by Chant, Zoe
The French tourists next to her giggled excitedly at their guide’s warning, getting out their phones. Autumn joined them after a moment of hesitation—this was her once-in-a-lifetime trip, after all. She knew she’d regret it if she didn’t get at least a few pictures out of it to remember everything later.
Staring at her screen attentively, she tried to pose, smiling brightly at the camera. Any moment now...
As if on cue, the geyser erupted. Autumn’s finger mechanically hit the button, even though her eyes had gone wide with sudden shock, and she’d forgotten to smile.
There, right in front of her, the viking from the Blue Lagoon had suddenly appeared.
She couldn’t even say how she knew it was him. She hadn’t seen his face before. But for some reason, she was utterly certain it was him.
He had the same broad chest and strong shoulders, combined with arms that seemed made to wrestle sheep and narrow hips that looked stunningly good in his jeans. He was wearing one of the fluffy Icelandic sweaters made from local wool she’d admired when she’d gone window shopping in Reykjavik. Now that his hair wasn’t wet, it was brown, just long enough to slightly curl in the damp air surrounding the geyser.
His eyes were brown, too. They were the brown of the land that surrounded her: the color of the ancient hills where families had lived for hundreds of years, a hue that felt earthy and warm and mysterious.
A shiver ran through her as she stared at him, the erupting geyser behind her completely forgotten.
Next to her, she heard the French girls cry out in sudden surprise, but she couldn’t look away from him. She could feel herself sinking into his eyes. If she’d actually believed in the legends of Iceland’s elves, she would have thought that he was one of them. There was a light that seemed to illuminate his eyes. She could believe that he was the king of the elves, or maybe a mythical warrior who’d traveled through time.
And then his eyes widened, and he came racing towards her.
A second later, she felt herself pulled against his strong chest, his arms protectively closing around her.
Ohhh... That’s so nice, she thought dizzily. His scent overwhelmed her. He smelled like Iceland’s highlands: of rock and dark soil and the heat of volcanoes, mingled with a hint of masculine musk that made her knees go weak.
And then a downpour of water came down over her. Sputtering, she looked up, the spell broken at last.
It seemed that the geyser had erupted with unusual force. The French tourists had managed to retreat just in time—and if the stranger hadn’t pulled her back, the entire fountain of water that had gushed out of the earth would have come down right onto her, completely drenching her.
Even so, enough of the water had hit her that her hair was completely wet, drops dripping constantly into her eyes. Her parka had managed to withstand the water, but her pants were wet.
And worse...
“Oh no,” she moaned. She lifted her right hand, which was still clutching her phone—which was dripping wet as well.
The screen, which had shown her posing for the selfie a moment ago, had gone dark. No matter what she tried, it wouldn’t turn back on.
My one and only trip to Iceland... And now I won’t even have pictures to show of it.
It was stupid, but she felt tears well up in her eyes. It wasn’t even an expensive phone, because she couldn’t afford expensive, but it had all her pictures and the numbers of her friends, and Tilly’s emails telling her which bus to take...
“May I?” the stranger asked, gently taking the phone from her trembling hand.
Swallowing against her tears, she looked up at him.
He was frowning at her phone, tilting it this way and that. There was a concentrated look in his eyes. The light hit them just so, and for a moment, they gleamed strangely metallic. Another shiver ran through Autumn as she watched him, completely transfixed.
“You think these phones are all plastic, but that’s not true,” he murmured, almost as if he was talking to himself. “Inside, there are all sorts of tiny chips made from precious metals and rare earth elements...”
Gently, he swiped his thumb across her wet screen. Suddenly, water began to drip out of the bottom of her phone. A second later, it stopped—and then the screen came to life again.
“Wow,” Autumn breathed, eagerly taking hold of it when he held it out to her. “Are you an engineer?”
