Page 8 of Captured in Love
After a while, the rumbling of the car’s wheels on the single-lane road lulls me to sleep, and I wake up to find the scenery has changed slightly. Snow-capped mountains loom to our left, and the GPS tells me we’re passing under Hvannadalshnjúkrur, Iceland’s tallest peak wrapped in some amazing glaciers.
“When the Games are over…” I say quietly.
Levi grins back at me. “I know,” he says, awe in his voice. “Maybe we’ll even see some trolls while we’re here.”
Raphaël snorts. “Trolls?”
“Lookat this place,” Levi says, emphatic. “If I was a troll, I’d live here.”
I pat his shoulder. “I don’t think trolls are real.”
“Would be cool, though, right?” he replies.
It takes us another two hours to get to Djúpivogur, a little coastal town situated at the mouth of a large fjord that’s the closest settlement to our next destination. An incoming storm almost obscures the view, but the cute white- and red-painted houses are scattered on bright-green grass, and we find a bed and breakfast advertising vacant rooms with a quaint sign hanging on their front deck.
A kind blonde woman my father’s age greets me with a smile. “Welcome. Do you need a room?”
I’ve left Levi and Raphaël outside to deal with luggage and check the perimeter. We can’t be careful enough after the incidents in Cairo, so Levi is scanning the guesthouse for any hidden spells some other witch might have left here while Raphaël stalks farther out to make sure our escape routes are clear.
“Yes, a single room, please,” I say, “for three adults.”
She blinks. “Our rooms only have large double beds—or twin beds. I recommend you take two rooms at least…”
I shake my head, though heat rises in my cheeks. “No, one room with a king-sized bed will do, thank you.”
She raises her eyebrows, purses her lips for a moment, then says, “I will still have to charge you for three people, you know.”
“Yes, of course,” I agree, eager to get this over with, escape into our room, and have a long, hot shower. I might have to go clothes shopping, too. Even in summertime, Iceland is cold and damp, and I don’t imagine going out on the water will improve anything.
The front door opens behind me, and the bell above the door chimes merrily. A gust of wind whips around my legs, chilling me through. The receptionist looks up, and her eyes widen. I glance over my shoulder to see that Levi and Raphaël have entered the guesthouse, carrying our bags and looking like models straight out of a rainy photoshoot. Raphaël swipes his hand through his damp black curls, and they fall to the side in a perfect swoop, while Levi’s wet t-shirt sticks to his chest, revealing the outline of his nipple piercing.
I turn back to the woman and give her a sheepish grin. “My friends.”
Her face goes pink, and she heaves out a long sigh. “Oh, to be young again.” Then she gives me a wink and hands over the key. “Your room is ready.”
Just as I pick up our documents and get ready to leave, Levi steps up to the counter. “Is there a boat rental service in town?”
The woman stares up at him for a moment, then visibly shakes herself and says, “Yes, but you shouldn’t go out in this weather. It’s not…”
Raphaël sidles up to Levi and gives the receptionist a smoldering smile. “We’re location scouts for an independent film,” he says, letting a hint of a French accent bleed into his words. “A large part of the film will be shot out on the sea, so we need to make sure the scenery is sufficiently…stunning.”
The poor lady just gapes at him, her mouth open slightly. I elbow my way between them and wait for her to focus back on me.
“I’m sorry,” I say, apologizing both for the guys’ effect and the lies we’re spouting by necessity. “But we really do need a boat.”
She snaps out of it and scribbles down the name of her cousin at the marina who rents out boats to tourists. I loop my arm through Levi’s and forcefully drag him away from the reception desk before he can do more damage. Raphaël follows at our heels, and we troop down the hall to our room.
“Let’s just dump our bags and go to the marina.” I hate that we lost almost a full day to travel, what with the connecting flights from Cairo and the drive across Iceland. “We need that boat.”
Raphaël looks as if he might protest, but Levi quickly agrees with me. The room is spacious and decorated in white and neutral colors, minimalist and clean. I love it immediately, and I wish I could hole up in here with a book. We grab more waterproof layers and stomp outside again, straight into the rain that has intensified in the last fifteen minutes.
At the small marina, we find the fishermen and their crewmembers in a flurry of activity. Their shouted words sound urgent, but I have no idea what they’re saying. Icelandic is a beautiful language with lots of sibilant sounds and rolling Rs, but given how funky their place names are, I know I’m beyond understanding any of it.
Luckily, the guesthouse receptionist’s cousin, the owner of the rental boat, speaks English, which is amazing. What he has to say isn’t as pleasant, though.
“No.” He emphasizes this with a vigorous shake of his head. “You can’t sail in this weather.”
I stare out at the choppy sea and the dark-gray clouds that appear to be hanging just above the surface.
