When she rocked her hips forwards and invited him inside, Lucien accepted without thought or question. He cradled her body in his arms and thrust slowly, feeling her tightness enfold every inch of him.

She closed her eyes, and he kissed them.

Sophie’s body flowed around him like silk, and it didn’t feel like fucking. It felt like connecting, and soothing, and like other feelings that he didn’t care to give a name to. He slipped his arms around her body under the water as he sensed the beginnings of her orgasm, and as she came he stood and thrust hard, his deft fingers massaging the acorn inside her.

Lucien lost control as Sophie’s hips ground hard against his, as the frantic, erotic pulse of her orgasm around his cock had him coming with her. Water cascaded from their hot bodies as they stilled, and Lucien gently eased the acorn out of her splayed bottom. Sophie buried her face in his neck, exhausted, and for a few seconds, Lucien just held her warmth close against his and watched the light show overhead.

He wasn’t a man given to romance, but the perfect weight of this woman in his arms and the majesty of the skies above them filled him with an unexpected sense of peace.

Moments later he carried her through the quiet rooms of his home with her head on his shoulder, and by the time he lowered her down onto the bed, she was asleep, tear tracks still just visible on her cooling pink cheeks. When he brushed a blonde strand of hair out of her eyes she sighed and turned her face into his palm, looking for comfort in his touch even as she slept.

Long buried emotions forced their way to the surface as he curled around her and spooned her body into his.

Comfort, sweeter than he’d ever found from a woman’s touch.

Fear, spikier than he’d felt for anyone since the day his mother had died.

Anger, sharper than he’d sensed it since the last time he’d laid eyes on his father.

Bile rose in his throat at the thought of the man whose actions had driven his mother to her death.

How dare Sophie’s husband push her to this?

How could he put her at risk for the sake of a cheap thrill?

As Sophie’s husband and Lucien’s father meshed together in his mind, he tightened his hold around her pliant, sleeping form. The quilt settled soft and warm over their shoulders, and he fought to match his heartbeat to her slow, steady breathing pattern.

There was only one thought in his mind as sleep claimed him.

He would protect this woman.

He wouldn’t fail again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Sophie opened her eyes in the half-light of early morning, disorientated by the unfamiliar bed linen and the unfamiliar man sleeping beside her. With one arm flung over his head and the other splayed out to the side, Lucien was utterly peaceful, quite the opposite of his wakeful state. She watched him for a while, trying not to let guilt and dread impinge on the tranquillity of the silent Norwegian dawn. It was something she was never likely to see again. After today, she’d never wake up next to Lucien Knight again.

Real life seemed a world away, but within twenty-four hours she’d be back in her own little house with her own big problems. She closed her eyes for a minute and breathed deeply, then opened them again slowly.

She was ready. Now fully awake and resolved to make the very best of the day, she slid out of bed and into the white towelling robe that hung on a hook on the back of the door, then headed downstairs in search of coffee.

Twenty minutes later, Lucien found her sitting on the deck with a fur blanket around her shoulders and a steaming mug of coffee cradled in her hands.

“You’re up early.” His breath crystallised in the cold morning air.

Sophie nodded and reached for the cafetière and extra mug she’d prepared for him. He looked lethally gorgeous in black lounge pants and nothing else, the tight buds of his nipples the only indication that he felt the chill on his sculpted body.

“Coffee?”

“Swim?” He inclined his head towards the still, glittering waters of the fjord.

“Are you kidding? It’s freezing out here.”

In answer, he dropped his lounge pants and stood naked on the deck.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

Sophie stared at him, dry mouthed with surprise and lust at the sight of him naked. His cock sprang to attention despite the temperature. She was fast learning that it always did.

She ran her tongue over her lips, and Lucien’s appreciative eyes flickered, assessing her reaction.

“Hold that thought, Ms. Black.”

He turned and strode out on the small jetty that butted into the water from the decking, giving Sophie the chance to admire his taut rear and the wolf lounging across his shoulder blades. Without hesitation or a backward glance, he executed a perfect dive and sliced into the icy waters of the fjord.

Sophie breathed in sharply as he surfaced and shook the water from his hair, droplets shimmering all around him in the pale morning sunlight.

Jesus, he was magnificent. She watched the water sluice over his muscles as he carved through it with long purposeful strokes that barely rippled the surface. When he climbed back onto the deck a few minutes later and strode towards her, Sophie was quivering in anticipation. She set her cup down, for fear of giving herself away with spilled coffee. Watching Lucien emerge from the lake deserved one hundred percent of her attention. Move over Mr. Darcy, there’s a new man in town.

“Coffee?” she croaked, repeating her earlier question, now unable to look away from his fast approaching washboard midriff.

In answer, he pushed the fur blanket away from her body, lifted her clean out of the chair, and threw her over his shoulder.

The shock of his unexpected move made her yelp and bang her fists on his back. No! Was he going to throw her in the water?

“Lucien, put me down! I can’t swim!” She wriggled ineffectively, and he paused to lift her robe and lightly smack her naked, exposed bottom.

“Behave. You’re not going in the fjord.”

Sophie stilled. “Where are we going then?”

Lucien’s fingers caressed where they had stung her a moment before.

“Back to bed. I want you for breakfast.”

After a second, more nutritionally though less sexually satisfying breakfast of scrambled eggs and smoked salmon, Lucien suggested that Sophie might like to go and choose some walking boots from the boot room by the entrance door.

She looked up, surprised.

“Are we going out?”

“You seemed captivated by the view outside earlier. I thought you might like to see it close up.”

He was right; she’d been thoroughly entranced by the view, especially when it involved a soaking wet, naked Viking. She wasn’t much given to hiking, but for him, she’d give it a go.