Page 39 of A Copenhagen Snowmance

Chapter Twenty-Seven

It takes Anna a moment to realise why the room seems weird.

It’s not her room. It’s Jamie’s. It’s not her bed, or her white bedding.

He favours a navy-blue check, and what’s more, it’s a double duvet, unlike the Danish standard of two singles.

An arm is wrapped about her body, heavy and warm, and he must sense her waking up as he pulls her in to him.

Other parts of Jamie are apparently awake, too.

She wiggles into his morning glory, with plans.

It’s all the invitation he needs as she’s suddenly swept on top of him, and off they go again.

She had told him, as he carried her up the stairs, her legs wrapped around his hips, their kisses hungry and incessant, that this could only be a one-off.

That nothing had changed and that she didn’t want to hurt him, so this was it and all it could be.

Once-and-Done. He paused for the merest of beats, that eyebrow raised, then pulled her lip lightly with his teeth and growled, “We’ll see.

” Right now, Anna is reasoning that Once-and-Done means one night, and it’s not fully light outside, so.

The second time she wakes, after an exhausted snooze, she’s facing him, her arm now draped over his chest. He’s propped up on his pillow, gazing at her.

“Have you been watching me sleep?”

“Like a stalker?” he asks.

“Yep.”

“Totally. Who wouldn’t?” He drops a kiss onto the crown of her head. “You’re gorgeous.”

She’ll take the flattery, but Anna worries about her sleep face, whether she’s dribbled or snored, but as he’s neither kicked her out of bed, nor run screaming from it, it can’t have been too bad.

“Good morning,” he says.

“So far,” Anna confirms. She must thank Katrine for her advice at some point.

It was excellent advice, expertly dispensed.

Last night was … exquisite. Everything she had dreamt of, and round two had been even more.

Jamie has not disappointed, it is fair to say.

She aches in all the rights places, muscles having been flexed and stretched for the first time in a long time.

She sits up, about to wrap herself in the duvet, to do the coffee run.

“What?” he asks, regarding her creased brow.

“You have a double duvet.”

“So?”

“If I take it, you’ll have nothing. You’ll be cold. Another reason Danish couples favour singles.”

“The other reason being?” Jamie looks baffled.

Apparently, Jamie has not been having a lot of sleepovers in the Copenhagen area.

Something about that pleases Anna, but she chooses not to examine it too hard.

But a celibate Jamie is a loss to the city’s women.

She’ll have to have a word with him about that.

“Danes generally stick to singles,” she answers to his question. “Means you aren’t fighting over the share of the duvet in the middle of the night, and you don’t overheat.”

“And that’s what you and Carl had?”

“Yes, of course.”

“For how many years?”

She’s not sure she sees the relevance. “Six.”

“Hmm,” is all he says.

Anna tweaks his nipple, which makes him yelp. “What does that ‘hmm’ mean?”

“Nothing.”

“There was a judgement there. Tell me, MacDonald.” She holds her fingers in pinch-pose above the reddening nipple.

“Well, I’ve always enjoyed being under a duvet with someone I like.

The shared warmth, the closeness, the intimacy.

You can pull it over you and be cocooned in your own little world, just the two of you.

Who wouldn’t want that? I reckon it’s good for couples.

If you can’t share a duvet, how can you share a life?

That’s what I think. Plus, it halves the chance of getting a cold arse. ”

She can’t fault him on the statistics there.

“I think Danes would say not fighting over duvet share has saved many marriages.”

Jamie crosses his arms and shakes his head. “Hard disagree, and this is a hill I’ll die on.”

Luckily, Anna hasn’t minded the double, nor sharing it with him, so she’s not inclined to pick this fight.

And besides, as per the deal with herself, she won’t be doing it again.

This, this thing between them, they’ve explored it now.

Surely, that should calm the simmering in her torso.

That was the actual point of Once-and-Done. Only, why then is she still thrumming?

Unsettled, she stands and heads for the door, taking the duvet with her and leaving him very naked and presumably cooling rapidly on his hill.

* * *

Anna looks out of the kitchen window to the street as she waits for the coffee to pour through the percolator.

The street is busy as her neighbours come and go, maybe completing the last of their Christmas shopping or buying food for tomorrow night.

