Stockholm Diaries, Melanie Page 5

  “It looks adjustable to me,” he said, chuckling.

  “THE SALESWOMAN WASN’T unfriendly. She just wasn’t very talkative,” said Henrik as he took the cooler out of Mel’s hand and stowed it under the boat deck.

  “Untalkative is an odd quality for someone in sales, don’t you think?”

  Mel picked up the last two bags from the dock and handed them to him.

  “Not here,” he said. “Swedes don’t love talking to strangers, so sometimes it’s better not to bother people with small talk.”

  “In a store? Doesn’t sound like a good way to make money,” she said with mock chagrin.

  “We’re socialists, not capitalist, remember?” he said dryly.

  Mel laughed.

  Henrik stowed the last of the groceries while she untied one of the lines from the dock. He returned to the side of the boat with a life jacket.

  “Are you sure you won’t wear one of these?” he said, holding it out to her on the dock.

  “You don’t have one on,” she said.

  “Fine, Melanie. I’ll wear one, too.”

  Mel rolled her eyes and moved to step down into the boat. Henrik held out his hand to help her, which she swiftly dodged—damn it, would he let her do anything on her own?—and stomped her foot onto the edge of the boat. Too hard. The boat rocked from side to side leaving her teetering with one foot still on the dock and one on the boat.

  She was going to fall in. Mel knew this even as she desperately turned back to grab the dock, which was drifting even further away. She looked down into the dark green water below and remembered to draw in her breath as she plunged into the Baltic Sea.

  The cold froze her body, and for a moment Mel was unable to move. Her body simply sunk as her mind tried to register the shock of the cold. It was as if someone had squeezed the air out of her lungs, and she had to fight to keep herself from gasping underwater.

  Her body came back to life, and she moved her legs and arms in desperate motions for the surface. But for every stroke, the weight of her clothes and shoes dragged her back down. She was sinking deeper, and in her fright, she opened her mouth this time. Her lungs seized up, begging for air, but the surface was still far out of reach.

  She registered a muted splash next to her, and arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her up. Henrik. They reached the surface and gasped. Air. Mel sputtered and gulped as Henrik’s warm body held her up.

  “Melanie? Melanie? Are you okay?” His voice was low and panicked in her ear. She coughed and gasped, but the air wouldn’t come in fast enough. Her senses were filled with the icy, salty water that had found its way into every possible place. Her body seemed to have stopped working, and Henrik was swimming for the both of them.

  “Hold on, Melanie. We’ll be in the boat soon.”

  Henrik’s voice came from far away, and there wasn’t a trace of the challenge she had heard earlier. He slipped a life jacket underneath her, but he didn’t let go. He held her firmly against him with one arm and swam with the other towards the back of the boat until they reached the narrow, water-level platform.

  “Can I climb out so I can help you up?” he asked between short breaths. “I promise I won’t let go of you.”

  She nodded, but as soon as he started to release her, she sank down, startling her. She twisted to cling onto him, and the life jacket slipped out from under her, driving her to panic further.

  “Easy,” he whispered, his arms back around her. “Easy.”

  Mel struggled to control the terror that threatened to bubble up again. Her body was shaking with cold and shock, and he pulled her closer, soothing her into him. She felt his lips brush against her forehead.

  “I’ve got you, Melanie,” he whispered, again and again, until she eased her iron grip on him.

  “I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” she said through chattering teeth. “I’m not sure what happened.”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “But you’re really cold. I want to get you out of the water. I promise I’ll hold onto you. I won’t let go.”

  Mel nodded. Henrik moved the life jacket around her, keeping her firmly against him.

  “I’m going to let go of your body now, but I have your hand. I won’t let go,” he repeated.

  Her breath caught as he left the water without her, but she closed her eyes and fought the panic. He won’t let go. Somehow, Henrik hoisted himself up to sit on the platform, her hand still firmly in his grip.

  “You’re doing great,” he said softly. “I’m going to turn you around and lift you up now, okay?”

  She nodded again. He turned her away from the boat and slipped two large hands under her arms, lifting her up onto the platform, between his legs. Everything moved too fast. He wrapped his arms around her, and held her tightly.

  Her muscles went limp as her body rested on the solid boat platform below her. Mel wasn’t sure how long she sat there, pressed into Henrik’s chest, shaking. The only sounds were the gentle splashes of water against the boat and the sounds of their breath, in and out. The heat of his body slowly made its way into hers, and she felt his lips against her wet hair.

  “God, I’m so sorry,” she finally said. “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t pushed you away.”

  She turned to look at the dock again, and his breath was now in her ear. He was so close, his mouth only inches away from hers. He pulled her closer and shook his head, then rested his forehead in the wet tangles of her hair. Mel shivered as the panic faded, leaving room for a dark mess of feelings she didn’t want to think about.

  The murky water in front of her threatened to swallow her again. She was supposed to be making her own way here, but somehow she had managed to make the situation worse. Her assertion of independence had been downright dangerous this time. She had just needed, thoroughly needed, to be rescued. By a man. Exactly the situation she didn’t want to be in.

