Because of Lauren: A Love Story Page 5
They walked the short distance to a small, wooden garage that housed Jonas’ Volvo. He backed out, then carefully drove the car along the narrow gravel track and onto the highway above.
“Pretty smooth operation,” Lauren said admiringly. It had taken less than ten minutes from the time they left the island dock until they were in the car and on their way.
“Years of practice. My grandparents used a rowboat for many years, the one you saw tied up at the dock. Now I keep it for my cousins’ children when they come. They never seem to tire of messing about in it.”
He keeps a boat for his cousins’ children! For the second time that day, she thought Jonas should have a family of his own. She had a feeling he was essentially lonely, and for some reason, that bothered her. She leaned back in her seat and sighed.
Jonas gave Lauren a quick look. “Tired?”
“A little. A good tired, though,” she added without expounding on the real reason for the sigh. “You are a good host, Jonas. I’ve had a wonderful day.”
He smiled. “I’m glad. It’s been a good day for me, too.”
They traveled in silence until he asked, “What time should I pick you up for church?”
“You’re picking me up?”
“Of course.”
“But I live so far out of your way.” He had an apartment in the city. She was staying with friends north of the city, and the church was at Fantoft, to the south. “I have access to a car. We could meet at the church.”
“Let me be a gentleman and pick you up,” he insisted. “What time does it start?”
“Eleven. We should probably leave the house by ten-twenty or so.”
“I’ll be there,” he promised.
While the car ate up the miles, Lauren silently reflected on their day. She had been so at ease with Jonas it felt as though they’d been friends for years. While cruising the fjords that morning, they had interacted so naturally and comfortably, talking and laughing and simply enjoying the day and each other’s company. He had drawn her attention to points of interest along the way and had even encouraged her to take the helm of the large, beautiful boat. Under his tutelage, she had gotten the hang of it and experienced the awesome feeling of having the boat respond to her hand— and she had loved it. They had prepared a meal in the galley, which Jonas served on china plates with real flatware and cloth napkins. Lauren had been suitably impressed by his style and knew this day would become a cherished memory.
She thought of her excitement when her Aunt Nina first emailed her about Jonas. Of course, he wasn’t Jonas to her then, merely an unknown long, lost cousin. Funny how she had felt compelled to seek him out from the moment she heard about him. Lauren smiled to herself. She was quite sure that if the same Jonas had been thirty years older, she would have enjoyed her time with him just as much. But he wasn’t thirty years older, he was thirty-five and amazing. She turned her head and stole a quick glance. His profile was strong and well-defined, his features relaxed. At that exact moment, he turned his head and smiled.
And Lauren’s world tilted.
Earlier that day, while cruising the fjord, the two of them had been on the upper deck, engaged in friendly conversation. Suddenly, he’d laughed at something she said, and a distinct feeling of déjà vu washed over her. Once before she had stood exactly like that, leaning against the railing while they talked and laughed together. It was impossible. They only met a couple of days ago, and she had never set foot on his boat until today, yet in her mind, she saw the moment clearly.
That feeling of having been with Jonas before stayed with her, but the occasion had eluded her.
Until this moment.
She had seen him before. In a dream. The dream she fought to hold on to when Jon had nudged her awake on the dock that first day.
She drew a deep breath. This was crazy! How could she remember the details of a dream so clearly? Yet she did. Unable to resist, she stole another glance at him, and as she did so, the most amazing feeling came over her, a sensation of being wrapped in a soft, warm blanket. And she knew. She had fallen in love with Jonas. Unbidden, a shiver shot through her body.
Jonas noticed the shiver and placed a hand over hers. “Cold?” he asked solicitously.
Lauren hesitated. She could hardly tell him what had just happened. Not when they barely knew each other. So, in response, she took a deep breath, touched his hand lightly and said, “No, I’m okay.”
She might have been naive, but the possibility of falling for Jonas had never occurred to her. Why would it? She had expected him to be a man in his sixties, for goodness sake! Also, she didn’t get involved with non-LDS men. The one time she had gotten involved with a man outside her faith, the relationship had ended in pain and disillusionment. It was not an experience she was eager to repeat.
Then why did loving Jonas feel so right?
After a long silence, she said softly, “Jonas.”
He shot her a quick glance. “Mm-hmm?”
“Did you know I was a Latter-day Saint before we met?”
“No, I didn’t, though I knew there was a possibility you might be. I mentioned I have a friend who’s a member of your church. His name is Jake Andrews, and we met at Harvard. When I discovered your branch of the family, I told him about it. He thought because the family had settled in Utah all those years ago, there was a good chance they were members, too.”
“Makes sense.”
“And when you turned down a cup of coffee, I wondered.”
“You didn’t have coffee.”
“No, I’m not a coffee drinker, but I keep it on hand for friends and family.”
“I see. What else?”
He gave her a quick grin. “You probably shouldn’t ask.”
“Why? Did I do something dreadful?”
“Not at all.” His grin widened. “It was your swimsuit.”
“My swimsuit?” What did her swimsuit have to do with anything? It was a simple, modest one-piece. “What was wrong with it?”
