Page 7 of Winter’s Heart (Three of Hearts #1)

He gave a sudden laugh. “You Americans, I always forget how direct you can be. It’s a series of laser beams and cameras, that’s all,” he added when he noticed the look on her face. “They’re not intended to kill anyone.”

“Oh, right.” Of course, what had she been thinking? Her face heated, and she spun her head around to hide her embarrassment, turning her focus on taking a better look at the rest of the cabin while Jacob got on with preparing the food.

She’d noted as they’d approached his hut earlier that, unlike her holiday cabin, which was red, this one was constructed of thick, natural logs on the outside, with a small porch protecting the main door as they entered.

Inside, it was just one large, open-plan room, the walls finished in more natural pine planks that looked as if they might have been hand hewn.

The furs on the floor were possibly reindeer hides, giving the place even more of a rustic vibe.

The wood-burning stove took up a central position, with a comfy set of couches on the opposite end from where she sat at the table next to the kitchen.

Homey and practical, it was clearly old, but well cared for.

Jacob had mentioned this was his family’s land, and so his father had perhaps built this hut, or even his father’s father before that.

Nikki had heard these traditional winter huts were incredibly hard to buy and rarely, if ever, came onto the market, as they were handed down from generation to generation within a family.

But where did everyone sleep? Not on the couches or the floor, surely?

Then her gaze landed on a set of steep steps nestled in one corner, and she understood the bedroom, or bedrooms, must be on a second floor upstairs.

Jacob interrupted her musings when he appeared at her elbow, and said, “The food is ready. Let me help you get comfortable.” He bent down and took her feet out of the bowl, wrapping them quickly in a soft, dry towel.

She nearly flinched away from him, unused to having someone—especially a stranger—handle her feet.

But he was gentle and professional, and she decided she quite liked his touch.

And was also enjoying the view of his broad shoulders and strong neck bent below her as he tended her feet.

“How are they?” he asked without looking up.

“The feeling is coming back. They’re a little sore,” she admitted, already knowing that was a good thing without him having to tell her. “I’m not sure I could walk too far on them right now, but I think they’ll be better by tomorrow.”

“Hmm.” Nikki didn’t like his noncommittal grunt, but before she could make further comments, he placed a bowl of steaming soup on the table next to her, and the smell made Nikki’s mouth water like crazy.

She swiveled in her seat so she was facing the food, careful to keep her feet bundled up in the towel.

“Oh, wow.” She wafted her nose down over the bowl. “What is it? Beef and vegetable?”

“Close. It’s moose and vegetable,” he corrected.

She’d never tasted moose before. But then her stomach rumbled, and she decided she was game for just about anything right now.

“Did you make this?” she asked, leaning over to take another sniff.

It smelled delicious, so she picked up her spoon.

But her fingers were painful and slightly swollen, and she found she couldn’t hold the utensil properly.

“Are you okay? I can help if you like?” He leaned toward her, as if ready to grab her spoon, concern etched on his face.

“No, no, I can do it,” she assured him. She might look awkward, holding the spoon in her fist rather than between her fingers, but it was infinitely less awkward than having him spoon-feed her like a baby.

He sat down and picked up his own spoon. “Yes, I made this,” he confirmed. “I haven’t hunted recently, so this has been in the freezer since late summer, but it should still be good.”

Nikki’s spoon stalled halfway to her mouth.

“You mean you killed the moose?” She was eating an animal that Jacob had shot?

Why did the idea shock her? Hunting was a big sport in America; her cousins, who lived in Montana, were avid huntsmen, even though she’d politely refused to take part whenever they invited her on one of her rare visits.

And part of her knew that hunting was a big part of the Swedish culture as well.

But still… It changed her concept of Jacob ever so slightly.

Not necessarily for the worse, but more that it cemented in her head he could be a dangerous man if the need arose.

“Of course,” he replied matter-of-factly. “The moose was on my land—my family’s land—and we never take too many, just what we need.”

“Yes, yes,” she nodded her head in agreement, putting the stalled spoon to her lips.

