She smiled at him. “Your mom and dad must be so proud to have such tremendously successful children. Not every parent can brag about having a CEO, an Olympic gold medalist, an NHL star and a supermodel as offspring.”
“True.” Viggo slid her coat off her shoulders and tossed it onto an accent chair. “They’re proud of all of us.”
“As they should be.” She watched as he unfastened the belt at her waist. “What’re you doing?”
“Undressing you.”
“I see that.” Her lips twitched. “Why?”
He lifted her tunic sweater over her head and threw it on top of her discarded coat. “I thought we could take a hot shower before we eat.”
She crossed her arms over her exposed chest. “Together?”
Mischief swam into his eyes. “Of course.”
“Really, Viggo?” Her voice was breathy. “Shower sex? When your family could return at any moment?”
“They won’t catch us.” He reached behind her to unhook her bra, kissing her long and slow.
She felt herself melting against him, succumbing to the heady power of his sensual spell. “How do you know they won’t catch us?” she managed to whisper.
He slid her bra off and palmed her breasts, smiling when her nipples puckered tight. “Rikard promised to give me a heads-up when they’re on their way home.”
She grinned, unbuckling his belt. “So he’s, like, your partner in crime? Your wingman?”
“The original.” Viggo grinned as he peeled off her leggings and panties, crouching to pull them all the way off.
She stood there naked and shivering with anticipation as he straightened, then shoved his pants and briefs down and stepped out of them.
She licked her lips, staring down at his huge bobbing cock.
“Thought you said you weren’t starving.” His eyes gleamed as he fisted himself. “You look pretty ravenous to me.”
She shot him a dark glare, causing him to laugh as he grabbed his phone and then lifted her into his arms. She’d barely wrapped her legs around his waist before he was carrying her out of the room and down the hall.
Grinning into her eyes, he taunted, “Now what were you saying about me not getting any action while we’re here?”
“I’ll make an exception just this once,” she grumbled. “So make it good.”
As if shower sex with him could ever be bad.
* * *
She awoke the next morning in her favorite position, cradled in his arms with her backside tucked against his groin as he spooned her.
Could there be a more perfect way to start the day?
A lazy smile curved her lips as pale sunlight streamed through the bedroom windows, warming her face. She could hear voices downstairs, cheerful banter and laughter blending with the muffled clatter of pots and pans. The sounds were as inviting as the aroma of hot coffee wafting through the house.
The bed was so warm and comfy, and the protective heat of Viggo’s body felt like pure heaven. She wasn’t ready to get up yet, but good manners dictated she should go downstairs and offer to help with breakfast.
As if anticipating her train of thought, Viggo tightened his arm around her waist and rumbled, “Stay right where you are.”
She grinned. “I didn’t even make a sound. How’d you know I was awake?”
“I always know when you’re awake,” he murmured against the back of her neck. “I know your body like my own.”
A shiver of pleasure ran through her.
Sighing contentedly, she snuggled even closer to him, smiling when he made a sound low in his throat and slid his hand under her snug Rebels T-shirt. He stroked the warm skin of her stomach, sending ripples of sensation through her body.
When his hand dipped below the waistband of her panties, her insides tightened and her breath quickened.
“Viggo...” She felt his heavy erection thickening against her ass and grinned weakly. “Down, boy.”
“Too late.” He sat up and rolled her onto her back.
She stared up at him as he levered over her, making a place for himself between her legs. He was so sexy, all bulging muscles and bedroom eyes and hard cock. “You are really pushing it.”
“Not yet,” he said wolfishly. “Let me get you nice and wet first.”
She laughed at the dirty innuendo. “Dude, we are so not doing this right now.”
He nuzzled her neck. “Why not?”
“Seriously? Your whole family is downstairs!”
“And?” He rocked against her crotch with shallow thrusts.
She bit back a moan. “Viggo—”
There was a loud knock on the door followed by a singsong voice calling out, “Good morning! Are you two up?”
“Yeah, we’re up!” Scarlett called back breathlessly.
Viggo scowled at the interruption. “Go away, Svea.”
