Free Naughty in Norway by Christine Edwards Page B

brought back to reality when I hear Alreck behind me.
    “Ah, you’ve never seen them before?”
    I shake my head while still staring out at the wonder through the glass.
    “Here they are called Nordlys. And you certainly won’t see them in Oslo, except on rare occasions because of their distance from the Arctic Circle.”
    Turning around, I watch him kneel and put logs of wood into a large stone fireplace. The light in the cabin comes solely from the mesmerizing display over the water.
    “I’ve only read about them but nothing prepared me for what’s outside your window. I’m surprised you didn’t create the entire house of glass, just to be able to soak that beauty in.”
    “That would make it difficult to heat,” he says, without cracking a smile.
    The fire roars to life and I can make out the shadow of his large back still bent near it. He returns to his feet with fluid ease and crosses the room to stand motionless in front of me.
    My lips part. I’m breathless. His eyes lazily roam my face as if he’s committing it to memory. “Yes, it’s very beautiful.”
    This is too much; his intensity is overwhelming me.
    He breaks the spell by glancing over his shoulder to check the fire.
    “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
    In the subdued firelight, I take in the unfamiliar surroundings and note that everything is neutral. If Ikea offered a ‘stoic mountain man’ dwelling space, this would be it. The large modern sectional is a deep, solid gray and the walls are stark white, painted wood. The high ceiling vaults above us and the exposed beams are massive and well-worn. The wooden floors appear historic, like the structure itself, and I ponder why everything is plain and almost impersonal.
    “The bedroom is here.”
    He leads me to a door on the left side of the fireplace. He turns on the light and I can tell that the room is cozy, with a large window and a low platform, queen-sized bed covered by a white goose down comforter. Beside the bed rests a modern, light wood nightstand. Aside from the simple wooden chair where he places my duffle bag and purse, there’s nothing else in here.
    “This is where you will sleep, the dyne will keep you very warm.” He points briefly to the comforter as I try to recall where I’ve heard the term before.
    I turn to him. “There’s another bedroom, right?”
    “No, the sofa will work for me. I don’t sleep much.”
    I start to reply but he cuts me off and gestures for me to follow him. He’s obviously letting me know that he’s not in the mood to get into another disagreement after such an arduous trip.
    “The bathroom is through here.” We walk back through the large living room toward a door near the kitchen.
    “There’s plumbing and a water heater in case you’re concerned,” he says with a smug grin.
    Damn, am I that predictable?
    He flips a switch as we enter the bathroom. It is simple yet modern, with tan limestone tiles on the floor and counter, an oversized white freestanding bowl sink and a fantastic deep claw foot tub.
    “There’s no shower so you will have to make do.”
    “This is fine. Everything is so modern and lovely.”
    “Two summers ago, I renovated it. The room was pretty old fashioned before.”
    Leading me out into the kitchen, he flips another switch, and the small but cozy kitchen is suddenly illuminated.
    Surprise, surprise, the biker has taste.
    The area is dominated by a stainless gas range and a deep sink, set in a decent-sized granite island. On the opposite side of the island, near the living room, sits a simple, honey-colored round table and two chairs.
    “There’s electricity here but no heating or air conditioning. It is important to keep the fire going or the temperature of the rorbu will drop rapidly.”
    “Oh.”
    I’m feeling a bit out of sorts in the unfamiliar surroundings and am not certain what to do next. Should I go to my room? Can I take a bath now?
    As if sensing my discomfort, Alreck says, “I’m going to