“Depends on the person you ask. My assistants think I’m a slave driver.”
“Hmm. Ice King.”
“Pardon me?”
“That’s my first impression of you.”
“Ice King?”
“When you enter the room, everything freezes. But now that I’m getting to know you, I think you’re a kitty cat.”
“I take it that means I’m cute and adorable?”
She grinned.
He studied her. “I bet you’re tired.”
“Huh? Yes, I am. There was so much going on today.”
“Shall we retire for the night?”
“Can we? I really want to take a shower. No, a bath. A long hot bath.”
“Naturally.” Sven get up from his chair. “I had Sebastian collect your bags and deliver them to our room.” He opened one door near the bookcase and breezed in.
Annalise stopped in her tracks. Wait, did he said “our room?” She hurried after him.
The room clearly belonged to Sven. It was spacious, drenched in luxury. The décor was masculine, modern and slick. Dark walls paired with monochromatic draperies and beddings. Expensive-looking furniture. Marble flooring with sable-colored rugs. Abstract paintings graced one wall, above a gas fireplace. She found her suitcases and bags had been placed near a tall dresser.
“Please don’t tell me we’re sharing a room,” Annalise said.
“Is that a problem?” Sven’s tone was pure innocence.
“You’re taking this too far!”
His shoulders shook with silent laughter.
“Sven, I understand you want to make our marriage look as genuine as possible, but this?” Annalise brandished her hands in exasperation. “I can’t do this. I just met you this morning. Besides, there’s a lot of married folks that don’t even share a bed.”
“Anna, it is my understanding that now we’re married, you’ll be my only sexual partner from now on.”
“I, what-what?”
“Are you planning on having affairs with other men behind my back?”
“I wasn’t planning on sleeping with anyone.”
Sven cocked his head aside. His eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”
“No way. I’ve had a boyfriend before. We did stuff. But that’s none of your business.”
“Then you shouldn’t be so immature about what two adults do in the bedroom. When I married you, I pledged my fidelity to you. You and you only. I won’t have sexual relationships with other women. I expect you to do the same. No. I insist you do the same.”
“Why do we have to have sex at all? The girls at the diner said that’s the point of being married. Once you wear his ring, you stop having sex with him.”
Sven burst out in laughter. “I must assume you’re being sarcastic.”
“Whatever.” She huffed. “But I’m not sharing a bed with you.”
“Are you sure you’re not a virgin?”
“No!” Her face went hot.
“You’re acting like one.”
“Am I?” She thought of her first and only boyfriend in high school, Cole. They both didn’t know what they were doing. Cole insisted on putting his thing inside her, and it hurt like hell. She ended up crying, making Cole frustrated. Their sex attempt failed miserably. She started avoiding him, and Cole promptly dumped her afterward. “I don’t think I like sex. Sex is overrated.”
“Is that so? Care to explain?”
“No. Sven, I’ve thought of you as a great guy up until now. You’re handsome, rich, and very smart, but you’re also pervy. I’ll be sleeping in the other room. Good night.” Annalise patted his shoulder and strode to the door. She yanked it open and went out.
She looked around. Huh? This wasn’t the study room. His place had so many doors and rooms that she couldn’t remember the way out.
“Anna, that’s the closet,” Sven called out.
She quickly retracted her step and went to a different door.
“That’s the bathroom.”
Aww! What was this? A maze? She covered her ears. “Whatever. I like it here.”
Three
A week had passed since Sven brought Annalise to his home. Her presence was a ray of sunshine. He looked forward to starting his day with her, seeing her pretty smile and discovering new things about her. One thing that baffled him the most was how gullible and naïve she was. Seymour had told him that his sister was a mother hen in rearing her children. Her husband was a military man.Annalise and Robert had grown up sheltered. Her innocence never ceased to amaze him. It seemed she only saw the good in people. Sven often wondered how she’d spent twenty years of her life unscathed. She was like a lamb in a world full of wolves. The way she’d stayed pure was beyond him. Now he understood why Seymour had arranged for him to marry his niece. Without his protection, Annalise wouldn’t last a day in this cutthroat business.
