by Donna Fasano
Instead, he was feeling a surge of primitive male instincts. "No?”
She gave her head a firm shake. "No.”
He beat back the rising hormones, and shrugged. "In that case, it’s just as well I don't know what you're talking about. Glass, please. That one.”
She studied him for a moment, then handed him her white wine glass. "So what comes next, Leif?”
He leaned forward, lowered his voice to a deep rumble, and said, "Something big and horny, and very wild.”
She blinked, and her shapely lips parted a fraction.
He winked. "The main course is moose.”
She choked out a laugh of surprise, then tipped back her head and belly-laughed.
And for the first time in years, so did he.
Chapter 16
"How did you like the moose meat?”
Joanne nodded at Leif over the rim of her coffee cup. "It was scrumptious."
She set the cup down on its delicate porcelain saucer, then leaned back in her chair. The final two glasses had been for arrack punsch with dessert, and brandy with coffee. She was feeling more than mellow. She’d had more to drink than she ever had in one sitting, but thankfully, it had been spread out over a long period of time.
On the other hand, she was so stuffed she was about to burst. "I can't believe we've been sitting here eating for over four hours.”
He leaned back, too, looking replete. "Hard to find anyone interesting enough to spend that amount of time with.”
She tilted her head. "Why, Leif, I believe that was a compliment.”
With great concentration, he swirled his brandy snifter between his palms. "Just the facts, ma'am.”
The food had been superb, the mood pleasant and low-key...with a soft hum of sexual awareness to spice it up. By far, the best date she’d ever had in her life.
If that’s what this was. Who knew? He hadn’t made a single pass at her the entire evening.
Which was good.
Right?
She tried to decide how she felt about the man seated across from her.
Attractive? Sure. Fun? You bet. Smart? Yep. Nice? Definitely. Sexy? As sin. Did she want to sleep with him? Oh, yeah. Would she? No way in hell.
She exhaled, glad that had been settled.
Yes, she was unbelievably attracted to this man, and admittedly, she was having a good time upsetting his composure with her flirty teasing. But she wasn’t about to get caught in her own trap. She was only in Sweden for a short time, and a quick tumble was just not her style.
Besides, there was that…something...about him. An indefinable something that should have her running for cover, not contemplating how far to take this flirtation. Leif didn't fit her usual mold when it came to men. He was strong, arrogant, rough around the edges. He was far too… male…for her to handle. There was no doubt in her mind, if she let herself fall for him, she wouldn't stand a chance.
No, thanks. This girl did not need that kind of heartache.
"Joanne?”
So, why was she finding it impossible to ignore the need she felt to arouse this dangerous man? To tempt him into doing sensual, arousing things to her? Things that felt really, really good.
Things she'd eventually regret.
“Joanne?”
She looked up and their gazes locked. Heat shimmered between them as he slowly raised his glass to skoal. She could swear sparks flew.
By now, she knew not to say a word, that their eyes would make the toast. Her hand trembled slightly as she lifted her glass to her lips.
For an endless moment, he held her entire body captive with his eyes. She was sure the tension flowing between them would shatter the delicate crystal goblet she held.
They drank.
She peeked her tongue out and swiped a drop of brandy from the bow of her lip.
His gaze darkened, following the movement. "Have I told you how pretty you look tonight?"
The heat from the brandy curled around the innermost part of her. Or was it his words that felt so warm inside her? “Thank you,” she whispered.
"Your name is very appropriate," he murmured. "Do you know what Fager means in Swedish?”
She shook her head, unable to make her body obey the simple command to speak. She bit her bottom lip.
His gaze lowered to her mouth, lifting a long moment later. "It means fair and lovely. A word Medieval knights used to describe their ladies.”
Her heart pounded, pumping a ribbon of flame through her veins. "What about Adel? What does your name mean?”
He smiled wryly. "Noble. It means noble.”
Regarding him from beneath her lashes, she was seized with a sudden recklessness. She threw all caution to the wind, putting her pounding heart on the line. "And will you be my noble knight tonight?”
Chapter 17
Leif tilted back in his chair, struggling to banish the image of him as her knight, carrying her off to his castle to have his wicked way with her.
Djävlar. He had to make her stop this infernal flirting. It was pure torture. He set his jaw. "You have no idea how noble I'll be tonight."
She smiled coyly.
He’d been proud of the way he'd kept his libido under strict control all evening. He was not going to seduce her, regardless of how alluring and sexy she looked, and he meant to stick by that decision. He was not interested, no matter how much she raised his blood pressure.
But that cute, flirtatious smile had his libido hitting its knees, begging him to reconsider.
Helvete.
He squirmed on his chair, his cock twitching at the melty-eyed way she was gazing at him. He forced himself to look at his watch. "You've had a really long day. I should probably let you get upstairs." Rising, he pulled out her chair for her, and walked her out of the dining room.
At the foot of the stairs, she turned to him. "Leif, I—”
"Thank you for having dinner with me,” he interrupted, not daring to hear what she might say next. If she invited him up, he didn’t think he had the willpower to walk away. Not the way he was feeling. “I haven't enjoyed myself this much in years."
Or wanted anyone this much.
