The Icelandic Doc's Baby Surprise

by Louisa Heaton

  Whilst it cooked she took the time to have a quick shower and shave her legs and paint her nails. She was just blowing air over her fingertips when she heard the front door open.

  ‘I’m back!’

  ‘I’ll be out in just a minute!’

  Excitement and anticipation filled her at the thought of the two of them alone once again. He’d left so early that morning—cheating her out of waking up in his arms—and then they’d spent the day at work, with stressful cases for both of them. Illness and disease didn’t care what time of year it was. It happened no matter what. But she could make time and plan for enjoying herself, and she knew she wanted to take time to enjoy Kristjan.

  Her nails now dry, she slipped a dress over the fancy underwear she’d bought earlier and padded out barefoot to greet him.

  He was standing in the living area, on the rug they’d made love on the night before, loosening his tie. Smiling, she went over to him and went up on tiptoe to give him a welcoming kiss. His beard whiskers tickled for a moment, and then she helped him undo the tie, tossing it over the back of a chair.

  ‘Welcome home.’

  ‘Something smells good.’

  ‘It’s a fish stew. Ploppfishur?’

  He laughed. ‘Close enough. Do I have time to take a shower?’

  She thought about it. She could turn the heat down a little on the stew. ‘I could join you...’

  He smiled. ‘Really?’

  ‘Mmm... Really.’ She stepped closer and began undoing his shirt buttons. ‘Let me help you with this shirt.’

  Her fingers made quick work of the buttons, and she looked up at him and smiled as her hands dipped lower and lower with each button. Then she pulled his shirt from the waistband of his trousers.

  ‘And with this belt...’

  The belt undid easily, and she pulled it from the loops like a whip. Kristjan stared down at her, his breath quickening, as she peeled the shirt from his broad shoulders.

  She took in the round curve of his deltoid muscles and leaned in to inhale his delicious scent and lay her lips upon the hot flesh of his chest. She pulled the shirt down his arms and let it drop to the floor, and then she hooked a finger into the top of his trousers and smiled at him.

  ‘Come with me.’

  Feeling her body tingling in anticipation, she led him towards his en-suite bathroom and reached in to turn on the shower. Then, with the hiss of the water behind them, she began to undo her dress, pulling loose the tie belt at the waist so that it fell open to reveal the black silk underwear she’d bought earlier.

  ‘You like?’

  ‘Very much so.’ His voice husky.

  ‘How about you take a closer look?’

  She took his hands, lifted them to her breasts and let go, closing her eyes in delicious agony as she felt his thumbs sweep over her nipples before rising to pull the bra straps from her shoulders. He stepped closer, reaching round her to undo the hook at the back and then slip the bra off.

  She smiled at him, hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her knickers and pulled them down, stepping neatly out of them and watching in delight as his gaze hungrily roamed her body.

  When he made eye contact once again she stepped forward and undid the button and the zip of his trousers. She reached in beneath his underwear, to take him in her grasp.

  He sucked in a breath and she stood there stroking him, feeling him swell in her firm grip, and she smiled like a devil, pleased with her own power.

  This was like being back in Hawaii—that very first night when they had first met. They had been equals. Each taking their pleasure. Exploring one another for the first time. Learning what they liked.

  Well, Merry knew what he liked. ‘Do you want more?’

  ‘I do.’ His voice was rough, throaty.

  She pulled her hand free and began to slide his trousers down, her mouth dropping kisses all the way down his chest, over his abdomen, whispering in featherlight touches over his obliques knowing he was ticklish there as she pulled down his underwear and took him in her mouth.

  She had never felt more powerful than she did in that moment. Knowing he was at her mercy and he was all hers. She’d never had this before.

  With her husband Mark she had been a passive participant. He’d never needed anything from her except her ability to lie there until he was done. He hadn’t wanted her to touch him, to actively give him pleasure, and the first time she had tried he had scowled and told her that he didn’t like it. That her being ‘sexually aggressive’ as he’d called it, turned him off. To him, the male was the leader during sex and she should know her place.

  It had been a very unsatisfying sex life, and she had been glad when she’d been able to flee his grasp.

  Meeting Kristjan in Hawaii had been a revelation for her. She had explored her own power and what she was capable of doing and it had been refreshing to discover that during intimacy she could ask for things. She could do things she had never tried before. And with every gasp of breath Kristjan had simply signalled to her that she was more powerful than she had ever believed.

  Being intimate with Kristjan had given her power. She’d thrived on it. And in turn she’d been vulnerable and had opened up to Kristjan, who was so experienced in pleasuring a woman, and known that she could give up control and it would be okay. He’d made her feel safe. He’d made her feel adventurous. He’d made her feel equal.

  Now she led Kristjan under the spray of water and their lips met. There was something delicious about the heat of the water on their alert, anticipatory bodies. Every nerve-ending was awaiting his touch as she felt the force and heat of the water pound down upon them, and she was barely aware of the coldness of the black marble tiles as Kristjan pressed her against them, her hands above her head as his lips traced the curve of her neck and shoulder. Her breasts were straining outward, desperate for the caress of his hands and mouth.

