Desire flooded through her, mixed with a dose of guilt. But this wasn’t being unfaithful to Evan. He wouldn’t have wanted her to spend her life alone and mourning him. He would’ve wanted her to keep seeing the joy in life and focus on the good stuff. Sam Price was the first man she’d wanted to kiss since she’d lost Evan. And this was meant to be the Year of Saying Yes. So she leaned into Sam, kissing him back.
When he finally broke the kiss, there was a dark slash of colour along his cheekbones and his mouth was reddened; she was pretty sure that she looked in the same state.
‘Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I’ll meet you here at nine—if that’s not too early?’
‘That’s perfect,’ she said.
And she couldn’t wait.
ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, Hayley walked out of her hotel at nine on the dot to see Sam walking towards her from his car.
‘Perfect timing,’ she said with a smile.
‘Absolutely,’ he agreed.
Hayley tingled right down to her toes. Crazy how this man made her feel like a teenager. It had been a long, long time since she’d felt butterflies in her stomach just at the sight of someone.
‘Before we go,’ she said carefully, ‘I think we ought to talk about last night.’
He nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.’
This was the crunch moment. ‘I’m not sorry,’ she said, and watched his eyes darken. ‘We’re both single.’
‘So are you saying...?’
That maybe, just maybe, a holiday romance would be good for both of them. No strings, no consequences, no promises. And no depth, so saying goodbye would be easy. ‘You’re getting over a bad break-up. I’m getting over my partner’s death. We’re both...a bit stuck where we are, I guess. Neither of us wants anything permanent right now.’
He seemed to be following her thought processes exactly. ‘But a holiday romance might help us both move on,’ he said.
She nodded. ‘With an end date. I’m only here for a couple more days.’ Neither of them would get hurt in such a short space of time.
‘Just so you know, I don’t do this with every woman I meet,’ he said. ‘You’re the first woman I’ve kissed since Lynda and I split up.’
‘You’re the first man I’ve even noticed since Evan died,’ she said softly. ‘And I think my years in emergency medicine have made me a reasonable judge of character. I’d already worked out that you’re not one of these men who have notches carved on their bedposts. You’re one of the good guys.’
He inclined his head. ‘Thank you. Though I wasn’t fishing for compliments.’
‘I didn’t think you were.’ She smiled. ‘So where are we going today?’
‘I think,’ he said, ‘given what you’ve just said, I’d like to start by kissing you hello.’
‘Sounds good to me.’
He took a step forward, rested his hands on her shoulders, and brushed his mouth lightly against hers. The butterflies in her stomach started doing a stampede; then he slid his hands down her arms, wrapped them round her waist, and kissed her more thoroughly.
Her knees were weak by the time he broke the kiss.
‘Good morning,’ he said.
She smiled. ‘It is now.’
He stole another kiss. ‘We’re going to start at Reynisfjara, to see the beach with black sand and the basalt columns,’ he said. ‘And then we’ll go to see a glacier and your waterfall.’
‘That sounds perfect,’ she said.
Once he’d parked at Reynisfjara and they were out of the car, he looked at her and held out his hand. She took it with a smile, and they walked hand in hand onto the beach. The sand was black and slightly pebbly, in sharp contrast to the turquoise blue of the Atlantic, and Hayley stood watching the waves crash onto the shore.
‘The sea’s pretty calm right now,’ Sam said, ‘but in the winter the Atlantic rollers can get absolutely huge.’
She could just imagine the massive waves thundering in.
‘And right at this point there’s nothing but ocean between you and the Antarctic.’
She blinked. Was he teasing her? ‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously.’ He led her over to the cave with the hexagonal basalt columns.
‘It reminds of me of Giant’s Causeway in Ireland,’ she said. ‘And it’s definitely like the church in Reykjavik.’
Tourists were standing on the shorter columns, posing for photographs. ‘When in Rome—or, rather, Reynisfjara,’ he quipped, and helped her climb onto the columns so he could take a photo with her camera. The touch of his hands, even through the material of her T-shirt, sent a thrill right through her.
Once she’d climbed down again, he pointed out the colony of puffins above; the tiny birds with their distinctive orange beaks moved incredibly fast, and Hayley had to admit defeat when she’d tried to take ten photographs of them and all had failed.
They walked hand in hand back to the car, then he drove them up a steep, winding track to the Dyrhólaey promontory, where they had a clear view of the rock with a ‘door’ in it that gave its name to the area. Sam stood with his arms wrapped round her waist. Up here where the wind was keen and the air was clear, she felt almost as if she were on top of the world.
‘So what are those rocks jutting up over there?’
‘Basalt stacks,’ he said. ‘The Reynisdrangar. Local legend says they were trolls who were trying to drag a ship from the sea onto land—but then the sun rose and the light turned them to stone.’
A land of legends, ice and fire.
A land that was going to start to heal her heart.
‘Bucket list time,’ he said. ‘We’re going to Solheimajökull—you can actually get up close to the glacier and touch it.’
When they parked, she could see a lake, and immediately behind it was the glacier.
‘But it’s dark grey,’ she said. ‘Aren’t glaciers white or blue?’
‘The grey’s from sediment,’ he said, ‘and the white bits are snow and fresh ice.’
She peered up at the glacier. ‘And are they people over there, walking on top of the glacier?’
He nodded. ‘That’s the kind of thing my brother Martin’s company offers—though it’s not safe to walk on a glacier without a guide who knows the area and can tell if there are sinkholes.’
‘And you’re qualified to do the guided walks?’
‘Yes. I was part of the mountain rescue team when I worked in Manchester—we’re not far from the Peak District or the Lakes. Actually, I was part of the team well before I qualified as a doctor, because I grew up in the Peak District. I’m also a qualified diver,’ he said.
Mountain