Scarlett took extra careful note of the way he’d pronounced her name so she wouldn’t butcher it. Svay-ahh.
“Mamma wanted me to tell you guys that breakfast will be ready soon,” Svea said through the door.
“Fine,” Viggo growled. “Now get lost.”
Scarlett laughed. “He didn’t mean that, Svea!”
“Uh, yes I did.”
“I know you did.” There was laughter in his sister’s voice. “Are you guys decent? Can I come in?”
“Sure!” Scarlett said.
“No!” Viggo barked at the same time.
The door burst open. “Rise and shine, lovebirds!”
Scarlett saw a blur of tousled blond hair and laughing blue eyes before Svea dove across the foot of the bed.
“Vad i helvete?” Viggo rolled off Scarlett and leaned back on his elbows to glare at his sister. “Get out!”
The Teutonic blonde giggled impishly and held up her phone to snap a group selfie.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Viggo demanded.
“Taking a picture with my grumpy big brother and his awesome girlfriend. You don’t mind, do you, Scarlett?”
Scarlett grinned. “Um, no, I guess n—”
Svea beamed and snapped a photo using Snapchat’s cartoonish dog filter. “So cute!” she squealed. When she sat up on the bed, her blond hair spilled down her back like waves of silk. “Let’s do another one—the flower crown!”
“Hell no,” Viggo snapped.
Svea stuck her tongue out at him. It was hard to reconcile this silly, playful girl with the bikini-clad sex kitten currently fueling the lustful fantasies of men and boys around the world. Seriously. Svea’s Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover damn near broke the Internet.
She scooted up the bed, wedging herself between Scarlett and Viggo. “C’mon, Scarlett. It can be just you and me since Viggo’s being such a meanie.”
Scarlett laughed. “Okay. Give me a sec.” She sat up and wiped her eyes to remove any crust, then quickly smoothed down her mussed hair. She’d forgotten to pack her bonnet, so she’d have to see about buying a satin scarf or something. Where was a beauty supply store when a black chick needed one?
Svea grinned at her. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
Svea put her cheek next to Scarlett’s and took another Snapchat selfie with the flower crown filter. She showed the pic to Scarlett and gushed, “We look so pretty!”
Scarlett grinned wryly. “Well, I mean, you are a supermodel.”
Svea laughed and waved her off, then added a caption to her pic and shared it with her gazillion followers.
Viggo shot her a pointed glare. “If you’re done taking selfies—”
“Oops! Sorry!” She scooched back down to the foot of the bed, flipped onto her stomach and grinned cheekily at Viggo. “Remember how I used to sneak in here on the weekends and wake you and Rikard super early?”
“How could I forget?” Viggo grumbled, lips twitching. “You were a real pain in the ass, Svea. The more things change...”
She laughed, blew him a kiss and then sighed. “I miss you, big brother.
I’m really glad you’re here. I mean, I’m sad that Farfar had a heart attack. But it’s good to have you home.”
Her words softened Viggo, coaxing a fond smile out of him. “Thanks, kiddo. It’s good to be home.”
The affectionate exchange warmed Scarlett’s heart.
Svea let out another sigh. “I wish I didn’t have to leave in a few days.”
“Where are you going?” Scarlett asked curiously.
“Spain. I’m doing a photo shoot for Vogue.”
Scarlett grinned. “Sounds exciting.”
“Sure.” Svea shrugged and forked a hand through her hair before a sudden twinkle lit her eyes. “Speaking of photo shoots, I can’t wait to see your spread in GQ. You and Viggo looked so hot in that picture they tweeted!”
Scarlett chuckled, glancing sideways at Viggo. “It was a…memorable experience.”
His eyes glinted. “That’s one way of putting it.”
Svea grinned at them. “You two are so adorable!”
“No more pictures,” Viggo warned when she picked up her phone.
She pouted.
“Svea plans to become a photographer when she retires from modeling,” Viggo humorously explained to Scarlett. “She wants to be the next Annie Leibovitz.”