He jammed his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t reach for her.
She hesitated, then gave him a soft smile. "Me, neither. Thanks." She started to go, then turned back again. "Look, I know it's none of my business, and you can tell me to go to hell if you want. But—” She swallowed, and gave him a searching look. “I just have to ask. Why has it been a while since a woman has touched you, Leif?”
He felt his jaw drop, and his heart twisted in his chest. He stared at her for a long moment before deciding to answer truthfully. "I haven't let any woman get close enough to touch me.”
"Oh. I see.”
He doubted it.
Because she was close enough.
He stood there, his hands buried in his damned pockets, silently praying she wouldn’t touch him.
Praying even harder she would.
As if reading his mind, she went up on her toes and brushed her lips tenderly over his cheek, her nose grazing his mustache.
He leaned closer, nearly undone by the gentle feel of her kiss, and by her lush woman's scent. He stroked his cheek softly against her temple. His fists clenched, itching to escape their cloth prisons.
"Good night," she whispered, turned, and ran up the stairs.
He stood frozen at the foot of the staircase, unable to draw a breath, his feet determinedly planted, and watched her retreat. At the top landing, she stopped and waved to him. When she disappeared around the corner, he slammed his eyelids shut and finally filled his starving lungs with a ragged breath.
He had kept his vow. He'd not so much as touched her. He hadn't kissed her back. And he certainly hadn't suggested any of the things that kept sneaking into his unruly imagination every time he’d looked at her.
Letting out the breath, he opened his eyes, and raked unsteady fingers through his hair. All in all, he had handled t
he evening very well.
He'd kept things warm and friendly, had even let her flirt mercilessly with him. He hadn't lost it once. Not even just now when she'd questioned him so intimately. And put her moist, sweet lips to his cheek.
He had given her no reason to think he wanted any more from her. Or needed any more from her.
Because he didn't.
Honest to God, he didn't.
"Well, it’s about damn time.” Vanja's voice startled him out of his tortured musings. “I thought the cleaning crew would have to mop up around you two."
He glanced at his watch. "The doors don't even close for another twenty minutes." He looked up and frowned defensively at her sly smile. “What?”
“Oh, nothing.”
"We had a very interesting conversation, that’s all.”
"I'm sure you did. For over four hours.”
Annoyance swirled through him. "Keeping tabs?”
She chortled. "Me, and everyone else in the place.”
“It's not what you think, V." He crossed his arms tightly and peered up the staircase. "There was just a lot to talk about, what with her grandfather, and all."
Vanja grinned. "Uh-huh. Frankly, the way you two were steaming up the windows I'm surprised you won't be joining us for breakfast.”
He spun to face her full-on, scowling. "You know how I feel about that subject."
Disappointment flitted across her features, and he put his hands on her shoulders. He knew she meant well.
"I'll admit, I like her,” he said. “Hell, I like her a whole lot. But I'm not looking for a woman in my life. You know that." He slipped an arm around his cousin and walked toward the front door. "Besides, she's a tourist. It would be unprofessional.”
Vanja snorted. "Bullshit. That's just a lame excuse.”
"She's leaving in a week.”
"So, ask her to stay awhile.”
The old feelings of hurt and rejection swamped over him, painfully reminding him of all the reasons he’d done the right thing tonight. "I tried that once. I'm not fool enough to make the same mistake twice.”
"You are a fool if you think all women are like your ex-wife,” Vanja returned.
He set his jaw. "You may be right. But I'm not ready to take the chance." He gave her a quick squeeze. "Thanks, V. I appreciate what you're trying to do. And I'll think about having breakfast some other morning, one of these days, if it'll make you happy.”
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Leif, I want it to make you happy, not me." She sighed. "Why do you have to be so ever-loving stubborn?”
He allowed himself a wry chuckle and put up his hands in defeat. "All right." He caved in to the unrelenting pressure of his cousin...and his own aching body. "All right. I tell you what. Tomorrow morning send her a single white rose from me. Sign the card, 'From your noble knight.'”
“Awesome.” Vanja gave him a big hug. "I just knew you were a romantic at heart.”
"No promises. It's just a damn flower.”
"Right. Got it.”
But as Vanja skipped off happily and he turned to head home, he had the uneasy feeling he'd just sealed his own noble fate.
Chapter 18
Trotting down the stairs from her room at lunchtime the next day, Joanne checked the clock. She’d slept in, then spent the morning organizing her thoughts and plans for the search, but there was still plenty of time for a quick cup of coffee before she met Leif.
Her noble knight.
Her heart sang, thinking of the rose that had been delivered to her door earlier. Despite last night's stonewall, he must like her—just a little?—to make such a romantic gesture.
She scanned the dining room, but instead of Leif, she spotted the American fisherman she’d met checking in yesterday. Bill McAndrew was sitting at a table for two next to the open windows. He smiled and waved, beckoning for her to join him.
She hesitated, completing her visual survey of the room before returning his wave and making her way over to his table. Silently, she chided herself for the stab of disappointment she felt that Leif was not there. After all, she had spent the better part of the evening with him. Not that she was interested in pursuing him. Despite the romantic gesture.
"Hey, Detroit. Join me.”