“Oh, this is freaking delicious.” It was good, hot and with a satisfying dash of spicy pepper.

“I’ve never tasted moose before, but I think I’m a convert,” she said through another mouthful of food.

The heat of the soup warmed her from the inside, and she finally began to feel almost normal again.

He gave a shy smile at her compliment, the dimple reappearing, and against her better judgement, she decided she was beginning to like Jacob. Not only was he strong, with a tough exterior, but it seemed he had a softer side; a man who could cook this well was a rare find indeed.

They ate in silence for a few moments, Nikki savoring the gamey taste of the meat, mixed with carrots and celery and what might be barley.

It was a good, hearty soup, exactly what she needed.

It didn’t escape her how unreal this whole scenario was.

Eating soup with a police officer who’d just rescued her from a deadly threat, and they were now holed up in his isolated winter hut in the middle of a Swedish forest. Never in her wildest dreams could she have conjured up this scenario.

If only Tammy could’ve known when she suggested this holiday, she might’ve…

Nikki stopped eating, remembering that her colleague was dead.

It seemed unbelievable. Beautiful, bubbly Tammy.

A US Fulbright Fellow, a staunch advocate for the preservation of the Nordic fjord ecosystems, passionate about her job at the institute, a brilliant teacher and a loyal friend.

Tammy was twenty years older than Nikki but had taken her under her wing when she first joined the institute seven years ago, and they’d formed a strong bond ever since.

And Antoine, earnest and accomplished, but also with that very French dry sense of humor when the mood took him.

He was one of the young interns who joined the institute every year to bring their energy and knowledge for their chosen environmental causes to the forefront.

She wasn’t as familiar with Antoine, having only met him a few weeks before this planned trip to Norway, but she liked and respected him.

Why would anyone want her friends dead? They’d done nothing to harm anyone, had no enemies that Nikki could fathom.

She placed her spoon on the table, her appetite suddenly replaced with a heavy stone of grief in the pit of her stomach. So many questions tumbled through her head.

Jacob sensed her change in mood and also stopped eating, a question in the lift of his eyebrow.

But before Nikki could put one of the many issues into words, a satellite phone on a small side table jangled with an incoming call. Jacob sat up straighter, fixing the phone with his sharp gaze. Then he stood quickly, grabbing it, answering it after only the second ring.

“Hello.” He sounded just as officious as he had when he’d first burst into her sauna, speaking with a stilted bluntness, and she understood he must be speaking to a superior, but at least still in English so she could understand.

“Yes, Deputy Commissioner, I have her here with me.” Nikki watched Jacob’s features intently, trying to read any subtle changes that’d let her know what else was being said.

But he was very good at keeping his thoughts carefully hidden, his answers monosyllabic.

A gust of frustrated air left her lips, and she sat back in her chair and folded her arms, staring daggers at him.

She wasn’t sure about ranks in the Swedish police, but if it were anything like the American cops, then a deputy commissioner must be fairly high up. Which meant she was important. But why?

Soon, it became too much for her to bear; she needed to hear what was going on.

They were speaking about her. And about her friends.

She had a right to know. She leaned forward so that she was directly in Jacob’s line of sight and caught his eye, wrinkling her brow and pressing her lips together in a silent plea to be let in on the conversation.

He shook his head and turned slightly away.

Oh no, he wasn’t getting away with it that easily.

She went to stand, and sharp pains shot through her feet, sending her quickly back to her seat.

Shit, they were much sorer than she thought.

She tried again, this time easing her weight up slowly, leaning on the table for support.

She found she could stand, but her feet felt like they were on fire.

At least she now had Jacob’s attention; he’d moved around the table, concern etched into the lines on his forehead, the phone still clamped tightly to one ear.

If she could not walk, she could still make her point, so she tilted her chin up and put her hands on hips, daring him to ignore her now.

He watched her for a few seconds, still listening intently to whatever the deputy commissioner was saying, and she thought he was going to continue to disregard her silent appeal, until he surprised her by suddenly saying, “Can I put you on speaker, sir? Nik…Dr. Winter would like to hear what we’re saying. ”