It’s Lille Jule Aften, Little Christmas Eve, or Christmas Eve Eve as she’s been amused to hear her London neighbours call it.

She’s not going to bother calling the airlines or check online today.

This will be one of their busiest days already as people make their final sprints home ahead of Christmas.

What would she be doing in London for these next few days anyway?

Sitting in her apartment, as everything is closed.

Maybe working, but she can do that here, too.

And besides, Jamie just gave her a beautiful gift of a nostalgically decorated living room, so it feels rude not to park the exit strategy just for the next few days.

If nothing else, it might just be a light relief not to be worrying about it, just for now.

Looking at the Christmas scene at the other end of the room truly does feel like a gift. And it dawns on her that she doesn’t have one for him. When she leaves Copenhagen, she’ll be taking some earth-moving memories with her, and Anna finds she wants to have left a mark with him, too.

But what do you get for a man who you don’t know very well, but well enough to know that in his life of environmental concern, it shouldn’t be something disposable, inconsequential or temporary?

No joke-gift for Jamie. It needs an actual purpose or, if not functional, then particular beauty.

She doesn’t know him well enough either to buy him something arty and worthy for its form.

This is tough. Looking at the nisser and the baubles again, she realises he did something deeply thoughtful for her.

He had a guess at something she might like, strike that, she might love, and he did it.

The coffee scent is working its way around her face and sparking some ideas.

Something he hasn’t got for himself… Anna’s brainstorming brings her attention back into the street and something ignites a big, but perfect, thought.

It’ll take research, negotiation and luck.

But she has the time and most of those skills – her luck has been a little iffy recently, but even that has brought her an experience in Jamie’s bed, so eh, it’s worth a go.

* * *

“Get your coat, Jamie,” Anna announces, walking into the living room. “We’re going for a ride.”

“I can think of a ride we could take and not even leave this room,” he says, catching her wrist from his spot in the sofa.

She looks down into his face and feels the pull in the pit of her belly.

It would be so easy to let him tug her down into his lap, for them to continue where they left off this morning.

She’s been replaying last night and sees quite clearly that it would be just as easy to become used to it, and fall for it, for him, and she knows this would be the worst thing to happen.

“Come on, Anna,” he coaxes, his voice husky, “I haven’t seen you for hours.

” This is true. She’s been squirrelled away in her room, under the excuse of an “emergency web post” for Katrine.

There is something about a husky-slightly-desperate Jamie, which makes breathing a little painful for her.

Her resolve, though, is stronger, not least because she’s slightly desperate herself, but to give him her gift.

“Come on,” she mimics back, “coat on.”

“Bossy,” she hears him murmur, sulkily.

“No, just direct. You know the Danes,” she calls from the hallway, pulling on her boots.

He stomps lightly across to follow her, then tries to feel her up, which she points out is pointless as she extracts herself, given all the layers. Jamie’s mouth purses and he leans against the wall, arms crossed.

“You OK?”

“Sure.”

“You aren’t freaking out?”

“Freaking out? Me? No. Of course not.” She does her best to look him right in the eyes, face open and with a smile.

“You’re being weird.”

She pulls an offended face. “No, I’m not. I’ve been working on something and now I want to show you.” Why can’t he just follow along as instructed?

“OK, not weird. But you are being distant,” he corrects.

“Because I said no to going at it on the sofa?” she asks.

Now Jamie looks offended, that muscle pulsing in his jaw again.

Anna feels the mood has shifted. This isn’t what she wants.

She doesn’t want to have a discussion about them, not now – not at all, to be honest – and especially when they have somewhere to be.

“I’m not being distant, I just have something up my sleeve, something I’ve been arranging, and it’s time-sensitive, so we need to go.”

The look Jamie sends her says he’s neither convinced nor letting this go, but willing to pause it for now. She’ll take that – The Conversation can be Future Anna’s problem.

“You’re in the front this time,” she throws at him, opening the front door, changing the subject.

“You’re driving the chariot?”

“I am,” she says, determined. “Today you are the princess.”

This turns out to be something Anna regrets by the time they reach the end of the street. Jamie has apparently bought an old Christiania bike, one built before batteries, and each rotation of the pedals is exhausting.

“Do you want to swap?” he asks.

“No,” she insists through gritted teeth.

“It saves on the gym membership.” Great.