She was intrigued. “So up here in the wilds, you can pitch a tent and camp under the stars without being yelled at or moved on?”

“Generally, yes.” He smiled. “Of all the questions you could have asked, I never would have anticipated that one. You don’t strike me as a tent kind of girl, Alix.”

“But then, you don’t know a single thing about me.”

His gaze flickered to hers. “I know a few things.”

She ignored that. “Where did you hike?”

“The first time I was here, I did the Kungsleden trail trek, the King’s Trail.” He told her about it, and for a few minutes she forgot that he was the last person she would have chosen to be with, absorbed by his descriptions of the Arctic landscape and his obvious passion for the place.

She leaned forward in her seat as the road curved its way through endless snow-covered forests of spruce and pine, mountains rising in the distance. “Good to know they don’t have a shortage of Christmas trees.” It was a frozen, snowy wonderland, and then suddenly the trees parted, the landscape opened up, and she sucked in a breath because there, right in front of her, was a lake, the surface glassy with ice. Nestled near the edge of the lake was a large cabin, painted traditional Swedish red. Falu Rödfärg. She knew that now. Snow coated the sloping roof, and lights glowed in the windows. Alix thought she’d never seen anywhere more charming and welcoming. She felt a pang, thinking of the times she and Christy had talked about Lapland, and wished her friend was here to see it with her. “This is it?”

“Looks like it.” He glanced at her. “Too rustic for you? Remote? You want to head back to the nearest town?”

He was teasing her, but it was easier to handle than his sympathy.

“What are the chances of you going for a stroll and being eaten by a wolf?”

He grinned. “Also remote. But I’m sure there are other accidents that might befall me.”

“One can but hope.” She opened the car door and caught her breath, unprepared for the biting cold. Immediately, she closed it again and tucked Holly’s thick coat more firmly round her. She felt her inexperience keenly. Was it too cold for such a young child? What other layers should she be wrapping her in? Presumably people who lived in the Arctic had children, so it must be possible to keep one alive in these temperatures.

“And here comes our host.” Apparently undaunted by the cold, Zac sprang from the car and walked to greet the woman who had stepped out of the lodge.

Aunt Robyn, presumably.

Alix didn’t know exactly what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this warm, friendly, normal-looking woman who approached with a welcoming smile on her face. She looked slim despite the layers of outdoor clothing, and moved with confidence. A curl of blond hair sneaked out from under the fur of her hood.