Hastily, she unlocked it, relief washing through her when her familiar home screen awaited her. Just to be sure, she opened her emails—and there was Tilly’s latest mail, reminding her once more of the route her bus would take, and when she or her husband would pick Autumn up at the stop.
Beaming at her savior, Autumn clutched her phone to her chest—and then found herself inexplicably blushing when she realized that she was still so close to the incredibly good-looking stranger that she could have easily leaned forward to kiss him.
Which she obviously wasn’t going to do. But just looking at him was enough to make her feel breathless.
“I’m not really an engineer,” he answered her earlier question, his serious eyes now soft and warm as he looked at her. “At least, not the sort who engineers phones. I’m in mining.”
“Mining,” Autumn echoed, still staring at him.
Then she swallowed. His broad shoulders made her think of strong men with pick-axes venturing into caves deep below the earth to search for a vein of gold.
That probably wasn’t how mining worked these days—she assumed it involved giant, mechanical drills, or something similar that required engineers.
Still, he looked like the sort of guy who’d been right at home in a mineshaft a hundred years ago—strong, confident and calm even in such a dangerous situation.
“I know, it sounds boring,” he said, gently taking hold of her arm now to steer her further away from the geyser. “But it’s the family business. And rocks can be interesting, too. Did you know that it’s the earth that causes a geyser to erupt? It’s not just the water. You get pockets of water under pressure pretty much everywhere, after all. But for a geyser, especially a reliable one like this, which erupts every few minutes, you need hard rock that forms something like a natural well. You only get this stunning effect if there’s no other escape for the water but a narrow vent leading up.”
“It doesn’t sound boring at all.” Autumn still couldn’t look away from his strong, broad arms. It was a little safer than looking directly into his eyes, but only by a narrow margin. His arms made her long for an embrace. And his eyes...
She felt herself flush with heat all over.
You can’t think of that. Not here! He’s a stranger—and probably not interested at all.
She took a deep breath. Water was still dripping into her eyes, and she wiped it away with another flush. Even wet, he looked incredibly handsome, like an Icelandic god—while she probably looked like a bedraggled wet cat right now.
“You’ll catch a cold,” he said with sudden worry. “Your clothes are all wet.”
“It’s really just my pants,” she said and winced. Even though the sun was shining, the wind was very cold. Her pants clung to her legs, soaking wet—and she hadn’t thought of bringing a spare pair of pants onto the bus. After all, it was supposed to be a calm, safe day trip, ferrying her and the other tourists from one attraction to the next.
“I have a spare pair of pants with me, dearie,” someone with a broad, unmistakable southern accent now said behind her.
When Autumn turned around, she found herself face to face with an old woman who was giving her a concerned look, her gray hair braided. Autumn didn’t know her name—but she’d watched her earlier, when they had boarded the bus. She’d been surrounded by what had to be at least half her family, with no less than six grandchildren excitedly milling about.
“As I said to my George, you have to be prepared for the weather out here. It’s Iceland! What if it snows? Or rains? Or if we end up snowed in on a glacier?” The woman gestured toward
s the bus, which was waiting in the distance.
“That’s very kind of you to offer, but I can’t—” Autumn began, only to have the woman resolutely interrupt her.
“I insist!” she said, shaking her head as she looked Autumn up and down. “You’ll catch your death in this weather.”
It was terribly cold. Autumn could feel her wet hair sticking to her face. Still—she’d traveled so far to admire the geyser...
“Would you mind taking a picture of me first?” she asked the woman, who laughed and called over what had to be one of her granddaughters.
“My Sarah is so much better with these phones,” the woman explained.
Sarah looked like she was about thirteen, with long, blond hair in a ponytail and a parka with glittery zebra print.
“You should be on there to,” the girl said to the stranger, gesturing until he obediently moved closer to Autumn. “Closer! Come on, guys.”
Autumn felt heat rise to her cheeks again. She couldn’t think of anything to say—and to be honest, if she posted a picture of both her savior and the geyser to Facebook, she knew who would be the biggest attraction.
