Page 27 of His Innocent Unwrapped In Iceland

As they sat in the helicopter, flying around one of Iceland’s most recent eruptions and he watched her stare out the window, there was no mistaking the glow of wonder that lit her face. The same glow he’d observed in the gallery.

Steam rose in clouds, thick moving lava glowing from underneath the black rock, and she watched it all with rapt, open-mouthed attention.

It made desire twist hard in his gut, along with a satisfaction at his own efforts to recreate that moment of luminous delight he’d seen that night at the gallery.

He still didn’t understand why it affected him so intensely, though. It might have been a simple response to her beauty, because she was lovely when she looked like this. Then again, he’d seen plenty of lovely women before and he’d not felt this same, almost...visceral punch whenever he looked at her.

It was puzzling.

She’d intrigued him still further, though. He knew her background, that she’d been a foster kid like he had, except she’d been adopted, while no one had ever wanted him. He’d been too volatile as a kid, too hungry, too intense, and people seemed to sense that in him and shy away from it. He didn’t blame them.

He was different now, of course, and he could see why David had chosen Isla to be his successor. She had a hunger too, though she probably wouldn’t have said so, and the way she’d pursued the things that interested her struck a chord with him also. She wanted to understand things the way he did, researching all about those artists of hers and their lives. Trying to understand the art they made.

He’d thought that discovering one of her secrets might have dissipated some part of his fascination, but it didn’t. If anything, it only made him even more intrigued.

The helicopter landed on a flat bit of rock and the geologist took Orion and Isla across the sharp ground to get a close-up view of a lava flow. Her face was rapt under her helmet—they both had on protective gear—as the geologist guided them across the sharp volcanic rocks, Isla peppering him with questions.

Once, she stumbled on the uneven ground and Orion instinctively slid an arm around her waist to steady her. She was so caught up in the tour she didn’t seem to notice, leaning into him briefly before giving his arm a little pat, as if he was a dog, before pulling away to continue walking. And he found himself amused and aggravated in equal measure that she was so involved in the tour that she hadn’t seemed to notice his touch.

You’re a fool to let it matter to you this much.You’ve slept with her. What more do you need to know?

He couldn’t have said. Only that sex was merely a part of his interest and that interest hadn’t been satisfied yet. One thing he was sure of though, was that he couldn’t move on from this obsession until he found the key, and so yes, it mattered.Shemattered.

During the tour, he’d provided her with a camera since he thought she might want to take some better pictures than she could from her phone, and she hadn’t protested. Not only had she asked the guide a million questions, but she’d spent just about every second taking photos of the rocks, the lava, the mountain and the snow, and once or twice, she’d even taken a couple of pictures of him.

He hadn’t minded. If she wanted pictures of him, who was he to argue?

They spent a couple of hours exploring the mountain, and then a glacier, and in the helicopter afterwards, as they flew back to the lodge, she turned to him, her face alight, her blue eyes glowing. ‘That was amazing! Honestly, I had no idea I’d enjoy getting that close to an active volcano. And all those colours... They were incredible!’

She wasn’t self-contained now. The cork was out of that champagne bottle and she was fizzing everywhere, and not bothering to hide it. And he was seized by the almost uncontrollable urge to kiss her. He wanted to get a taste of her excitement and her joy, just a small taste, because it had been so long since he’d experienced anything like it, he couldn’t remember what it felt like.

Have youeverexperienced anything like it?

Possibly not. His life had had precious few moments of joy and wonder. Even his childhood had been lonely and isolated, the one bright spot being when he’d met Cleo. Except that had all gone to hell in a handcart and afterwards he’d decided he didn’t need moments of joy. Satisfaction would do for him.

It would have satisfied him immensely to take a kiss from Isla, yet he held himself back. She’d been quite clear that she didn’t want to sleep with him again, despite being still very attracted to him, and he found that for the second time in his life he didn’t want to take something just because he could—and he could take that kiss. She wouldn’t protest, he was sure of it.

Yet...he didn’t want to. He wanted her to give a kiss to him of her own free will. Because she wanted to, because she wanted him, and not because he’d forced her into anything.

Especially after you forced her into marrying you.

Something uncomfortable shifted inside him. He’d told her that he hadn’t regretted his threat to get her to marry him, but maybe he did. Maybe that hadn’t been the correct course of action. Maybe that hadn’t been the right opportunity to take.

He didn’t like the feeling, just as he didn’t like his own reluctance to take what he wanted from her. His ruthlessness, his edge, was what set him apart from others in the business world and he didn’t want to lose it.

Except not enough to put his hand behind her head and draw her in for a kiss.

It was quite the conundrum.

‘I thought you might like it,’ he said instead, controlling himself firmly. ‘From an artistic point of view.’

‘Yes. I think I took about fifty million photos.’ She grinned, her cheeks flushed with delight. ‘Did you enjoy it too?’

It took him a moment to process the question, since he couldn’t remember anyone ever asking him if he’d enjoyed anything. And it made the tight thing inside him shift yet again. Not only had she thought about him, she’d been interested enough to want to know if he’d shared her enjoyment. As if mattered to her.

For a second, he couldn’t think.Hadhe enjoyed himself? Or had the entire day been more about his own satisfaction at putting that look on her face?

Yet deep in his frozen heart, like a small ray of midwinter sun rising on a cold dawn, came the realisation that, yes, hehadenjoyed himself. He’d enjoyed watching her glitter and sparkle like sunlight on snow, and he’d enjoyed her company. Her questions and her smile, and how she’d taken photos of him as if she’d wanted to include him in her record of this day. He’d also enjoyed sharing with her something that he found beautiful himself and having her think so too.

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