A Midwinter Fantasy - Leanna Renee Hieber [78]
“Would you like a cup of coffee, Sonja?”
“Oh, no thanks.” Her stomach did nervous somersaults. She closed her eyes and opened her mind to the loving presence of the spiritual being she thought of as her guardian angel, who always soothed her mind when she was upset or nervous. His quiet strength filled her, steadying her nerves. When she was a little girl, she’d assumed everyone had a spirit to comfort them until her aunt threatened to put her button collection in the trash if she ever told anyone.
Silently she rehearsed her pitch to secure a room allocation at deep discount for her aunt’s travel company, Destination Heaven. If she secured this plum deal, her aunt would have to admit she was ready to handle the foreign destinations. She wished she’d had time to work up marketing plans to show Vidar, but his letter inviting her aunt Una to a meeting had only arrived yesterday.
A buzzer sounded. The second woman ushered Sonja toward a set of double doors. “Vidar will see you now.”
Sonja’s heart jigged. Her fingers touched the button in her pocket. “May my dreams come true,” she whispered. She swallowed a few times and cleared her throat.
She breezed through the door, trying to imitate Una’s confidence. One look at the man who rose from his chair to greet her and her step faltered. Vidar stood tall, his powerful physique showcased by a dark suit. His shaggy black hair gleamed under the office lights while stubble shadowed his lean, bronzed face. He obviously wasn’t a native Icelander. Her research indicated that he’d founded the resort in the late fifties, but that couldn’t be correct as he only looked to be in his midthirties.
He stepped out from behind his desk and extended a hand, his lustrous golden gaze devouring her as if he’d never seen a woman before. Sonja’s heart thumped as the firm warmth of his palm swallowed her hand.
“Sonja.”
He spoke her name in a thick velvet whisper, as if it were sacred. The seductive foreign lilt of his voice zinged along her nerves. She had the weird feeling that she knew his voice, knew him. Even though she’d never seen his face before.
“Hello, Vidar, thank you for meeting with me.”
For long moments he scrutinized her. She couldn’t drag her gaze away from his compelling golden brown eyes.
“Where’s Una?”
His question broke the spell, and she dropped her gaze to the white cat-shaped pin in his tie. Did he know her aunt, or had he used her aunt’s Christian name because of Icelandic convention? Sonja tried to pull back her hand, but his grip tightened.
“She’s taking a martial arts course in South America. I thought your letter sounded too good an opportunity to delay the meeting until she returned.” Sonja winced at her overly eager response. She might as well get down on her knees and beg for his business.
“Hmm.” Even his murmur had a husky foreign tone that echoed through her, raising goose bumps on her arms.
“I have my aunt’s permission to negotiate a deal on her behalf.” It was a little white lie but the only way she’d ever get a chance to prove herself.
Finally, he released her hand. He waited for her to be seated in the leather guest chair before he dropped back into his seat on the other side of the desk. With a brooding look, he ran the side of his hand over his lips.
“What has Una told you about our customs?”
“My aunt’s told me a little about Iceland.” A lie, but he wasn’t to know. Her aunt flatly refused to tell her anything about the country of her birth or her parents.
Vidar stared at her some more and shook his head to himself. “You’re the spitting image of your father.” He gestured toward her. “Exactly the same blonde hair and blue eyes.”
Sonja touched the long hair spread over her shoulders, willing Vidar to elaborate. “You know my father?”
“Uh-huh.” He tapped his fingers on the