Maybe her asshole of an ex-fiancé would see it, too...
But this was not the time to think of him. Today was for enjoying herself.
And I’m definitely enjoying myself now, she thought as the man moved even closer when the girl gestured again, wrapping his arm around her.
“Okay, any moment now,” the girl said.
Suddenly, the water behind them exploded high up into the sky once more as the geyser erupted again. The girl snapped a picture—and this time, they were far enough that they didn’t get hit by more than a few stray droplets.
Autumn felt so overwhelmed that she could barely focus on the picture when the girl returned her phone to her. His arm had been strong and warm as it wrapped around her, his chest hard with muscle even through the thick layer of her parka.
She blinked, finally taking in the perfect snapshot the girl had taken. There was the geyser, erupting in the distance behind them in a huge fountain of steaming water. And there was Autumn, beaming, with this incredible hunk of an Icelandic hero holding her close.
The picture was perfect, and she felt a sudden sting of longing in her heart.
It was too perfect—and it wasn't real. She didn’t even know his name. This would be no more than an exciting tale she’d tell her friends about as soon as she got back. She’d probably never see him again after this tour.
“I’m Damon, by the way.” He smiled at her again with those warm, brown eyes that made her want to burrow into his arms. “Damon Drago.”
“I’m Autumn,” she said, and then quickly added, “I’m so sorry! I haven’t even said thank you yet! You saved me from that geyser—I’d be completely soaked now without you.”
“I was a second too late,” he said. “I’m sorry. If I’d reacted faster, I might have pulled you away in time.”
“Oh—the pants!” Autumn gave the woman waiting for her a chagrined look. “I’m so sorry for making you wait.”
“I’ve got hot chocolate in the bus as well,” she said, winking. “If you and your date would like to warm up for a few minutes before the tour goes on.”
“Oh, he’s not my—” Autumn began, completely flustered as she gave Damon an embarrassed look.
Now was probably the time that he’d gently excuse himself to leave, because a guy like him would never even think about dating a woman like her.
“That’s right,” he said gallantly. “As dates go, this is a rather poor one. You must let me invite you for dinner this evening to make up for it.”
“Oh,” Autumn said faintly, her heart pounding so fast that for a moment, she was convinced that she was going to faint.
Had she really heard right? Had he said dinner?
“There’s a restaurant by the ocean I’d love to take you to,” he continued. “I love this country, but it hasn’t really shown you its best side today. You must allow me to make up for that.”
“Do you live here?” she asked curiously. He didn’t speak with an accent—but somehow, he seemed to fit this land of primal rock and volcanoes.
Then she realized that she hadn’t answered his question. If it really had been an invitation. If it hadn’t been a joke, meant to mock her...
But she couldn’t go on spending her life distrusting everyone. She wouldn’t allow her asshole of an ex to do that to her.
“And I would like that very much,” she added, swallowing. “Dinner, I mean.”
“Wonderful.” Gallantly, he took hold of her arm again as he led her towards the waiting bus. “And I’ve traveled here occasionally—it’s a good country if you’re interested in rock. Or mining.” He laughed softly. “But right now I’m really just another American tourist.”
“Just like me.” She felt a smile warm her face. “I've been planning this trip for ages. I have three days in Reykjavik before traveling on to the north. A friend of mine has a farm there, and I’m going to stay with her and her husband for a week.”
She couldn’t even say why her plans suddenly filled her with disappointment.
Nothing is going to come of this, she told herself firmly.
She wasn’t going to miss out on a week of dating the most gorgeous man on earth, because that sort of thing didn’t happen to people like her.
One dinner. Because he’s an American tourist like me, and he’s probably feeling lonely and doesn’t like spending his evenings alone.
And then she’d go on another bus tour tomorrow, and he’d go on doing whatever he’d come here for, and they’d never see each other again.
