Page 30 of Three Swedish Mountain Men

As if he can hear my thoughts, Riven suddenly reaches across and takes my hand. My breath dissolves in my lungs. I watch with wide eyes as he brings my fingers to his face, examining them with a frown.

“You should put your gloves back on. You’re losing circulation.” He touches the pad of his thumb to my little fingernail. “They’re going blue.”

I sigh, frustrated. “How come you can handle the cold so well, and I’m so bloody fragile?”

“You’re not fragile. Just small. You need some more weight on you.”

“I lost a lot of weight recently,” I admit.

“By accident?”

I nod.

“Were you ill?” He brings my fingers to his mouth, blowing on them. The jolt of heat in my belly surprises me. I press my thighs together under the table.

“No. It’s just been a rough few months. That’s why I came up here. To get away.”

“Bad breakup?” He cups his hands around mine, warming them up. I shift in my chair. It feels ridiculously intimate.

“You could say that.”

“What happened?”

“Did you notice how I stopped asking you personal questions when you started looking uncomfortable?”

His eyes twinkle in the candlelight. “I think I deserve some information about the strange woman I’ve brought into my home.”

“I’m a five foot girl who apparently can’t eat a bowl of soup without my fingers dropping off. I think you three big strong mountain men have the advantage in this situation.”

He smiles properly, then, and I sit back, a bit stunned. His smile is beautiful. Big and white and shining. My heart literally thumps in my chest. I can’t help smiling back.

His phone rings again, the shrill beep ruining the moment. Riven sighs, sitting back and pulling it out of his pocket. He glares at the screen.

“Maybe you should answer it,” I tell him. “If your parents are trying this hard to contact you, it might be important. Maybe something’s happened.”

He nods, standing slowly and heading outside. I finish off the rest of my bowl, sopping up the broth with the last slice of bread. I’ve only just licked the last bit of butter off my fingers when Charlotte reappears.

“How did you like the food?” She beams, stacking up our bowls.

“It was delicious, thank you!” I fumble for my wallet. “Um, do you take card? I don’t have any Swedish cash on me.”

She chuckles. “Yes, we take card. We are not in the dark ages. But you do not have to pay. Dr Nilsson always eats free.” She tuts at Riven’s empty chair. “Where did the man go?”

“He just went to take a phone call.”

She sighs. “You must be patient with him. He does not have much practice with the women.”

“I can tell.”

She throws back her head and laughs heartily, then squeezes my cheek. “You are very pretty.”

“Oh.” I flush. “Thank you.”

“It is good for him,” she says. “To find a girl. He works so hard. He looks after so many of us in the village.” She conjures a cloth out of nowhere and starts wiping down the table. “When my boy was sick last year, it was storming. We couldn’t take him to the hospital. Dr Nilsson slept on our sofa to look after him all through the night. He is a very good man.”

My heart warms. “I think so, too.”

She reaches across and squeezes my hand. “Please tell him he must come back again soon. And I expect him to bring you with him.”

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