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“A helicopter?” she sounded incredulous.
“Nervous?”
“No—Yes… I’ve never travelled in one before. I’ve heard you can feel sick as a passenger.”
“I promise to fly sensibly. You’ll feel fine.”
“You? You’re going to fly it? Do you know how?”
He raised his brow, casting her a quizzical look.
“Okay, dumb question,” she granted. “How long have you been flying?”
Detecting the nervousness in her question, he turned and cupped her face between his palms. “Hey, trust me, I am an experienced pilot. You’ll be fine, I promise. I won’t allow anything to go wrong. This craft has been serviced weekly and checked before every flight, okay?”
He noted how her pupils dilated as she stared into his eyes and felt a rush of desire flood his system. She was certainly meant for him. All he needed to do was convince her of that. A big ask. Dropping his hands, he gestured to the passenger door. “Ready?” he asked.
She nodded, clutched his arm and levered herself up inside the aircraft.
Rolf lowered his head and circled beneath the still blades to the pilot’s side where he nimbly entered his favorite whirlybird.
After fitting Selene with earphones. He ran through the checks and warm up before taking them upwards.
Once airborne, Selene seemed to lose any fears she’d harbored. Looking about her, she exclaimed excitedly over the view. “If you’re planning on taking me to France for lunch, I’m not dressed for a Parisian restaurant.”
“No, you’re perfectly dressed for a lunch in Kinsale, Ireland,” he replied keeping his eyes on the sky.
“Wow…I’ve never been to Ireland before.”
He gave her a thumbs up. After that she sat back quietly, appearing content to observe the landmarks below.
* * *
“That was an amazing lunch. I’ve enjoyed today so much, thank you, Rolf. The coastal views from here are breathtaking.”
“You’re welcome. The pleasure’s been all mine… Now how about we finish off the meal with an Irish coffee? Not for me though, I’m driving.” He winked.
“No, I don’t think so, not if you can’t join me.”
“Oh, I’ll have an Irish coffee, just minus the Irish whiskey,” he quipped.
“Oh, go on then, I’ll join you, thanks.” She smiled, capitulating.
“Good. Please excuse me for just a moment.” He placed his dinner napkin on the table and made his way through to the kitchen, where he placed their coffee orders with his cousin, who, unbeknown to Selene, owned this remarkably situated and renowned seafood restaurant. Rolf wasn’t about to share that information with her, certainly not at this stage.
When he returned, she was gazing out at the sea view. “I can’t remember when I felt more relaxed,” she said looking up at him wistfully. “This place has a wonderful atmosphere.”
“I agree, it is special, which is why I wanted to bring you here,” he replied, placing her coffee in front of her before taking his seat.
“Hmm, it is lovely and although being beside the sea is relaxing, I find woodland and forests call to me…the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze and the verdant smell of moss and lichens, I don’t know how to explain it other than it feels like coming home when I’m surrounded by trees.”
“You paint such a poetic picture; I can almost smell the lushness and the pine. I happen to agree with you though, trees are magical living things,” he agreed.
Her grey eyes met his, lit with that strange opulence that echoed a siren call to his inner wolf. Moments passed before she shivered and looked away.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not at all. I felt strange, like a ghost just passed right through me.”