After making a few arrangements, Annalise’s little brother was finally scheduled to be moved into a new facility. Sven was present in the room when the medical staff prepared Robert Conrad for the transport. Annalise clung to Sven.
“I’ve always wondered if he could hear me,” she whispered, “or understand me for that matter. Viehl has asked me numerous times to let him go. I couldn’t. Viehl said Robby might not look like it, but it was his body that was suffering. He wouldn’t be alive without the breathing machine or the feeding tube. Even if by some miracle Robby wakes, he would be forever confined to a wheelchair and needing assistance in every way. She often asked if that’s what Robby would have wanted.” Annalise paused. “I wouldn’t know if that was what Robby would have wanted. I’m just scared. I’m scared to be alone. Do you think I’m selfish to not let Robby go just because I don’t want to be alone?”
Sven gritted his teeth. “Viehl said those things to you?”
A faint nod. “In a way, I do understand her. Keeping Robby alive cost a lot of money. And most of it was subsidized by the government and taxpayers. And if I let Robby go, the subsidy money can be put to better use to help those who really deserve it.”
“Stop right there.” Sven lowered his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Any loving sister would fight for her brother like you do. I’d do the same thing if I had a sibling.”
Annalise looked up. Her eyes glazed with tears. “I’m not selfish?”
“Definitely not. You’re the best sister Robby could ask for.. Once your brother is in the new facility, we can put this ugly business behind us.” And in the meantime, he vowed to have a long talk with the hospital administrator Emma Viehl about courtesy and professionalism.
She wiped her eyes. “Thank you. I feel much better.”
“I promise I’ll use all my connections to have your brother cared for by the best physicians available.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“I’ll do anything for you. You’re my wife, and you’re precious to me.”
Her face turned red. She quickly looked away. “Wow. You really take this marriage thing seriously.”
Sven wished she’d understand that he didn’t plan to let her go, right from the moment they both signed that legal document that bound them as husband and wife. He sighed inwardly. Perhaps this kind of thing took time. He never had problems getting women to fall in love with him before. Annalise was different. She was a challenge he didn’t intend to lose.
Things started to settle down once Annalise’s brother was moved to Sloan-Kettering. Annalise seemed happier and more content. She visited her brother in the new hospital every other day. When she wasn’t with Jenna Smith, Sven started familiarizing her with the business world. By the end of the week, he took her to Dune Industry to see Seymour’s office. The people in there had been itching to see Seymour’s successor. If there was unrest percolating behind the scenes, Sven didn’t see it. Not yet. He had some spies planted in Dune Industry when Seymour Dune fell ill. Sven was sure among all people, Cécile Mason was cooking up some insidious plan to thwart Seymo
ur’s wish of installing Annalise as his replacement.
As per Seymour’s instruction, his office was left undisturbed. Sven had come in twice after Seymour’s death to collect important documents.
Once they were seated in the private conference room, Sven explained the history behind Dune Industry and the lifeblood of their trade. He could tell Annalise was overwhelmed with the massive information she’d digested over the last few days. He had her dossier, which was prepared by a private investigator. Annalise had been a straight-A student until the six grade—the year her father fell ill. The family moved from San Diego to Brooklyn, New York. From there her academic record plummeted. By high school, she was consistently at the bottom of her class. Since she was eleven, she had been taking on any part-time job she could find. Baby-sitting. Dog walking. Running errands for the elderly. By the age of sixteen, she started working at the grocery store. At eighteen, she added waitressing.
Sven admired her her hard work and dedication to help out her family, even if it meant sacrificing her youth.
“You know, your real name is hard to pronounce,” said Annalise. She had Seymour’s old journal in her hands. “Svaen—Svaening—“
“SvæiningR Torviksøn,” he corrected.
“That doesn’t sound like a Russian name at all.”
“Why do you think I’m Russian?”
“You’re not?”
“No. I’m Norsk. But I traveled with the Roma all across Russia from the time I was an infant.”