“Really?” Scarlett grinned at Svea. “That’s awesome.”
“I want to photograph you,” Svea told her. “You have such gorgeous skin and features, your eyes are so expressive and your lips are to die for.” She grinned. “Viggo just gave me a fancy new camera for Christmas. Can I take some pictures of you before I leave?”
“Uh, sure. Why not?”
Svea gleefully clapped her hands together. Scarlett found her rather endearing. Not quite what she’d been expecting from a size two Swedish supermodel.
“How old are you, Scarlett?” she asked.
“Twenty-four.”
“I knew it—we are close in age! I’m twenty-two!” Svea beamed excitedly. “We’re gonna be such good friends!”
Scarlett laughed, thoroughly charmed.
“I smell cinnamon.” Viggo sniffed the air, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Is Freya making cinnamon buns?”
“Ja.” Svea smiled. “She knew you would want some right away. And she wanted Scarlett to try them, too.”
Viggo’s grin broadened. “God, it’s good to be home.”
Scarlett and Svea laughed.
“We never have pastries with breakfast,” Svea explained to Scarlett. “But Freya made a special exception for you and Viggo.”
“I appreciate that,” Scarlett said warmly. “I didn’t get to have any cinnamon buns the last time I came to Stockholm, and I know how much Viggo loves them.”
“Freya’s are the best,” Svea asserted. “They’re better than anything you could find in a bakery.”
“Definitely,” Viggo agreed. “Anyway, Svea, I gotta take a leak.”
“So? What’re you telling me for?”
He gave her a pointed look. “I have to get out of bed and I’m not wearing any shorts. Unless you wanna get an eyeful of—”
“Ewww!” Svea jumped up and ran squealing from the room as Viggo laughed. As she headed back downstairs, she could be heard playfully tattling, “Mamma, Viggo has a girl in his room!”
Scarlett burst out laughing.
“You see what I had to put up with,” Viggo grumbled jokingly.
She grinned. “Luckily for me, I didn’t have any younger siblings. I was the bratty tattletale.”
He grinned. “No wonder you two are getting along so well.”
Scarlett laughed again. “That could be it.”
He leaned over and nipped her shoulder. “We’ll finish this later.”
“You wish.” She grinned and hopped out of bed before he could grab her.
After brushing their teeth and washing up, they followed the tantalizing scent of cinnamon down to the kitchen where Viggo’s mother, Freya and Astrid were bustling about finishing breakfast.
They greeted the newcomers with cheery smiles. “God morgon.”
“Good morning,” Viggo and Scarlett chorused.
“Did you sleep well?” Hedda asked.
“Absolutely,” they said in unison.
The Sandström women laughed.
“Listen to you two,” Freya teased. “Do you finish each other’s sentences, too?”
Viggo and Scarlett shared a grin. “Sometimes.”
This drew more laughter.
Hedda poured them coffee and motioned for them to sit at the butcher block center island. “Breakfast is almost ready. Your father’s getting dressed for work, Leif’s on a business call and Rikard’s on his way.”
The kitchen was as beautiful as the rest of the house. It was large and modern with white walls, white tile backsplash, tall white cabinets and gray marble countertops. It looked like something out of an interior decorating magazine. The use of so much white should have made the room appear sterile and uninviting, but it was the complete opposite. Scarlett could totally see herself rolling up her sleeves and cooking right alongside Viggo’s mother and sisters.
Admiring the décor, she took a sip of her coffee and tried not to grimace. Swedes liked their coffee very strong.
Viggo’s mom gave her a knowing smile. “Cream and sugar?”
“Yes, please,” Scarlett said sheepishly.
Viggo bumped her shoulder with his and winked. “Wimp.”
She laughed.
His father walked into the kitchen, greeted everyone warmly and accepted a steaming cup of coffee from his wife. He was wearing an expensively cut navy suit with those thick black frames that accentuated his chiseled bone structure. Talk about a silver fox.
Viggo was on his phone checking hockey scores and watching highlights from last night’s game. The Rebels had pulled out a win against Vancouver, so he was relieved but anxious to return home and jump back into battle.
