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“I changed my plans at the last minute,” I say, my teeth chattering through my smile.
Norbert returns my smile and hurries me along to the side door.
“I heard a car at the gate, and that got my attention. Come in. I’ll take you straight to the house.”
We hurry through the garden as I shiver. He offers me his coat, but I refuse. I’m not going to do that. At the house, we head toward the kitchen door. Norbert takes out a key, opens the door, and invites me in.
“Let me make something warm for you. You need it!”
“No ... no, please,” I say, taking his cold hands. “Go back to your home. It’s late, and you should rest.”
“But, miss, I ...”
“Norbert, it’s OK. I’ll make it myself. Now, please, go home.”
He agrees reluctantly and tells me Eric is usually in his office at this hour and Flyn is asleep. I thank him for the information, and he finally leaves.
I’m alone in the vast, dark kitchen. The house is quiet and gives me goose bumps, but I’m back! I’m still shivering, but thinking about Eric and how close he is starts to warm me up. I’m nervous, anxious to see his face when he sees me.
Unable to wait one more second, I head toward his office, and, as I come near, I hear music. Like a child, I put my ear up to the door and grin when I hear Norah Jones’s beautiful voice singing “Don’t Know Why.”
I didn’t know Eric liked her, but I am delighted to find out.
I quietly open the door and see my tough guy sitting next to that huge fireplace with a wineglass in his hand as he contemplates the flames. I’m enveloped by the music, the warmth, and the emotion when I see him, and I start toward him. Suddenly, he turns his head and spots me.
He shoots up. I’m breathing harder, and his face says it all: he’s surprised!
He leaves the glass on a little table. His astonished face makes me happy, and I drop the backpack I’m still carrying around in my frozen hands.
“Papá says hello and that he hopes we have a happy New Year’s Eve.” Eric blinks; I shudder. “And since you told me I could come back anytime, here I am! And ...”
But I can’t say much more. My tall German walks toward me and embraces me with genuine tenderness.
“You don’t know how much I wanted this to happen,” he whispers before kissing me.
When he lifts his lips from mine, he just smiles ... until suddenly he flinches.
“For the love of God, Jude! You’re frozen, my love! Come and sit near the fire.”
He takes me by the hand, and I do as he says. He looks at me with such warmth.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asks, still in the throes of the surprise. “I would have gone to get you.”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
Looking worried, he pushes the damp hair from my face.
“But you’re frozen, love.”
“It doesn’t matter ...”
He kisses me.
“Have you had dinner?”
I shake my head, and he helps me out of my cold and frozen coat.
“Take off those clothes. They’re wet, and you’ll get sick.”