“That’s the neighboring property, and it seems to be in use. Maybe we could reach out to the owners, see if they know anything about the address we have.”
Didrik nodded. “So it seems likely that the bottle was sent from there.”
He stared at the map—was it Sven who had sent the bottle? Had he been there—in that stone building?
“I recognize the name Château du Boda—it’s not one of the bigger producers, but I think it’s old,” Bente said. “We should definitely contact the owners.”
They flicked through all the books Bente had on Bordeaux and gathered as much information as they could about Médoc, and more specifically about the area around the address they’d found.
Many hours later, after the sun had begun to rise, casting a faint light through the closed curtains, they booked train tickets to Bordeaux.
“This little hotel looks super-cozy, and they’ve got rooms available!”
She reserved two single rooms. Didrik couldn’t help feeling disappointed, but realized it would have seemed odd if they’d booked a double. They weren’t a couple, and the receipt would be going to the production company.
The relaxed atmosphere between them was such a relief. Didrik had been nervous about this evening—how would Bente behave toward him? Would she be cold, like after their ... night, their wonderful night together? She had made it very clear how she wanted things to be—and now she had suggested another trip. She had clearly softened her posture toward him, and he’d even had the opportunity to look into those sparkling eyes again.
They were going to travel the week after next, getting back just in time for TV24’s annual summer party, which was on a Thursday evening. He guessed that she hadn’t been invited, as she’d only just started working for the company again.
“Listen, would you like to come to the summer party with me? My ticket is for two people.”
Her face lit up. “Oh yes—I’d love to!”
He immediately started wondering how they would go to the party—as colleagues?
She looked at hm in the gentle morning light. “Thanks for a great night’s work.”
He smiled. “No, thank you.” He met her gaze and saw her pupils dilate just before he leaned forward and kissed her.
She responded. At first it was a simple kiss, perfect and all they needed, as if they’d never done anything more. He felt as if the kiss had been in the air all night, and here was the proof. Her soft, smooth lips tasted of coffee, her tongue tasted sweet, and he thought he could also pick up the flavor of wine they had drunk—dried berries and cedarwood.
Then the kiss grew more urgent. He pulled her close, onto his lap so that she straddled him as he buried his hands in her hair, then slowly caressed the nape of her neck. He continued along her arms, her skin hot beneath his fingers. Down to the curve of her waist, then her hip, pushing up her skirt so that he could touch her bare thigh. She let out a quiet moan as he stroked the sensitive skin. He bit her lower lip, kissed her even harder, and pressed her close to his body.
She quickly unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. Kissed her way down his throat, her warm, light touch making him whimper.
For a second he stopped. Met her gaze. It was growing light outside, the first rays of the sun giving the room a bronze-colored glow. Her green eyes were almost luminous.
To think that sex could be like this. That he could feel this way about a woman. He couldn’t compare the attraction and desire he felt right now with anything he had experienced before. In one rapid movement, he picked her up and carried her over to her bed. Put her down, took off her dress, and looked at her lying there for a little while. When he saw her pale-pink underwear, it was all he could do not to rip it off her body right away.
Instead he slowly unhooked her bra, then stroked her breasts as he slipped off the shoulder straps and dropped it on the floor. Caressed the outside of her lacy panties before taking them off. Then he buried himself in her. He wanted to taste her, smell her. Wanted her wetness, her warmth to swallow him up.
He had longed for this moment.
He woke late in the morning—it was almost lunchtime. Unlike the previous occasion, Bente looked at him with affection when she woke up. She stretched her arms above her head like a contented cat and rolled over to face him. Ran her fingers over his chest and kissed him.
He grew hard straightaway. It didn’t matter that they’d had sex only a few hours earlier, he wanted Bente again, and again.
Afterward she pulled on a robe and went into the kitchen, but came back a minute or so later.
“The coffee is on, but I wanted to curl up with you while I’m waiting.”
He smiled, held her close, played with a long strand of her auburn hair.
“Just think, in two weeks we’ll be in Bordeaux,” he said, tucking the strand behind her ear.
“I know, it’s unreal.” She smiled up at him. “I’m so looking forward to going there with you.”
“Have you been before?”