  “You don’t do anything half way, do you?” he whispered.

  His voice was soft in her ear. In spite of herself, Mel smiled a little.

  “I do my best.”

  “Let me help you into the boat,” he finally said. “Your legs will probably be a little shaky.”

  That was an understatement. Her legs were so wobbly that she had to climb over the seats on her hands and knees. For once, she didn’t even consider refusing Henrik’s help.

  It was at this point that she realized Henrik was naked. Or almost naked. The only remains of his clothing were his boxer briefs, wet and clinging to him. Water dripped from his hair in glistening tracks down his broad, muscular chest, which flexed and thickened as he steadied her.

  Oh, my, she thought, her breath quickening. She tried to pull her gaze away, but her body still wasn’t responding well to commands. What was she doing? Her mind was jumping at the opportunity to distract her from the seriousness of the last few minutes. The trail of dark hair that led into Henrik’s boxer briefs was the last thing she should be thinking about right now, but all the adrenalin of the moments before had somehow turned into a whole different feeling.

  Henrik was watching her carefully, his eyes a little wider. Clearly, she wasn’t hiding this rush of feelings. Before she could react, he grabbed a towel and pulled it around her, letting the hard planes of his body rest against hers again. She swallowed and tried to concentrate on standing up.

  “I’m so sorry, Henrik,” she said again into his chest. “That was terrible.”

  She waited for his agreement, his dry retort, but it didn’t come. He simply said, “That really scared me, Melanie, but you’re okay now. And you would have done the same for me. If I needed your help.”

  That was the last thing Mel had expected out of his mouth. For once, he had said exactly what she needed to hear. Did he know that? He let go slowly. His face gave nothing away as he reached down for the pile of clothes he had abandoned before he jumped in after her.

  “You’ll need something dry for the
ride back. It’ll be windy,” he said. He found his t-shirt and handed it to her. “I’ll take the shorts. Just rest there for a minute. And no swimming while I’m changing.” He said the last bit with a smile, but his voice was gentle. She felt the corners of her mouth turn up a little.

  Mel watched as he disappeared down into the tiny cabin under the deck. Then, before she was completely aware of what she was doing, she lifted his shirt to her face and breathed in. The smell of him filled her, blocking out the cold and sending a rush of comfort through her. Mel closed her eyes. She could still feel where his hands had held onto her, not letting her go even after they were safely out of the water.

  There was a rustle at the cabin door. Quickly, she yanked the t-shirt back down into her lap as Henrik emerged from the little cabin.

  He had changed into his shorts, and she knew he had on nothing underneath. He was shirtless, and one hand raked through the locks that had fallen into his eyes. Mel tried not to look at Henrik’s tanned, muscular torso, the way his shorts hung low on his hips—at the floor, out at the sea, anywhere except him. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be paying attention to her. Instead, he was rummaging through the storage spaces behind the seats. Finally, he pulled out a hand towel and held it out to her.

  “This is the best I can do as far as dry towels,” he said. “You can change in the cabin.”

  Mel shook her head.

  “It’s okay,” she said, handing back his t-shirt. “You should wear it. The rest of my clothes are wet, and the shirt will be too as soon as I put it on.”

  Henrik opened his mouth but closed it again, a crease forming between his eyebrows. He seemed to be considering his response. Mel tried to hide a shiver as he watched her. Then his face opened into a smile. He disappeared into the cabin again and returned a moment later with the small, green bag in his hand.

  “I guess it’s time to try out your new suit,” he said, not hiding his amusement. “It’s dry, you know.”

  Mel took a deep breath and counted to ten.

  Don’t say anything stupid.

  Her wet clothes were getting colder by the minute. Before she could over-think the decision any more, she took the bag and ducked into the little cabin.

  “Well, that was easier than I thought it would be,” he called after her.

  THE RIDE HOME was quiet except for the hum of the motor. When Mel emerged from the cabin, Henrik handed her a life jacket.

  “I’m taking advantage of your good will towards me,” he said smiling. “Besides, it’ll keep you warm.”

  She smiled and wordlessly put it on, struggling to block out the turn of events since they returned to the boat.

  Henrik was right; the life jacket provided some warmth, but it did nothing to hide her bare legs. She was happy to see that he wore one, too, if only because it meant she didn’t have to avoid glancing over at his half-naked body.

  Before she could stop herself, the feeling of Henrik’s body came back to her: how it had pressed against hers as they sat on the boat platform, his hands still around her waist, his warm breath on her neck as he rested his head against hers. She wanted to go back there, just for a moment, to take in that sensation before she moved on to face the next twist her summer brought.

  Mel looked over at him, staring out at the waves in front of them.

  “Do you spend all your summers out here?”

  The wind and the motor noise stole some of her voice, but he heard her anyway.

  “It depends. When I was married, we rarely came here. Not my ex-wife’s kind of place. But these last summers I’ve stayed until the waterlines started to freeze up, long after all the others shut their places down.”

  “You don’t get lonely out here, by yourself on the island?”

  He turned and raised his eyebrows at her.

  “Of course I do. But there are worse things than being lonely.”

