then suddenly turns and looks right at me.
“I never looked at any of the gifts he gave me with the same gratitude as you looked at a simple pair of shoes.”
My hands tighten on my glass. “It just surprised me, that’s all.”
“You have worked night and day to help my company. You helped us make more progress in just over a week than we’ve made in over a year. I took Xenakis to the field where my parents met. I told him about my grandfather and my mother.”
Pride tightens my throat. “Wow.”
“It wasn’t easy. But you were right. He understood my reasoning for taking the company over.” One corner of his mouth quirks up. “Understands why I gave up my father’s last name and took my mother’s.”
It takes a moment for the implication of that to sink in. But when it does, emotion roots me to the spot.
“Your mother’s name was Valda.”
His face is somber, his eyes glinting with memory as he nods.
“Icelandic last names usually refer to ‘son of’ or ‘daughter of.’ Once I learned the depths of what my father did, I changed my name. My mother taught me far more about honor and commitment than he ever did. He loved profit. She loved her country and its people.” His gaze grows distant as he stares out over the water.
“I didn’t think Xenakis would understand that.
But he did.” He nods toward the lake. “I brought you here because I knew you would enjoy it. It was a small way to say thank you, and,” he adds with another small smile, “to see the look on your face.”
It takes a moment for me to find the simple words I need to say. “Thank you.”
We sit there for a few minutes, enjoying the water, the mist, our drinks. Once I have my emotions under control, I gesture toward the wooden structure near the edge of the lake.
“So sauna after the pool?”
“Not quite.”
Ari stands. Drops of water slide down his chest and over the carved muscles of his stomach. My mouth dries.
“Follow me.”
I down the rest of my champagne and hand my glass to Ari, who hands them to a passing attendant. It takes me a moment to realize he’s bypassing the pools and the saunas and heading for the dock.
“Are you insane?”
He shoots me a small, cocky grin. “You said you wanted the full experience.”
I cross my arms over my chest as the cold starts to settle back in. “Yeah, the warm, relaxing experience.”
I eye the dark surface of the water, not reliving one of the most terrifying moments of my trip here. He stops and turns to me, his face suddenly serious.
“I won’t make you. I will never make you do anything you don’t want to. But,” he adds in a low, seductive voice that reminds me once more of a devil in disguise, “you’ll regret it if you don’t at least try it.”
He’s right. He’s right, and he knows it.
Gritting my teeth, I glare at him. “Fine.”
“Don’t sound so excited, Miss North.”
He walks out onto the dock, his black suit clinging to his firmly rounded buttocks, water droplets clinging to the rippling muscles of his back. He gets to the end and waits for me to join him.
“How deep is it?”
“Here? Three and a half, four feet.”
I suck in a shuddering breath. “Okay. So only freeze to death, not drown.”
He holds out his hand. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I stare down at his outstretched hand, wanting, desiring. I don’t know if I can.
“Don’t look ahead. Just focus on now. On this moment.”
Slowly, I slide my hand into his. His fingers close over mine, a delicious pressure that warms my hand even as winter wraps us in a cold embrace of wet mist and swirling snow.
“Three, two, one.”
I step off the dock. Barely have time to gasp as my body pierces the water.