Jonas chuckled. “Not a thing,” he assured her. “If I remember correctly, it was a sort of shimmery, golden-brown thing, very alluring. You looked stunning as you dove from the deck into the water.”
The compliment was so unexpected that Lauren sat speechless for a moment. Then, remembering how many swimsuits she had tried on before finding one that was modest enough to suit her, she burst out laughing. “Alluring? I wasn’t aiming for alluring when I bought that suit, I was aiming for modest.”
“You missed,” was his dry comment.
“I was fully covered,” she insisted.
“And that’s why I wondered. In my experience, women sunbathing on a yacht tend to strip down to the bare minimum. You didn’t.”
Lauren shook her head. “Let me get this straight. Because you thought I looked alluring in a modest swimsuit, you had me pegged as a Latter-day Saint?”
“I wouldn’t put it quite like that. It was the modest design of the suit that gave me the clue,” he admitted. “And your clothes.”
“I think you’d better explain that one,’ suggested Lauren lightly. “I was dressed for outdoor activities.”
Jonas chuckled. “On a hot day like today, people tend to shed as many clothes as decency allows. You’d be more likely to see short shorts and halter-tops. Sometimes even less.”
He had a point, she conceded. Norwegians did like to feel the sun on their bodies. “Yes, I have seen them shed their clothes and the parks fill up with half-naked people.”
“We tend to worship the warm, sunny days,” Jonas acknowledged. “We get so few of them.”
‘Warm’ being the operative word, thought Lauren. It didn’t get hot in Norway, not the kind of heat she was accustomed to. Today’s high had been around seventy with light ocean breezes, pleasant, but hardly a heat wave. She had been perfectly comfortable in her jeans
and cap-sleeved cotton top.
“So, you concluded that because I wore a modest swimsuit, didn’t drink coffee, and didn’t strip half-naked even though it was warm, I must be LDS?”
“Sounds ridiculous, put like that,” he acknowledged. “And I might not have come to that conclusion had it not been for Jake. But when you mentioned church, I knew.”
“Does it bother you?”
“Does what bother me?”
“To find yourself related to a Latter-day Saint? My grandfather objected very strongly to his family attending that church. He had no interest in religion himself and wanted his family to fit into the Norwegian norm of being non-church-attending Lutherans. It caused a lot of conflict in the family.”
Jonas frowned and thought of his friend, Jake. He knew of no better man, yet his family had broken off all contact with him when he joined the Church of Jesus Christ. “I’m sorry your family had to deal with that,” he said quietly. “But speaking for myself, I have no prejudice against your church. In fact, some of the best people I know are members. But they live in the States. To my knowledge, I’ve never met a Norwegian member of your church.”
“There aren’t a lot of them, but you will meet some tomorrow.”
They both fell silent after that.
After a while, Lauren closed her eyes and allowed the soothing sound of the engine to lull her to sleep.
Sensing the change, Jonas turned and looked at her. Her face, relaxed in sleep, was deceptively young and incredibly sweet. He felt a distinct tug on his heart.
When Lauren’s Aunt Nina first contacted him about her niece, he assumed she was a woman in her late thirties or early forties, interested in learning about her Norwegian roots. Instead, she turned out to be a warm and delightful young woman who wanted to meet him because he was family. Jonas thought of their first meeting and that warm, exuberant hug. She would have been shocked to learn how starved he was for a hug like that and how much her immediate acceptance of him as family meant to him.
Since the death of his grandfather, his professional life had followed the path laid out for him years before. He accepted that life and had met its many challenges with astonishing success. But in his personal life, experience had taught him to be wary. The spontaneous hug from Lauren brought out feelings in him that had lain dormant far too long.
Lauren still knew very little about him. They needed more time together, time he was hard pressed to find at the moment. He was leaving for Lisbon and an international conference on Wednesday. Canceling was not an option, and by the time he returned, Lauren would be gone. He sighed deeply. He had escorted many women over the years, but none had captured his heart, and none had touched him as Lauren had. He had waited a long time to meet someone like her. Now that he had, he could be patient. He would give her all the time she needed, but one thing he could not do—he could not let her slip out of his life.
Thoughts of her stayed with him until he pulled into the small parking area by Jon and Bente Jansen’s home. Cutting the engine, he turned and looked at her. She was still sleeping peacefully. Touching her shoulder, he said in a soft voice, “Lauren, you’re home.”
When he got no response, he said again, “Come on, Lauren, wake up. You’re home.”
“Hmm?” Her eyes opened slowly as she gave herself time to adjust to her surroundings. When she recognized Jonas’ face hovering above her own, her mouth curved. “I fell asleep,” she announced sleepily. “I guess I’m still dealing with jet lag.”
“You awake enough to make it up to the house?”
She yawned delicately. “I think so.”
Jonas walked around to her side and helped her out of the car, then guided her up the wide flagstone steps that led to the house.
By the front door, she turned to face him. “Thank you for today. I’ll remember it always.” Her arms came around him in a quick hug.
Touched by her words, he responded in kind then, pulling away, caught her warm, expressive eyes looking directly into his. He stood transfixed as he watched her eyes drop to his mouth before slowly making their journey back to his eyes.