“Roma?”
“Most Americans call them gypsy. My parents were said to be Norwegian. I don’t remember them, since I was so young. They joined the caravans from Bergen. I was born in Petrozavodsk. During our journey I became an orphan. Then a year later, I met your uncle. I was running away from the Roma.”
“Why?”
“I think because I stole food or something. Or maybe the beatings. I was the only one who had light skin, and all the kids bullied me. Anyway, your uncle found me just when I was about to freeze to death. He saved me. Gave me food and shelter. Taught me and sent me to school. I owed him my life. Owed him where I am now.”
“I had no idea you had such a tough childhood. And here I thought I had a difficult life. And your name— SvæiningR, what does it mean?”
“It’s Old Norse of Sven, which means young lad.”
“Young lad? Interesting.” Annalise grinned.
Sven joined the grin. It was infectious. “But your uncle nicknamed me Skogkatt.”
“Skogkatt?”
“That means forest cat. I was a wild boy. I couldn’t sit still for long periods, and I was always into mischief.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“How about Torviksøn? What does it mean?”
“My father’s name is Torvik, and I’m the son of Torvik, so I was named Torviksøn. It’s an old Norsk patronymic naming tradition. When I became an American citizen, I updated the spelling and shortened my name to Sven Torvik. It’s easier to pronounce and write in legal documents. I should have changed it into Steve to sound more mainstream.”
“Nah, Sven is way cooler. I wish I had an exotic-sounding name too. Annalise is so boring.”
“I must disagree with you. Annalise is a very pretty name. It’s Latin.”
“Seriously?”
“It means Graced with God’s Bounty.”
Annalise snorted. “The only thing I was graced with is my girth. I wish I was slimmer. They stop making cool looking clothes at size fourteen.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you. You are perfect the way you are.”
“So you like fat chicks?”
Let’s see. I like my woman healthy, low maintenance, adventurous eaters and festively curvy with a natural E-cup chest…” He raked his gaze on her. Yes, that’s about right.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been snooping at my lingerie drawers.”
“It is perfectly normal for a husband to know his wife’s measurements.”
“Pervy.”
He smiled.
“Anyway, I’ve always wondered if Uncle Seymour ever adopted you. You said you were his protégé. It makes more sense that he’d chose you as his successor.”
“It was his plan at the beginning, until we had a dispute.”
“Dispute? Why?”
“Let’s just say we had ideological differences, which lead me into resigning from my position in Dune Industry and starting my own company.”
“Were you on speaking term with Uncle Seymour?”
“Yes, of course. This dispute didn’t affect our personal relationship. Though I’ve always thought this arranged marriage was one of his tactics to pull me back into Dune Industry. He always wanted me to pick up where he had left.”
Annalise went silent for a moment. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for? If it wasn’t because of your uncle, I wouldn’t have met you.”
“So, you like this marriage?”
“I do. I enjoy myself as a married man.” Sven relaxed in his chair. “You said your uncle wasn’t on speaking term with your mother?”
“Nope. My parents always thought Uncle Seymour was odd.”
“Odd? How?”
“Well, my mom said Uncle Seymour hadn’t been fair with the cut from Grandma Mazur’s inheritance. He took a big chunk and spent it traveling around the world. But my dad said that Uncle Seymour was off after he returned from Russia. He came back with a pretty blond boy, and their relationship was unnatural. Other aunts and uncles said Uncle Seymour was a little pedo. I remembered Dad kept saying that boy was so pretty, it was unearthly. And the way he was dressed in frilly white shirts like a little loliboy…” Annalise words trailed off when she saw him scowl. “Oh my God, don’t tell me that blond boy was you?”
Sven wanted to roll his eyes. “Yes, that blond boy was me.”
“Oops. Awkward. I’m sorry. So what happened?”
“Your uncle raised me as his own son, and there was nothing pedo about it.”
“I mean, what happened to your blond hair?”
“It got dark as I grew older. Why does it matter?”
