Page 13 of His Innocent Unwrapped In Iceland

But all that really mattered was Luke, and his son was also smiling. His son was laughing. His son was happy. His son had everything Orion had never had himself and yet had always wanted to give him.

Orion had stood for a moment in the hallway, watching as the boy he hadn’t seen since he was a baby, and only in photos since, turned ten years old. Surrounded by his family and his friends. And Orion had known there and then that he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t rip his child away from the only home the boy had ever known, to go and live with the father he’d never met. The father he didn’t even know he had, since Cleo had made it very clear that it would be better for Luke if he didn’t know of Orion’s existence.

Orion couldn’t take Luke away from his family and his friends. His mother and his grandparents. The people who’d brought him up, just because he was Orion’s son and Orion wanted him.

It wasn’t right and he couldn’t do it.

So he’d turned around and walked out of that house, and he’d never gone back.

His heart had been ripped out of his chest the day Cleo’s father had told him he wasn’t to have any contact with Cleo or Luke ever again, and yet some piece of it had still remained inside him.

But in that hallway in Chelsea, he’d cut out that last remaining piece. Luke was happy, that was all that mattered, and as for himself, well, it was easier to pretend he’d never had a son at all.

Luke was the one thing he’d let go of, because he’d had to. But afterwards, he’d decided that there would be no family for him. No more children. No wife. No happy home full of love and laughter. He’d grown up without any of that and he was fine, and besides, love was a power game, and one he’d lost, so now he simply refused to play.

Not that he was in any danger of falling in love with Isla. Marrying her had been part of Kendrick’s deal and he’d agreed since it was either that or Kendrick found some other groom for her, and he hadn’t been about to let that happen. Once he set his sights on a target he generally acquired it. He didn’t like to lose. He’d keep her for the year specified, but then he’d divorce her, no harm done.

Slowly, he pushed shut his laptop and leaned back in his seat.

That kiss she’d given him... She’d taken him by surprise, he had to admit. He hadn’t been expecting her to grab his tie, lean down and deliver a kiss just as hot as the one he’d given her. It took a lot to surprise him these days, but she’d managed it and he respected the hell out of her for it.

But she didn’t know that in kissing him, she’d issued him with a challenge. A challenge that fired his blood. He was a wolf at heart and he loved the thrill of the chase, the hunt. He loved the fight, too, when he ran his prey down. But people didn’t fight him the way they used to, his reputation had ensured that. They mostly just lay down and offered him their throat, which wasn’t satisfying in any way.

Isla wouldn’t just lie down and offer him her throat, he suspected. She would fight him and he relished the thought of that particular chase very much.

He hadn’t planned on anything physical happening between them. All he’d wanted was to get close to her, talk to her, find out why a bit of paint on a board should have illuminated her so completely, and what exactly was the nature of that light inside her. But he wouldn’t mind exploring their physical attraction if she was willing. And then once he’d explored that, perhaps this fascination would go away. Because he was tired of her being in his thoughts so continually.

Of course, that all depended on her wanting to stay at his lodge. He could make it difficult for her to leave physically—the lodge was remote and the weather could make transport to and from it tricky—but it would be much more satisfying if she chose to stay.

He could make her choose that. His new wife might look like a snow maiden, but her kiss was full of heat, and that had set him thinking about her fiancé and whether he’d been able to satisfy her and the answer was potentially not, since she’d been able to kiss another man not once, but twice. Three times if you counted the kiss at the altar.

Perhaps he’d find that out too. It had been a long time since a woman had obsessed him in such a way and now with physical chemistry added to the equation, he wasn’t about to let her go anytime soon. Not until he’d exhausted his interest.

Orion spent the rest of the short remaining flight time tying up some loose ends and then making a few plans. He sent off the agreement to the Kendricks’ lawyers as promised, and then made a few calls to his PR department. His shock wedding would attract some media attention, but if they stayed in Iceland long enough, the fuss would die down. Not that he particularly cared about it, but Isla might.

Soon enough, the jet began to descend into Reykjavik. Once they’d landed and the formalities were dealt with, they then boarded the helicopter that would take them to the lodge.

It was far to the south and east of the country, the lodge built at the edge of a small lake and surrounded by mountains and woodland that he was in the process of regenerating.

He had a few lodges scattered around the globe, but the one in Iceland was his favourite simply because it was so remote and wild. The ruggedness of the landscape and the changing shape of it due to the constant, churning volcanic activity appealed to him. He appreciated nature’s power and how small humanity seemed against it, and ultimately how powerless.

It was a bracing perspective and he liked that.

The flight there was a spectacular one, but since it had darkened into night since they left the UK, there was no view to take in. Isla didn’t say a word and kept her gaze on the blackness outside the helicopter window the whole time.

It didn’t matter. They’d have plenty of time to talk when they arrived.

Luckily the weather was still and Orion had had the helipad cleared of snow so there were no issues with landing. It was freezing outside, though.

He opened the door and helped her out, the icy air immediately catching them. She gave a little gasp and shuddered, clutching her shawl around her.

It was snowing now, and in the lights coming from the lodge and from the lit stone path that led to the front door he could see snowflakes catching her hair and on her gown, glittering and sparkling.

She looked even more like a snow maiden than ever.

She also looked as if she was freezing to death.

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