Ten Brides for Ten Hot Guys

by Donna Fasano

  They drove along the main road in silence. Eva lived just outside of town, and it wouldn't take them very long to get there. Thank God for small favors. The atmosphere in the Landcruiser was nearly choking her.

  She darted him a glare, pretending to examine the scenery. Talk about arrogant. How could she possibly be falling for such a self-centered, conceited…male?

  Wait. Falling for him?

  Not a chance.

  Sure, she was attracted to the man—hadn’t she just admitted that to herself? But there was no possible way she could be falling for him.

  All right, crushing on him, maybe.

  Crushing was okay. But she was only here for such a short time. What could possibly come of it?

  So, it was a good thing Leif was not interested in her. Better by far to concentrate on what she’d come to Sweden for.

  "When you spoke with Eva, did it sound like she might know something useful?" she asked, breaking the tense silence.

  Leif's white knuckles on the steering wheel relaxed a little. "She said she vaguely remembered something about a plane crash. But she thought maybe Bengt Hasselblad, who also lives in the village, might remember more." He looked thoughtful. "I had no idea, but she says he worked for the Intelligence Service for a while back then. He'll be at Eva’s today, too.”

  "I really appreciate you arranging all this,” Joanne said sincerely. “I know you have better things to do.”

  He lifted a shoulder. "The Swedish government doesn’t like people disappearing in our country. Even sixty years ago. It’s my duty to help.”

  "How thoughtful." She glared out the window. Definitely not the answer she’d wanted to hear. His duty. Screw that.

  "Besides—" He stole a glance at her and his expression softened. "I can't think of any other official business that would have me driving around with a beautiful woman in my car.”

  Nice try. She ignored the compliment. "Official business?”

  "I spoke with the State Department this morning, and they assigned me as your personal bureaucrat until we find your grandfather’s remains.”

  He’d discussed her with the Swedish State Department? She wasn’t sure how to take that news. Being on the government’s radar could make her search a lot easier. Or not...

  "What, exactly, does a personal bureaucrat do?” she asked suspiciously.

  "That depends. Escort you around, act as your interpreter, guide you into the wilderness if necessary.”

  Guide her into the wilderness?

  Her stomach clenched, and she stared at him. But despite everything, a spurt of unbidden arousal streaked through her at the thought of being alone with him out there in the vast forest, forced to share a tent…perhaps a sleeping bag…

  “I want to help you however I can,” he went on. “I know this area well, and I’m a ranking government official. I can open doors for you.”

  She nibbled on her lip, filled with conflicting thoughts and feelings.

  This was so not good. “What if I don’t want your help?”

  Perfectly calmly, he said, “Then I’ll just tie you up with red tape until you beg me for it.”

  At the blatant double meaning, her eyes went wide in astonishment. But a quick look at him told her he had no clue what he’d just suggested. She struggled with herself for a moment...and lost. A giggle escaped. Shades of red?

  Sometimes, a woman just couldn't help the pictures her mind drew. And good lord, this one was a doozie.

  She giggled again. "Red tape, huh? Sounds kinky.”

  He blanched, then went the most endearing shade of pink. The Landcruiser glided off the road and came to a rough stop. He turned toward her, slowly, deliberately, until his eyes locked on hers.

  Uh-oh.

  Unable to tear her gaze from his, she gripped the edge of the seat. He raked her body with a smoldering look that left no doubt he’d understood her little joke. The tips of her breasts tingled, knotting into hard points. Her pulse skyrocketed. “Wh-what are you doing?”

  Silently, he unbuckled his seat belt and bent over toward her.

  Oh, God. She scrambled away in panic.

  He followed.

  When he had her pinned against the door, she closed her eyes and swallowed.

  “Leif—“ she croaked out.

  She felt the scalding heat of his body surround her. Then heard the click of her seat belt opening.

  His gravelly voice whispered in her ear, "We're here.”

  Wait.

  What?

  Then he was gone.