  ‘Kristjan...’ she breathed.

  He lifted her up, pulled her legs around his waist as he thrust into her, grinding into her over and over.

  Merry allowed herself to submit to all the delicious feelings in her body. Her tingling nerve-endings. The feel of his mouth upon hers. His large strong hands cupping her buttocks. The water raining down and the feel of him filling her, sliding in and out.

  She could feel her orgasm coming, could feel her excitement building, and she clutched him ever tighter, urging him on. Suddenly her world exploded in a firework display of ecstasy and excitement, with Kristjan coming only seconds afterwards.

  The water continued to pound down as he slowly lowered her feet to the floor of the shower and kissed her gently—her neck, her breasts, her mouth. And then he was holding her face, cupping it in his hands as he kissed her reverently.

  ‘I’ve never had dessert before my main course before.’

  Merry chuckled. ‘And what did you think of it?’

  He smiled, smoothing back her hair from her face. ‘I could definitely make it a habit.’

  * * *

  They had both eaten ravenously afterwards, having second and even third helpings of Merry’s fish stew. She was a good cook, and Kristjan liked it that she was trying new things.

  Life was going well for them, he thought. They got on at home and at work. The sex was great! And he enjoyed her company even when they weren’t lying in each other’s arms.

  But for now they were. Kristjan was spooning Merry’s naked body once again, and the heat of their bodies was making them feel like one.

  He could get used to this. Who knew there were delights to be had when you slept with a woman more than once? He’d always thought of sex as something that was a one-off experience. You had your fun and then you forgot about that woman because there was no point in carrying on. In fact, he’d told himself it was dangerous to do so.

  He’d never done this! And he was su
rprised at how comfortable it made him feel, knowing he could take the time to explore Merry’s body. To enjoy it. Even without sex there was something wonderful about just lying here in her arms. It made him feel...valued. It wasn’t just a desirous wanting, or a need that he felt—though he did feel that too—it was as if she had chosen him. Out of all the men on the planet, she had chosen and found worth in him. Not just once. Not just in a fleeting sexual encounter never to be experienced again. But multiple times. She was staying. She wanted him.

  At least for now, anyway.

  ‘It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow,’ he said.

  ‘I know. The year has gone so fast.’

  ‘On Christmas Eve here, families usually give each other the gift of a book and sit and read in the evening.’

  ‘They do? What kind of books do you like?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve only ever given books to patients before, and I only read for knowledge. It’s been a long time since I had a family.’

  She turned to look at him, stroked his face. ‘You think of us as a family?’

  ‘Aren’t we? In some strange way?’

  Merry smiled. ‘I guess... I’ll get you a book. Tell me what you like.’

  ‘I don’t know... Crime? Thriller?’

  ‘I’ll get you something.’

  He kissed the tip of her nose. He was grateful to have her here, knowing it could still be fleeting. He thought about the news he’d heard just before he’d left work today. He had to tell her. It was the right thing to do.

  ‘They think they’ll be able to clear the mountain pass soon,’ he told her.

  She’d promised to stay until the roads cleared, but that had been before they’d got closer. Had she changed her mind? Did it even matter to her about the roads? She hadn’t said anything.

  Did he feel her stiffen slightly? Tense?

  He sank his nose into her hair, breathed in her scent. Honey blossom. Meadows. She smelt of freedom and the warmth of summer.

  ‘When?’ she asked.

  His heart sank. Did she still plan on leaving? Even though she lay here in his arms? He didn’t want to lose her, but she was a free woman and he wouldn’t tie her down. Mark had restricted her movements; he wouldn’t do the same. He had to trust that she would make the right decision.

  ‘I don’t know. A nurse mentioned it. She’s been hoping to get down to visit her family in Reykjavik.’

  ‘Oh...’

  She pulled his arm tighter around her waist and he took that moment to inhale her scent once again, telling himself that if he trapped the memory in his head he would always be able to feel her near. Always remember this moment in which he had held her in his arms. He hoped this wasn’t the last time. But he wanted to be honest with her. He didn’t want her to hear that he’d known about the roads and chosen not to tell her.

  Kristjan closed his eyes, hoping for the peaceful oblivion of sleep, where none of this mattered. Where he didn’t live in a world where she might leave him behind. Where he didn’t feel the tight fear of her possible desertion in the pit of his gut. Didn’t have that sick feeling that he had had recently, the more he had allowed himself to have feelings. The more he lost control.

  But sleep wouldn’t come.

  And he lay there for hours, hoping that Merry wasn’t already planning in her head for the time when they would separate. Hoping that telling her the news about the mountain pass wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever done in his entire life.

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHRISTMAS EVE MORNING, and Merry didn’t have work until the afternoon—which was good, as there were a few things she needed to sort out in order to give Kristjan the present she was organising. But as she bustled about from place to place in Snowy Peak she couldn’t help but ruminate on the fact that he’d told her last night that the mountain pass might soon give safe passage through the mountain range and back to Reykjavik.