Still... that didn’t mean that she couldn’t enjoy the one evening she’d get.
Once she’d changed into a pair of ugly but warm, waterproof trousers, which Sarah’s grandmother had apparently packed just in case their bus broke down and she’d have to hike to safety across glaciers, Autumn finally had time to sit down and sip some of the hot chocolate they’d been offered.
To her amazement, Damon still hadn’t walked off. Instead, he was sitting peacefully next to her, waiting for his turn to sip hot chocolate out of the tiny cup they had to share. In the bus, he’d pulled off his warm, woolly sweater and used it to towel off her hair, despite her protests.
“Now you’ll be all damp and chilly,” she said, barely daring to look at him, because he was quite a sight.
His bare chest was hard with muscle, just as she’d assumed from the way it felt to be held in his arms. He looked incredible—and not like someone who just spent most of his day in a gym. Instead, he looked like someone ready to fell a tree or carry wayward sheep to safety through raging mountain rivers.
Or someone who’d rescue hapless and slightly stupid tourists from raging geysers...
“I’ll survive.” He gave her a smile. “A bit of dampness isn’t the worst this country has to offer.”
“Are you doing the Golden Tour as well? You weren’t on the bus with us,” she said suddenly. “I don’t want you to miss your bus because of me.”
“I rented a car,” he said. “I’ve been here before, but even though people nowadays probably claim that it’s overrun by tourists, I still love it. Popular or not—the landscape is stunning. The power of it...”
Power... what a strange word to use. And still, Autumn had thought the exact same thing earlier. There was something so wild and primal to it...
“It’s like the elements of the earth still rule here,” she murmured as she looked out of the window at the stark mountains rising in the distance.
“Yes,” he said after a moment, and when she turned, she found him watching her with something that almost looked like respect. “That’s exactly what it feels like, doesn’t it? Earth, water, air and fire... it all comes together here.”
“It’s beautiful,” Autumn sighed. She couldn’t stop smiling.
For some reason, Damon made her feel at ease—as if it was completely normal that she,
boring Autumn who had never even boarded a plane before, should sit in a foreign country next to an incredibly sexy, shirtless viking of a man.
Chapter Four: Damon
He hadn’t wanted to leave Autumn—his dragon hadn’t wanted to leave Autumn—but ten minutes into their conversation, the bus driver had returned, and Damon had found himself kicked off the bus.
“You’re going to Gullfoss next,” he told Autumn, his dragon jealously moving within him at the thought of leaving their mate behind again. “I’ve done the tour before. I’ll meet you there.”
Finding her again at the geyser had been an incredible stroke of luck. The strange feeling at the Blue Lagoon suddenly made sense: his dragon had sensed that their mate was near.
No wonder he hadn’t wanted to leave. They must have barely missed each other there.
A shudder ran through Damon as he contemplated what might have happened if he hadn’t insisted to the council that he needed to return.
He’d never worried overly much about mating, or what happened to those dragons who failed to find their mate before their full power overwhelmed them. He knew his duty to his family, after all, and if he wasn’t lucky enough to meet his mate, he’d have mated another shifter, because that was his duty.
But now that it had happened, he could barely believe the strength of emotion that ran through him.
He, Damon Drago, who’d always been known as the most serious and dutiful member of the council, had met his mate. And suddenly, the world, which had always appeared so clearly regulated and orderly to him, had been turned onto its head.
He’d break any rule for his mate. He’d woo her with song and dance if she asked it of him. He’d break into famous museums to lay the world’s most famous treasures at her feet...
No, he thought firmly while his dragon coiled greedily. No, we’re not going to break into museums.
He took a deep breath.
If this was what finding your mate was like, no wonder that the formerly flighty dragon of air had turned into such a reliable mate.
He couldn’t think of anything but Autumn: the gorgeous color of her auburn hair in the sunlight, the warmth of her body, the way her closeness made his dragon’s soul sing with pure joy.