  His door slammed and gravel crunched. Slowly, it sank in that he had hopped out of the car and was coming around to hers. She opened her eyes and looked around. This must be Eva’s house.

  The jerk never had any intention of kissing her!

  Okay, now she was officially ticked off.

  A second later, and she nearly tumbled out backward when he swung open the door. She quickly straightened, and pressed her lips together.

  Two could play this game.

  She took a deep breath, pasted on an innocent smile, and gazed up at him through lacy lashes and strands of hair that fell softly across her face. Then she dragged the hem of her dress leisurely up her legs—way up her legs—preparing to climb out of the car.

  He looked stricken.

  Ha.

  Swinging her bare legs out, she slid her pumps off the running board, but it was so high off the ground her feet dangled helplessly. Crap.

  Slowly, a dark smile slid across his face. When he raised his cobalt blue eyes to hers, they glowed with a roguish gleam. "Allow me.”

  The moment he touched her, she knew she’d made a mistake.

  A really big mistake.

  He grasped her waist and lifted her effortlessly. At five-eight, she was not used to being towered over by a man, but she felt totally at the mercy of this broad-shouldered, modern-day Viking.

  Oh. My. God.

  He swung her body up and over to his. His chin didn't quite touch her breasts, but he made sure everything else did on her way down.

  And, omigod, did it ever feel good.

  She closed her eyes and hummed in appreciation.

  Insanely good.

  She felt the hem of her dress lift even higher, caught in the friction between their bodies. A shiver ripped through her as his mustache teased past her cheek with a sensual tickle.

  She grabbed his shoulders, wanting to prolong the wonderful agony of his touch. The rough cotton fabric of his pants scorched her exposed thighs, and she moaned out his name, low and needy. “God, Leif.”

  “Joanne,” he gritted out, sounding as overwhelmed as she felt. He paused when they were center to center, his hard cock pressing into the thin silk of her sundress. She had to forcibly restrain herself from wrapping her legs around his waist to prolong the moment.

  Lord have mercy.

  Her feet touched the ground, but she had difficulty getting her knees to work. His hands slid from her waist up and around to settle on her back, and he pulled her tight to his chest.

  “Fuck,” he whispered. “Fucking hell.”

  No fucking kidding.

  They stood there, crushed together, for a long moment, her body in turmoil and her blood racing. If he asked, she’d have given him anything he wished. Anything.

  God, she wanted him.

  His fingers delved into her hair, and he wound its length around his palm until her face tilted up to his. His breath fanned over her cheeks, bathing her in the heat of his desire. Her nipples tightened painfully, and a moan escaped her. In answer, his tongue came out and swiped possessively across her upper lip, leaving the taste of him in its wake.

  She parted her lips for him, wanting more.

  Much more.

  Abruptly, he released her hair and pressed her head into the crook of his neck. The muscles of his jaw worked against her forehead. "They’re waiting for us inside. We have to go in.”

  “Y-yes. Of c-course," she managed to stammer, ready to go
off like a rocket, and disappointed beyond reason that it wasn’t going to happen.

  He was so damned sexy with his hard body and his eyes on fire, his hair so wonderfully mussed by her fingers.

  She licked her lips, craving his taste again. She wanted to grab him and pull him down. Make him do things to her. Wild, carnal things. Wanton, sexy things.

  She forced herself to let him go.

  And stifled a groan when she came back to her senses. God, what had she done?

  Exactly what she’d told herself not to do.

  This was all her fault. She had started it.

  Red tape, indeed.

  The worst part was, the encounter seemed to have changed Leif’s mind about being with her. The unmistakable look he gave her as he tucked her hand around his arm and started up the long driveway was one of pure, feral hunger.

  What would she do if he invited her into his bed?

  Oh. My. God.

  Her mind was in chaos.

  But there wasn’t time to think about that right now. They were quickly approaching the house.

  She needed to concentrate. And learn as much about her grandfather’s fate as she could.

