worry, but just hold on.”
“I’m so cold.”
“You okay?” Betty asked as he opened her door and then he realized he was blocking the way.
“Fine.” He reached down to pick her up, but she held up her hands.
“I’ve got it. Thanks.”
Axel didn’t fight her and stepped back. He grabbed her luggage from the back and followed her up the path and the few stairs as she punched in a code on the lock box and got the key. His pulse was thundering in his ears, because every fiber in his being was telling him to get away from the water.
Once they were inside, he set her luggage down.
“I’ll pick you up Thursday morning at five.”
“You don’t have to...”
“No, I’ll be outside. Waiting.” He didn’t want to argue with her. He just needed to put some distance between himself and her, the sea, from it all.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll see you Thursday, then.”
Axel nodded and left. He could hear her shut the door behind him. He should’ve offered to help her get groceries. Show her around a bit more.
His father had made it clear that she was his responsibility, but then Calder had been his responsibility too and look how that had turned out.
He’d show her the ropes of the surgical floor in Reykjavik, but that was all.
That was all he could give.
THERE WAS A knocking at Betty’s door early the next morning. An incessant pounding that permeated into her dreams and gave her a raging headache. She opened her eyes, rolling over and looking at the clock on the nightstand. It was nine in the morning Icelandic time, which meant that it was four in the morning in New York City.
Good Lord.
Betty rubbed her eyes and heard the pounding again. It startled her.
Who was at her door? She knew no one here, except Axel and his father and it wouldn’t be either of them. Would it?
She clambered out of bed, jammed her glasses on her face, threw a sweater over her tank top, pulled on her heavy woolen socks and made her way downstairs, bumping into a wall as her eyes adjusted to the daylight.
She cursed under her breath and then peeked through the peephole and groaned when she saw a familiar six-foot Viking standing on her porch, looking just as good and put together as he had yesterday.
What does he want?
She opened the door a crack. “What?”
Axel’s gaze raked her up and down, just as it had when they’d first met. It was unnerving.
“You just open the door to strangers?” he asked, annoyed.
“You drove me home. You’re hardly a stranger.”
“You don’t know me.”
She ran her hand through her hair and tried to stifle a yawn. “So, you’ve come to my place, early in the morning, on my first full day in Iceland to give me a lecture on stranger danger?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Stranger danger? I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”
“It’s...” Betty trailed off. Clearly it was a language-barrier thing and she didn’t have the patience or brain power to explain the phrase’s meaning to him or argue about it with him. “What do you want, Axel?”
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“Sure.” She opened the door wider and he slipped inside. She closed the door and crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe for support.
“You look terrible,” he said.
“It’s called jet lag and I was sleeping until I was rudely interrupted.”
“The only way to beat jet lag is to pretend it’s not real.”
“Really?”
“Yes, you should’ve got up a couple hours ago and started your day.”
“Look, have you just come to insult me or are you here for a reason?
Axel glanced over his shoulder. “Let’s have some coffee.”
And before she could argue he was striding into her small kitchen and rifling through her cupboards. What was with this guy?
Betty followed him, still a bit woozy from her lack of sleep. She tripped over a rug in the hall and Axel reached out to steady her, stopping her from doing a face-plant. His strong arms were around her once again and she was completely mortified.
“You’re not too nimble on your feet,” he said with a hint of humor in his voice.
She pushed out of his arms. “Axel, what’re you doing here? I know you didn’t just drive all the way over here to make me coffee.”
He turned back to the coffeemaker. “I’ve come to check on you and make sure you know your way around the city. Also to make sure you get food.”
She wanted to tell him that she was fine, but she wasn’t. She knew a few Icelandic words and phrases thanks to her father’s teaching, but last night when she’d been struggling with jet lag she’d tried looking up stores in Reykjavik and couldn’t make heads or tails of the names.
“That would be great,” she said. “I’ll go get dressed.”
Axel nodded. “Good. Don’t trip going up the stairs.”
Betty glared at him and took the stairs slowly, just so he wouldn’t keep remarking on her klutzy tendencies. She wasn’t such a klutz when it came to the operating room. When she was there she was in her element.
Was she?
She tried not to think about Thomas. About how he had always been in the operating room with her. Always the lead surgeon. At first, she’d loved having him there. It had been reaffirming. Thomas had been her teacher and he’d given her strength.
But since his betrayal his presence had annoyed her and shaken her confidence to the core, which was another reason why she was here. She was determined to prove to herself that she didn’t need anyone’s assistance when it came to surgery. That she was better than she thought she was.
She got dressed and made herself presentable. By the time she was done brushing her hair she could smell the coffee brewing downstairs.
When she came back down into the kitchen Axel handed her a cup. She took a sip and it was
