No! You’re not that kind of girl. She took a deep breath, the intoxicating fantasies ebbing away with a bracing dose of reality. She wasn’t the sort of girl to give away her virtue lightly. She didn’t know how to be that girl or how to live like that. Katrin was a nice girl, the marrying kind.
Which meant that there were only two options: the first was that she and Erik stay friends, and she wouldn’t repeat her forward behavior from last Sunday or indulge the sweet fantasies that tortured her. The second option wasn’t even worth considering because it was so unlikely; Erik would change into the sort of man who could offer her his heart.
Hmm, she concluded, surprised by the intensity of her regret at the inevitable answer: Friends it is. And make sure he knows it.
***
Erik waited with annoyance for the stoplight to change, irritated that even a few minutes of his day with Katrin should be stolen. After poring over various maps and using the well-honed skills he had developed working as a tour guide for his father, he was confident he had created a perfect day. A boat ride, a hike, and some downtime with a picnic lunch.
He’d definitely planned the day with the hope of getting a little more intimate with Katrin. Though he fully acknowledged that it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with her, now that they’d kissed, he couldn’t get her out of his head. In all quiet moments, of which there were many while training, his mind turned to her.
During their week apart he had thought about that mini panic attack more than once, and it bothered him that Katrin’s dreams had affected him so personally. He had never felt that intense rush of emotions for any other woman, but Erik didn’t want her to stay singular and separate in his mind; he didn’t want her to be special.
Erik had only come up with one solution to evict her: he needed to have sex with her to get her out of his system. That way he could group her more efficiently with the other women he had meaninglessly romanced throughout his life. His present longing for her was messing with his head, but he refused to admit it was anything more than a manifestation of his physical hunger, and that it would disappear the instant he satisfied it.
If she hadn’t leaned over and kissed him on Sunday night, he may never have allowed his thoughts to rampage in this direction, despite his ever-increasing attraction to her. She had completely surprised him by initiating that kiss. Countless times throughout the day he’d recalled the touch of her lips on his, the warm, smooth skin of her back under his fingertips, the way her hands held his face—the memories assaulted him constantly.
Yes. One thing was clear. He had to bed her, with no strings attached. But, how?
Erik had no interest in hurting her; as far as women went, he liked her. Quite a lot. Just not enough to offer her more than a casual relationship. Plus, Erik had no interest in jeopardizing the relationships they had in common if she started wanting more from him and things went south between them. Ingrid’s warning to stay away from Kat rang in his head, a warning of how messy things would get if he hurt her.
He had almost despaired of a solution for convincing Kat to sleep with him with no-strings-attached until something very elementary dawned on him: Most women needed a casual transition lover to help them segue from one failed meaningful relationship to a new one. Of course! What Kat needed was a rebound fling!
He warmed up to the idea quickly, imagining her relief to move on to the rebound phase so that she could find her “forever guy” that much quicker. Surely she would see the logic in it, because she was attracted to him too. If they were both adults about it, they could each get something they needed from each other without any messy entanglements.
Now, in the back of his mind, in an annoying place raining on his parade and unwilling to jump on the “fling” bandwagon, he had to acknowledge the unlikely possibility that she would stick to an outdated, and incredibly inconvenient, moral high ground. That she’d only let him have her body if he offered his heart in exchange. But Erik hoped that if he clearly outlined his plan, she would acknowledge the merits of involving only the organs found conveniently south of the heart.
He turned onto her street and felt his heart flip-flop like a fish on a dock gasping for air. He swallowed, narrowing his eyes in desperation, willing his heart to stay impenetrable. Falling for her emotionally was not an option, and he tried wildly to close his heart against any possible breach; any blonde, dimpled Trojan horse in the form of Katrin Svenson.
They could be friends, or they could be lovers. Those were the only two options, and with his well-designed plan of attack, Erik hoped she would agree with him to pursue the latter.
***
Convinced she could only expect friendship from Erik, Katrin felt very betrayed when her heart leapt at the sight of his car pulling into the driveway. She jumped off the swing, scooped up her bag, and sprinted to his car with a cheerful wave. Erik jumped out of the car with surprising grace for such a large man and caught her around the waist with one corded arm.
“Ӓlskling.” He smiled, pulling her up against his body.
Happiness erupted inside of her, and a beaming smile burst across her face, concealing nothing. “Minste.”
He raised his eyebrows suggestively at her, looking down at her breasts, which were crushed against his chest, offering a tantalizing view of her
