Nine Hours

Chapter 34

Hot, strong coffee warms me as I sip and stare out at the endless rain. Glancing over my shoulder, Gunnar taps away at the keyboard on his laptop. He hasn't stopped smiling all morning, and finds any excuse to touch me, wrap his arm around my waist, or kiss me anywhere. The man is a giant love-sick puppy.

"What exactly are you doing, Gunnar?"

He pauses and gazes up with a devilish grin. "Placing an order."

"Oh, for what?"

"Lingerie. I decided you need more. You look sexy in it. I may even buy you a separate dresser just for it." He taps a key with finality. "There. Done. It'll be here tomorrow."

"How much did you order?" I'm not doing a very good job of stifling the laughter begging to be released.

He shrugs. "Enough for a couple of weeks."

I grip the mug to keep from dropping it on the floor. "What? I certainly hope not."

Standing, he comes to me and sets the mug on the side table. Without missing a beat, he pulls me into his lap as he takes a seat on the sofa. "I absolutely did. I love seeing you in sexy underwear. You should have enough to wear a different matching set every day. You wouldn't deny me, now, would you?" Gunnar smacks a light kiss on my forehead.

"Well, when you put it that way..."

"Exactly. Now then, it's time for your lessons."

"What lessons?"

"You need to learn Norwegian. We start today."

My mouth gapes. "I'm not sure I can. I took a couple years of French in high school and a semester of German in college before I had to...leave. But certainly not enough to carry on a meaningful conversation." College was a short-lived experience as I quit to take care of my sick mother. I hoped I'd retaining enough of the two languages to get by in Europe.

"It will be easy." Without further discussion, Gunnar starts in with simple words and phrases such as "hello," "goodbye," "how are you?" making me repeat them multiple times, correcting my accent and intonations.

It feels foolish, and I wish there was a way to implant the knowledge directly into my brain.

"Try this." He slowly enunciates a sentence while sporting a suspicious gleam in his eye. "Say it."

"Du er den beste mannen i Norge." I repeat it. He smirks. "Oh, Cassie, I'm so flattered. Thank you."

I smack him on the arm. "What did you make me say?"

Shaking his head playfully, he refuses to tell me what it means, then cups my chin in his hand. "Du er mitt livs lys, Cassie. You are the light of my life."

He lowers me onto the sofa, gently nipping at my lips, then lightly licking them. I suspect Norwegian 101 is over for today. In the next instant, my whole body awakens to him, begging to have his naked flesh against mine.

The front door bangs open.

"Gunnar. We need to go. Now." Erik strolls into the room bearing a grim expression, which seconds later morphs to a grin as he takes in the scene before him. "Ah. I've interrupted something interesting."

"Do you think so? What was the clue? I'm plastered on top of my sexy wife, whom I can't get enough of, and you've barged in here and put a stop to things. This better be good."

Gunnar doesn't move, and I desperately want to sink into the crack of the cushions. Embarrassed, I push at Gunnar, but he stays firm.

"Gunnar, get up." Slowly, he does, but it's clear that's the last thing he wanted to do. I turn so my back faces Erik, hiding my rising embarrassment.