  With difficulty, she refocused her attention on the coming interview. By the time they reached Eva's door, she had dragged herself back to reality.

  Leif touched her chin lightly with a finger. “Ready?”

  She took a deep breath, and nodded. “Ready.”

  He gazed at her for a short moment, then turned to knock. And murmured, “We’ll continue that later.”

  Chapter 20

  Eva Lundqvist was short and plump with gray hair and a charming smile. Joanne followed Leif into her living room, where he introduced her to Eva and then to Bengt Hasselblad who, despite his advancing years, sprang easily from a comfy recliner and bowed gallantly over her hand. Joanne didn’t miss Leif’s slight squirm at the delighted gaze of the old couple as they looked from him to her, and back again. Their affection for him was obvious, even to her.

  Who could blame them? Her own affection for him was growing by the minute.

  It was apparently a custom in Sweden never to entertain guests without stuffing them full of coffee and a multitude of scrumptious pastries. After one look at the plate full of pure unadulterated temptation, Joanne decided to renew her membership at the gym as soon as she got home, but to forget about counting calories until then. This was just too good to pass up. Besides, she’d skipped both breakfast and lunch.

  She munched contentedly as she listened to Eva and Bengt reminisce about how the Cold War had affected their little village way up in the north.

  Bengt thought back. "In those days the communist party was gaining popularity in Sweden, even here in Karesuomi. But because of the bridge to Finland, and being so close to the Soviet Union, our village was on an escape route often used by Soviet defectors. Those of us helping them had to make sure none of the communists living here learned of the escapees." He laughed, his eyes mirroring a youth remembered. "So we make a little trouble, do some distractions." He looked at Leif with mischief in his smile. "Your father, Harry, he was the biggest troublemaker.”

  Leif looked up in surprise.

  Bengt turned to her. "Since Harry was customs chief, he must watch carefully for smuggling. So he know everybody north of Arctic Circle, even the Soviets. All the Samer, too—the Lapps. Always, he know everything what was happening everywhere. Everyone trusted Harry Adel because he is good man. That's why it was easy for him to plan trouble." Bengt chuckled gleefully.

  "Still is," Leif said stoically.

  Bengt and Eva proceeded to tell several stories that left Joanne both moved and amused, and Leif obviously flabbergasted.

  "We guide lots of people back and forth in secret to Soviet Union," Bengt continued. "Lots of spies going to Kola Peninsula, and even defectors coming from interior.”

  Mention of Kola startled Joanne back to the present. "Did you ever hear about a plane crash around here in 1956? A small plane carrying a pilot, and a KGB defector?”

  Bengt looked thoughtful. "A plane crash. Ja—yes, I remember Harry mentions a crash. I'm not sure of year. Maybe 1956.”

  Leif's head came up, and he looked over at her. She smiled excitedly.

  "Harry was out fishing with friend, a Sami man, and they see a small plane go down. They follow the smoke and find plane. You ask Harry when he gets back. He knows where it is.”

  "You don't?" Leif asked before she had a chance.

  "Nej—no, Harry doesn't tell anyone where. In case someone find out and report to Soviets. He believe there was a communist informer in Karesuomi, so he was always careful.”

  Leif nodded thoughtfully.

  Joanne was ecstatic to find someone who actually knew about the crash, and impatient to find out more. But neither Bengt nor Eva knew who the occupants of the plane had been, or what had happened to them. Nor did they know the name of the Sami friend fishing with Harry that day.

  "Harry isn't ever telling anyone," said Eva.

  "Even later, when the Cold War was over?”

  “Never.”

  Leif looked baffled. "Seems strange."

  "Ja, it is strange. I think there is something special about this crash. Even now, Harry not talk of it.”

  Leif frowned over at her, and Joanne wondered what he was thinking. The whole thing sounded very mysterious. Why wouldn’t his father talk about it, even after all this time? Could there really be something about her grandfather’s crash that was classified...or even dangerous...for anyone to know about, even sixty years later?