As Scarlett sipped her sweetened coffee, Leif and Svea entered the room arguing. Leif’s hair was combed back from his breathtaking face, and he was dressed for the office. Holy crap. It should be illegal how well these Sandström men wore suits.
Svea was saying, “You don’t see me lecturing Rikard and Viggo for posing shirtless on magazine covers.”
“That’s different,” Leif countered.
“How so?” Svea demanded.
Viggo glanced up from his phone. “We don’t have breasts.”
“Seriously?” Svea and Scarlett sputtered in unison.
Viggo’s eyes twinkled at Scarlett. “Stay out of this.”
“Why should she?” Svea turned to Scarlett, hand on her hip. “You see how they try to silence women?”
“I know,” Scarlett agreed. “It’s pathetic.”
Leif gave a deep, rumbling laugh. “No one’s trying to silence either of you. All we’re saying is that it’s unnerving to think of strange men fantasizing about our baby sister.”
“But it’s okay for women to fantasize about you?” Svea challenged. “Do you know the kinds of things my friends say about you, Rikard and Viggo?”
A spark of masculine interest lit Leif’s eyes. “What do they say?”
“Indeed.” Viggo grinned. “Do tell.”
When Scarlett punched his arm, he threw back his head and laughed. The contagious sound made his mother, Freya and Astrid glance up from their tasks and smile.
Svea wasn’t amused. “That’s right. Derail the conversation by making jokes.”
Scarlett snorted. “Typical.”
Leif gave her a look of appreciative indulgence. “Hon är mycket vackert,” he drawled to Viggo. “Så vad gor hon med dig?”
When Viggo grinned, Scarlett divided a suspicious glance between the two brothers. “What did he say?”
Svea made an exasperated noise. “He said you’re very beautiful and he asked what you’re doing with Viggo.”
“Oh.” This took some of the starch out of Scarlett’s spine. She felt her lips twitch, wanting to smi
le.
Leif drank his coffee, his gray eyes glinting at her over the rim of the cup.
“Don’t fall for it, Scarlett,” Svea warned. “Flattery is another derailment tactic.”
“You’re right.” Scarlett gave Leif the sternest look she could muster.
He let out another one of those deep, sexy laughs.
She and Svea looked at each other and rolled their eyes in solidarity.
Viggo grinned at Leif. “You just had to get her started this morning, didn’t you? And now she has an accomplice.”
“I know.” Leif playfully ruffled his sister’s hair. “I’m all for celebrating gender equality, Svea, but it’s too early for one of your feminist rants.”
“Feminist rants?” Svea turned to their father in exasperation. “Are you hearing this, Pappa?”
“I am,” he said from behind his newspaper.
“How did such a brilliant, enlightened man raise such chauvinist pigs?”
“Now, now, Svea,” Hedda interjected, taking umbrage. “Don’t be so hard on your brothers. You know they love you. They just want to protect your virtue.”
Svea rolled her eyes. “What patriarchal rubbish. My virtue doesn’t need protecting.”
Ludvig chuckled indulgently as he lowered his newspaper to smile at his daughter. “I understand where you’re coming from.”
“C’mon, Pappa,” Leif guffawed. “Are you telling us that you’re happy with Svea’s swimsuit cover?”
Ludvig cleared his throat. “I’m very proud of your sister for landing the cover of such a popular magazine,” he said diplomatically.
Leif and Viggo looked amused. “But?”
“I might have been happier if she’d worn a less, ah, revealing swimsuit. Such as a one-piece.” He lifted his coffee cup to his mouth and smiled through the rising steam. “A muumuu could have worked as well.”
Everyone burst out laughing. Even Svea.
Rikard appeared in the doorway, looking around in amusement. “What’d I miss?”
More laughter broke out.
With a dramatic flourish, Freya removed a pan of cinnamon buns from the oven and set them on a rack. The heavenly aroma saturated the kitchen, making Scarlett’s mouth water as she stared at the hot buns speckled with pearl sugar.
The Swede Page 64