  Where the airport was.

  She could go home.

  If I want to.

  When she’d first got here it had been all she could think about, but now...? Now everything was muddled. Confused. She didn’t know what she felt. Her feelings for Kristjan were complicated now, and their situation... She had no idea what to do for the best.

  If she stayed, what would it mean for them? She loved it here in Snowy Peak. She could easily admit that she had fallen in love with the place—the area, the people, the hospital...

  Kristjan?

  She loved being with him. Loved being in his arms. Loved working with him.

  But was it any more than that? Was she in love with him?

  Merry didn’t want to be. All these years of telling herself never to get involved with a man again and here she was—in deep with the father of her baby!

  As she sat with a latte in one of the coffee shops, she watched the families passing by outside, doing last-minute shopping for friends and family. She watched mothers holding the hands of excited children. She watched fathers as they gave their children shoulder rides to keep them out of the snow. Watched how they would gather snowballs and throw them at each other.

  Would this be her future, her baby’s future, if she stayed here?

  If she did stay, just what would she be committing to?

  She and Kristjan hadn’t made any rules, hadn’t told each other what they were to one another. Was she reading too much into what was happening? Kristjan wasn’t a man of commitment. He’d not told her they were exclusive or anything...

  And if they cleared the mountain pass...if the first of the winter storms had really gone...what would she do? For her baby’s sake?

  Was having two parents the best thing? There were plenty of single parents out there doing a fabulous job of raising happy, well-adjusted children. There were children who split their time between parents and they were doing well too. It was what she had originally planned. But everything was different now. Kristjan was invested in their child and she wasn’t sure her conscience would be clear if she denied him access to their baby.

  But was she too focused on the idea that because she had no parents at all, two were better than one?

  Right now, it was all fun and great sex—but what about when that wore off? She was wary of making the same mistake again, but she kept second-guessing herself. What if this wasn’t a mistake? What if staying in Snowy Peak with Kristjan could be the best thing she ever did?

  I still have time to think about it.

  She headed to the shops, picked up the meat she would need: smoked lamb, ptarmigan—which was apparently the in thing here in Iceland—and ham. Then she picked up veggies from the market, some laufabrauð—leaf bread—from the bakery, and collected the ingredients for a traditional Icelandic rice pudding called möndlu grautur. She’d found the recipe after watching a television show, and had thought that a rice pudding made with whipped cream and almonds sounded amazing.

  As she shopped, she developed the cosy warm feeling that she was just like everybody else. Domesticated and part of a family, so that she could create an amazing Icelandic Christmas for Kristjan. She wanted to do it. He’d put himself out by inviting her to stay—the least she could do was cook. And it felt good!

  Back in the UK she’d often spent Christmas alone, cooking for one, or had made sure she took the day shift at work and had Christmas lunch there when she could grab it. Sometimes it had been nice. Other times Christmas had just proved to her what she didn’t have.

  Even the one Christmas she’d shared with Mark had been so...restrictive. They’d been on honeymoon, for goodness’ sake, and yet Mark had wanted a Christmas like the ones he was used to having at home with his family. Because she had no family traditions of her own she had gone along with it, not aware of the reprisals until much later...

  This Christmas she wanted to do something nice. Maybe start her own traditions. Because next Christ
mas she’d have a son or a daughter, and they might only be a few months old, but it would be their most special Christmas ever!

  What did she want Christmas to mean to her child?

  A special time, just for family, when they would wear matching cosy pyjamas and sip hot chocolate, maybe open just one gift from their Christmas stockings on Christmas Eve! Perhaps they would go to church and light candles and sing carols? Perhaps she would make a Christmas pudding and put a coin in it for one of them to find? Perhaps after Christmas dinner they would go out for a long walk, wrapped up tight in scarves and woolly hats, and perhaps they would have a pet dog to throw sticks for? And she would video the faces of her family as they unwrapped presents and spent the morning playing games and cooking Christmas dinner...and she’d wear a special Christmas apron and...

  Listen to me! Perhaps I do love Christmas after all! Perhaps I do love Kristjan?

  She checked her watch. Nearly time to head for home.

  Home.

  It could be. But even if she decided to stay in Snowy Peak, wasn’t it presumptuous to assume that she and Kristjan would continue to live together? Wasn’t it time she looked for her own place?

  There was a local paper in the café that had properties listed in the back. It didn’t mean anything...she was just checking out all her options.

  She looked them over, circled a couple that could be promising, and then she headed back.

  * * *

  When she got to work, the majority of the staff were dressed in costumes.

  Kristjan had on red Santa trousers held up by brown leather braces over a checked shirt, sleeves rolled up at the cuffs, looking like a Santa who’d just spent a couple of good hours in his workshop. The nurses were dressed as elves and angels and shepherds. She felt totally out of place in her normal everyday clothes, so she went and borrowed the elf outfit she’d worn before, when she’d lost that bet with Kristjan.