  Could she be putting herself in danger by trying to find him?

  No. That was crazy talk. She was just letting her imagination run away with her.

  But try as she might, she couldn’t shake the idea completely.

  As they were saying their good-byes, Leif laid a protective hand at the small of her back, almost as if he could sense her disturbing thoughts. At his touch, she felt safe and secure. With Leif by her side, she was sure nothing bad could ever happen to her.

  All her nervousness melted away in the warmth and protection of his comforting gesture, and she dismissed her irrational worry of being in danger.

  Really, it was completely ridiculous.

  Chapter 21

  Joanne was back to feeling triumphant as they climbed into the Landcruiser to head back to the hotel. She was still a long way from actually finding her grandfather’s grave, but at least she was on the right track. It felt great.

  "Unbelievable," she said jubilantly. "Your father knows everything about the crash. How can I possibly wait five days for him to get back?”

  Leif looked over from the driver’s seat, an unreadable expression on his face. "It'll go by in no time.”

  She smiled. "Your dad must be pretty amazing. I couldn't believe the stories they were telling about him.” Leif’s pride had been obvious.

  "Dad doesn't talk much about his intelligence work, even from back then. I didn't know he was so involved in aiding Soviet defectors. It’ll be interesting to hear what he has to say about the crash.”

  “And the two men who went down in it,” she murmured.

  Leif pulled into the parking lot at the Hjortron and stopped a few steps from the front entrance.

  Instantly, tension filled the Landcruiser. Their impending good-bye reminded her all to vividly of what had happened in front of Eva's.

  Would he try to kiss her again?

  She fidgeted with her purse strap, not sure what she should say. Not sure if she should even let him touch her. Or let herself touch him.

  "Look—" they both said at the same time, then laughed nervously.

  He hesitated. "About earlier—”

  "It was my fault," she interrupted. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have teased you like that. I don't know what came over me.”

  Actually, she had a pretty darn good idea what had come over her. He had. And suddenly that searing, aching, physical need swamped back over
her. A need so strong it nearly left her dizzy. A need that would surely spell heartache, under the circumstances.

  He closed his eyes and leaned back against the headrest. "I'd be a damn liar if I said I wasn't attracted to you.”

  Her breath caught. She didn’t know which she dreaded more—a passionate plea for more intimacy, or a rejection.

  “Very attracted,” he said.

  Her heart pounded madly. Bad idea, she told herself. Really bad idea.

  "I know I said we’d continue that kiss later," he began, then faltered. He rolled his head and looked over at her. "And God knows, there’s nothing I'd like more— But it's frowned upon for government officials to seduce tourists.”

  She met his gaze in relief. This man was the diplomat. He'd found the perfect out for both of them.

  "I understand," she said with a nod of agreement. And ignored the blade of disappointment that razored through her whole body. “No doubt, a wise policy.”

  Before either of them could change their mind, she jumped out of the car and came around to his side. “Then I guess I won’t see you before your dad gets back," she said through his open window.

  He gave her a wry smile. "You’re forgetting. I'm still your personal bureaucrat,” he said calmly. “You want to get rid of me, it has to be requested in triplicate. But I wouldn’t do that." His voice lowered and curled around her suggestively. "I've got at least a week's supply of red tape at home, just in case.”

  His rumbled statement shot a volley of heat through her limbs and straight to her center, temporarily paralyzing her. He reached out and caught her fingers in his hand. He had almost raised them to his lips when she came to her senses and pulled them back.

  "Nuh-uh-uh," she admonished, waggling one at him. “You are being very naughty.”

  He just smiled. A sly, Arctic fox kind of smile. The Landcruiser rolled away, leaving her gazing after him, a delicious terror creeping over her.

  Despite his statement to the contrary, she had a sinking—and thrilling—feeling she’d soon find out just how naughty he really was.

  A week's supply.

  Lord help her.