Never had anyone spoken so little and said so much, he thought, stunned to realize Lauren felt the same pull of attraction he did and was letting him know in the sweetest possible way. Tentatively, he brushed his lips over hers, then lifting his head said softly, “Okay?”
At her almost imperceptible nod, he said quietly, “Lauren,” and pulled her back into his arms.
She had come home! That was all Lauren could think of as Jonas held her against his rapidly beating heart. At last, and when she least expected it, she had found the place where she belonged.
When Jonas finally lifted his head, he was touched to see moisture in her eyes and one lone teardrop spilling over. “Hey, what’s this?” He gently brushed the tear away with the tip of his finger and placed a whisper of a kiss where moisture still lingered.
“Jonas.” Her breath was shaky. “I think I am in trouble.”
He gently framed her face and looked into her wonderfully expressive eyes. They were overflowing with emotion. A feathery kiss on her forehead brought out a trembling smile, and in a soothing voice filled with gentle humor, he replied. “I think we both are. This wasn’t part of the plan, was it?”
She shook her head and took another trembling breath. “I guess we can forget it happened.”
With an eloquent smile, he said, “If that’s what you want,” knowing beyond any doubt that would never happen.
“Can we still be friends?” Lauren asked in a whisper-soft voice.
“Always,” he promised.
She stepped reluctantly away. “I should probably go inside.”
His smile held regret. “Probably.”
He was thirty-five years old. At barely twenty-six and as the only grandchild and heir of the celebrated Armand Juul, Jonas had inherited his grandfather’s wealth, his business interests, the island house, the yacht, and a large villa outside the city. Overnight, to his horror, he had become fodder for his country’s tabloids, sought after and courted, his privacy shot to pieces. For a long time, he had hoped to find that special someone to share his life, someone not influenced by his name and his wealth. Too often he had been disappointed. And then Lauren came hurling into his arms. With her enchanting face, warmth, and intelligence she had, without guile, taken his heart by storm. And now she saw trouble ahead because she had asked to be kissed. By him. And his kiss had touched her.
“Come here, Lauren,” he said softly and reached for her again.
She moved willingly into his embrace. They stood like that for a long time, just holding each other, drawing comfort from one another.
Then, almost inaudibly, she again heard, “You okay?”
She nodded and loosened her hold on him. “I am now.”
He guided her up the step to the front door, and as he opened it, caressed her cheek and whispered softly, “I’ll be here at ten-fifteen. Get some sleep.” Then he gave her a gentle push inside and closed the door behind her.
“I’m in here, Lauren,” Bente Jansen called from the living room when she heard the front door open and close. Waiting up wasn’t something she normally did. Lauren was a grown woman. But then Bente had never known her to go off for the day with a man she barely knew, distantly related or otherwise.
She’d heard the car pull up and watched from the window as they approached the house. She had expected Jonas to come in and say hello, and when she didn’t hear voices in the hall, she wondered if something had gone wrong. But a soft smile touched Lauren’s lips as she entered the living room, and her eyes held a dreamy look.
“Did you have a good time?” Bente asked without prying. “You were so lucky with the weather.”
“I had a wonderful time,” Lauren replied as she walked toward her favorite chair and curled up in it.
“
I’m glad. It’s good to be able to connect with family.”
“Yes, it is. He brought me to the most perfect place—an island not far from the mainland with a charming old house on it.” Lauren’s eyes turned soft. “I fell in love with the island. And the house. And his boat. And . . .” She paused, looked at Bente and said softly, “I fell in love with Jonas.”
Bente’s smile turned guarded. “All that in one day?” she asked gently.
Bente knew of Jonas Juul, of course—most people did. He was a highly respected and much-admired businessman. But he kept a low profile and did not flaunt his wealth, so little was known about his private life. Discovering he was a distant cousin of Lauren’s had come as quite a shock to the family.
She was not at all surprised that Lauren was drawn to the attractive young man except for one thing: Lauren was a Latter-day Saint, and though she’d certainly had opportunities, did not become romantically involved with men not of her faith. But there was a softness to her features tonight and a light in her eyes.
Lauren’s lips curved gently. She could still feel the touch of Jonas’ lips on her own, and though it had been a very gentle kiss, she knew she would never forget it. “It wasn’t something I planned or imagined could happen, but . . .” She sighed. What had happened between them was too private to talk about, so she said simply, “We’ve become good friends.”
“Friendships are important,” Bente said approvingly and though she was curious about the day’s events, only added, “I am glad you had the chance to get to know him. It’s not often we discover long-lost relations.”
She put down the book she had been reading and stood up. “Well, now that you are safely home, I’ll say goodnight.”
“Bente.” Lauren looked at her friend—her mother’s dear friend. “Thank you for waiting up. I’m sorry I worried you by going off with Jonas so soon after meeting him, but my instincts about him were right. He is a good man.” She stood up and covered a yawn. “I’ll lock up and turn out the lights,” she offered, then added, “By the way, he is picking me up for church tomorrow, so I won’t need your car.”