  She nodded. This was true, but Mel couldn’t help wondering what his own worse things were. Was dependence also the fate he considered worse than loneliness?

  However, after spending only one day in the Stockholm archipelago, it was becoming increasingly clear that despite the months of preparation, she was going to need some help adjusting to island life. Food, communication, lifeguarding—these were just three areas she had needed Henrik’s help in so far. Now, as she let her thoughts wander, questions flooded into her mind. What if she were stuck without the ferry service? How would she get off the island? And what if something happened, some sort of emergency?

  They were carrying the last of the grocery bags up the hill to her cabin when Mel thought of this last possibility. She bent down to adjust her socks where her wet shoes rubbed against tender skin, but the stop was sudden enough that Henrik almost tripped over her. She turned around. The life jacket was gone, giving her a view of the long, flat muscles of his chest and arms that flexed under the weight of the bags he carried. She forced her eyes up to meet his.

  Come on, she thought, concentrate.

  “What if there’s some sort of emergency on the island?” she asked.

  Henrik looked down at her and frowned. He was so close, but he didn’t move away. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean what should I do?” she said quietly. “Is there some sort of water ambulance that I could call if I broke my leg?”

  Henrik shook his head. “Can we keep walking while we talk? We’re almost there.”

  “Sure, fine,” she said, “but I really need to know this stuff.”

  She turned back around and continued up the hill. “How would I get to the hospital if I needed to?” she pressed.

  “I’d drive you to the mainland, and the ambulance would pick you up from the dock.”

  “And if you weren’t here?”

  “Then try not to break your leg.”

  She could hear that he was smiling when he said this. They continued up the hill in silence. The only sounds were their feet on the forest path and the grocery bags swishing against each other. They turned off onto the narrow path that led to her little red cabin and made their way around to the back deck. Mel set her bags down and stretched her fingers.

  “Look,” she said, “I really appreciate everything today, especially the saving-my-life part. I’m not sure I would have made it back to the surface without you.”

  He nodded and ran his hand through the salty locks of his hair, looking down at the ground next to her. She tried not to think about how close he was standing or how his bare chest slowly rose and fell in deep, long breaths.

  “You’re Björn’s daughter,” he said quietly. “I’d do anything for him.”

  This should have pleased her. She didn’t want to be in anyone’s debt. So why did she feel a little disappointed at these words?

  “Thank you,” she said, “but I’d also like to know how to survive on this island when I’m on my own.”

  Something about what she said seemed to strike a nerve with him, but after a pause, he let out a low chuckle.

  “Yes, I can help you with that, too. But can we wait until tomorrow?” He raised his head again and met her eyes before he added, “I think I’ve had all the excitement I can handle today.”

  There was that sparkle of amusement in his look, both disarming and intimate. She nodded slowly, and he started to walk away.

  “Wait,” she called after him. “Your shirt.”

  He turned around as she began to lift off his shirt—revealing the tiny red bikini, she realized. He hadn’t missed this. His gaze was no longer on her face; it wandered down over the curves of her breasts and hips before he met her eyes again. And there was no mistaking the direction of his thoughts. Whoa.

  But she didn’t stop. She slipped it off, the flush rising up her neck.

  He took the shirt, his hand brushing against hers. She looked up, and his mouth parted, as if he might close the last distance between them and kiss her. She didn’t wait for him to decide.

 
She meant to brush her lips against his, just for a moment, just to see if they were as soft as they looked. But as soon as their lips touched, he let out a quiet groan that told her this kiss wouldn’t stop there. His hand slipped into her hair as he coaxed her mouth open with his, hungry and aching.

  She reached for him, wanting more than just his mouth. She wanted to feel his body against hers again, as it had been on the boat. But when her hands slid up his sides, his breath hitched, and he broke off the kiss.

  He stepped back, shaking his head a little.

  “This isn’t a good idea,” he said, his voice husky.

  “I know.”

  He didn’t have to explain. She knew what he meant. Whatever she had felt as their bodies came together wasn’t possible. They had just met, and now they were supposed to work together. What the hell was she thinking? She had certainly never been that forward before.

  They stood silently, watching each other for another moment before he turned again and left.

  Chapter 5

  Mel woke up ready to read her father’s journals. Of course, she couldn’t. Not without Henrik.

  She closed her eyes, trying to stop the rush of sensations that the image of him conjured: his large hands lifting her out of the water, his wet body wrapped around hers, his salty-sweet lips on hers.

  Whoa. Time to think about something else.

  She wandered from room to room in the cabin, stopping in each to write long descriptions of her first impressions. There wasn’t much to record. It was almost as if her father hadn’t fully lived here, though she knew from the executor of the will that he stayed on the island most of the year, unless the weather made it untenable. Yet there were few traces of anything that would give her insight into him, his life, his thoughts.

  When she entered her father’s bedroom again, she felt the same aversion, this time even stronger. Despite the sparse furniture, the space still felt too personal to explore. She walked in anyway, telling herself that her biographer side had to overcome her “abandoned daughter” hang-up when it came to potential research material.