“I was curious. My parents had always said that the blond boy was so pretty he looked like a doll. Do you have a picture of when you were a kid?”
Sven massaged his temples. “I swear, Annalise. Sometimes I wonder if your innocence is too good to be true…”
She waved him dismissively. “I’m not innocent. I’ve worked at a diner. People told dirty jokes all the times. I still know a few.”
“Oh yeah? Tell me one.”
“I’m not going to tell you.” Annalise rolled her eyes. “When we were growing up, we weren’t allowed to tell dirty jokes in the house. Or my dad would spank me with a hair brush.”
Sven inhaled sharply through his clenched teeth. “I think I want to spank your butt with a hair brush too. Maybe after I bathe you in the shower with your clothes fully on. Then I’ll blindfold you with a silk scarf and tie you to a bed…”
“Wow. I didn’t know you were so strict, Sven. My dad would just use a hairbrush. Though, sometimes, he used the belt on my brother when he was misbehaving.”
Sven groaned aloud. She was more naïve than he thought.
Annalise remained oblivious. “So Uncle Seymour never adopted you?”
“He did, but I didn’t take his last name. He said I should always remember where I was from and be proud of who I am.”
“That’s deep. Uncle Seymour sounds so wise and not pervy at all.”
“He wasn’t a perv.”
“Yeah, sure, loliboy.”
Annalise yelped when Sven tried to pull her into his lap. The conference door suddenly opened.
“I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?”
Sven’s mood turned sour. Cécile. “Do you ever knock?”
“I thought I did.”
The woman walked in uninvited. But again, she always had.
Cécile and Sven were the same
age; After Seymour adopted him, they had grown up together in Kiev and at one point were briefly lovers, until Sven couldn’t stand her anymore. Her father, Jacque Mason, was Seymour’s partner. They had both founded the company. Thirteen years ago, Jacque Mason opposed Seymour Dune and sold his shares, making the company public. It was a decision Seymour regretted to his grave.
Cécile scrutinized Annalise with her eyes. A smile of contempt blossomed. “You must be Annalise. Charming. Sven, I’ve been dying waiting for you to introduce me to your wife.”
His jaw twitched. “Your need is not on my priority list. If you’ll excuse us, Annalise and I have more matters to discuss.”
“You’re so cruel, Sven.”
She started draping herself over him, so Sven had to get up from his chair just to get away.
Annalise looked puzzled with the exchange.
“Ah, pardon us. Did he tell you we’re old friends?” Cécile said to Annalise. The tone suggested that they were more than that, but Annalise was impervious to innuendo.
“You two are friends?” Annalise seemed to welcome the insinuation gullibly. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms…”
“Cécile. Cécile Mason. Seymour Dune and my father were colleagues.”
“Sven has just told me about the company.”
“Getting a history lesson from him, I see.” Cécile’s gaze flickered at Sven. “So, Annalise, a little birdie told me you worked as a waitress before this?”
“I did. At a diner near Flushing. Named Mama Sam’s. We made the best chicken fried steak in the county.”
Cécile laughed derisively. “Is that so?”
Sven wanted to bash his head on the bookshelves. He had dreaded this moment. He wanted to delay the meeting of these two women for as long as possible. Cécile was one of the reasons Seymour went to his early grave.
Cécile wanted to take over Dune Industry ever since she joined the company. She opposed the fact that her father’s name wasn’t included in the company name in the first place. Jacque Mason might have contributed money in founding Dune Industry, but it was Seymour Dune who made it big. The company has used eighty percent of his technology to be one of the world’s economic titans.
Her path was wide open when Sven stepped down and started his own firm. Having her father as one of the founders wasn’t enough for her. She wanted a solid ownership. She convinced her father to sell his shares to a group of private investors, and then influenced the board of directors to go public. Each year, Seymour Dune’s influence was crushed further into the corner. When Seymour became gravely ill, she thought she’d won the battle. But she didn’t anticipate that Seymour would appoint his niece as his successor.
Her Tiger Billionaire Page 3