"Hi, Bill. Thanks."
She sank into the seat opposite. The smell of pickled herring wafted over from the next table, making her smile, and reminding her of how stuffed she still was from last night’s dinner. She’d even skipped breakfast.
"I only have a few minutes,” she told him. “I'm meeting someone."
Bill raised his dark eyebrows and cocked his head. "Mr. Warmth and Personality from yesterday?" A grin split his face at the disapproving but slightly amused look she gave him. "I can't imagine what you see in that guy.”
"First of all, it's none of your business Mr. McAndrew." Feeling oddly defensive, she adjusted the pleated skirt of the dress she’d chosen for the meeting with Eva Lundquist. "Second of all, Leif happens to have a very nice personality. And as for his warmth, well, personally, I think he’s pretty damn hot.” She gave him an impertinent grin.
Bill laced his fingers over the table and leaned his face close to hers. "Maybe in this climate." His eyes teased. "But you want really hot, you have to go south, where I'm from.”
Before she could come up with a suitably deflating response, she was rescued by Gunilla. “Hi, Joanne. What can I get you?”
She ordered coffee, and wondered why the waitress was acting so cool. She had to know last night’s dinner with Leif didn’t mean a thing to him. Therefore, Joanne could have coffee with anyone she chose to today, without having to feel guilty.
She brushed off her guilty feelings, and gave Bill a bright smile. "So, how's the fishing?”
"Not too good, so far." He tilted her a meaningful look. "Seem to be using the wrong kind of bait, or something.”
Seriously? Oh, pu-leeze. "Maybe you're fishing in the wrong waters," she suggested tactfully. "Even the most attractive lure won't work if there's nothing out there to catch.”
Good grief. Had she really just said that? She looked down at her cup. Maybe it was the water.
"Oh, there's something out there," he said, gazing at her wistfully. "I'm just afraid that beauty might already be hooked." The regret in his face almost reached his eyes. But not quite.
She made a face. "If I hear a single sentence containing the words 'fly' or 'rod', I'm leaving.”
Bill laughed out loud, but without a trace of defeat. "You drive a hard bargain, Detroit.”
She considered Bill as Gunilla swept over and poured her coffee. Something told her this was a man used to getting what he wanted. Which made her wonder... what, exactly, did he want with her? Someone to warm his bed between fishing trips?
Pass.
He lifted his cup and swung it toward the window. "So, what brings you to this neck of the woods? Come to see the midnight sun?”
"No. But it's a nice coincidence." She told him about coming to find her grandfather’s remains.
"Wow. Interesting. What was he doing way up here? You don’t generally think of Sweden as being part of the Cold War.”
She explained about Robert Grant’s mission to pick up a KGB defector, which fascinated Bill. She answered question after question, until he knew as much as she did. Finally, he seemed satisfied that there was nothing else she could tell him.
"Sorry to be so nosy, but the Cold World is a special interest of mine. I teach history at a small junior college.”
"Really? I hadn't pegged you for a teacher." Mildly astonished, she tried to remember why she'd thought he was in the foreign service.
"No? What did you have me doing instead?”
She lifted a hand and dropped it. "Oh, I don't know. Something more fast paced, with board rooms and high stakes. I have a hard time imagining you playing nursemaid to a bunch of kids just out of high school.”
A peculiar smile crept across his mouth. "I'm not sure whether to take th
at as a compliment or an insult.”
She gave him a noncommittal grin in return. "Actually, I'd fantasized you were a diplomat.”
The momentary shock on Bill's face didn't completely register, because just then, she spotted Leif coming through the dining room door. Her heart skipped a beat. Okay, several beats. But his smile dissolved into a cold marble mask when his gaze strayed across her table and collided with that of Bill McAndrew.
Her heart sank. Great. She’d seen that look on Leif’s face before. The first time he saw Bill.
Right before Leif had given her the brush-off and stalked away.
Chapter 19
After driving five minutes on the way to Eva Lundqvist’s house, it was clear to Joanne that Leif intended to keep this afternoon to strictly business. She wasn't sure if it was because of finding her in the restaurant with Bill, or if Leif just really wasn't interested in her in a personal way.
Maybe the white rose he'd sent hadn't meant anything, after all. Maybe that was just him being polite, thanking her for a nice evening.
She felt more than a pang of regret. Humming with awareness of his body so close to hers in the Landcruiser, taunted by the hint of the earthy spice of his cologne—the way she was feeling just confirmed that she was already much too attracted for her own good to the rugged man sitting next to her.
But she couldn’t help trying one last time. Just to be sure. "Thanks for the rose, Leif. It was beautiful.”
He grunted. “Vanja picked it out."
She swallowed a stab of hurt, despite her resolve not to care. "Well, it was sweet of you, anyway. And thank you for dinner last night. I really enjoyed it.”
"As much as you enjoyed lunch today?” The question was practically growled.
Okay, then. Bill, it was. The implications of that knowledge buzzed around in her head...alongside her indignation over his unwarranted scorn.
At her stony silence, he blew out a breath from between his teeth. "Sorry. None of my business.”
“That’s right,” she agreed coolly. “It isn’t.”
