Ten Brides for Ten Hot Guys

by Donna Fasano

  Chapter 22

  In the rear-view mirror, Leif watched Joanne's hurry toward the hotel with a potent mixture of regret and dismay.

  Herregud, he was in one, big, damned heap of trouble.

  What in the world had possessed him to make that crack about red tape?

  A week’s supply. Helvete. It was going to take a week's supply of icy showers to tame his raging hard-on after seeing her reaction to that little suggestive remark.

  To make matters worse, once again he’d been rendered brain-dead by their intense sexual chemistry. Damn it! He’d meant to tell her about the bullet in her tire. Last night at dinner he’d decided to wait because they were having such a good time and he didn’t want to spoil it. She was going to be safe enough at the hotel, anyway. Then today, when he’d seen her with that McAndrew guy, every rational thought had flown from his head. And later, that insane kiss hadn’t helped his thinking one damn bit. So he’d totally forgotten.

  He didn’t dare go after her to tell her now. If he ended up in her hotel room, he wouldn’t be responsible for what happened.

  Anyway, better to wait until he knew if she was actually in danger.

  Swiping a palm over his sweaty brow, he decided he’d better stiff-leg it back to the hut and see if Pelle had come up with anything on the Saab or the two goons driving it.

  Meanwhile, he’d try to get hold of his parents in China again to ask his dad about the plane crash. The sooner they solved that mystery and found Joanne’s grandfather, the sooner Leif could get the damned American woman out of his life. He didn’t know how much longer he could take the strain. Or the horniness.

  Thankfully, when he stalked into the hut a few minutes later, Håkan and Ingvar took one look at him and scrambled to get out of his path. He so did not want to talk to anyone right now except his father.

  He slammed into his office chair, sending it flying backward until its wheels smashed against the wall. He didn’t bother scooting it forward again, just sat glaring into space.

  When he finally turned to his two junior officers a good ten minutes later, their anxious expressions had morphed into amusement.

  Great. Word must be all over the village about his unprofessional behavior with that woman. He clenched his jaw, thinking of the gossip that must be making the rounds. First their long stroll by the river yesterday, then the hours they'd lingered over dinner with him gazing at her like some kind of lovesick pup. And today at the hotel when he had barely restrained himself from decking that bastard McAndrew just for having lunch with her.

  Not to mention that scorching kiss. Had anyone seen that?

  Leif slammed his eyes shut and stifled a groan, imagining one of Håkan and Ingvar’s buddies describing how their normally Arctic-cool boss was seen lifting a woman's skirt to her waist and practically fucking her right on the side of the road.

  He made a frustrated noise and scrubbed his face with his hands. "What are you two staring at?" he snapped when he looked up.

  "Nothing at all, boss." Ingvar jumped to start working at a task that looked suspiciously like shuffling papers from one side of his desk to the other, while Håkan buried his nose in the filing cabinet.

  The two clowns could barely restrain their glee. Leif silently cursed each and every time he'd rolled his eyes at them for their endless succession of silly crushes and stupid love affairs.

  He could just imagine what they were thinking about him right now.

  Since his divorce, he had solemnly sworn off women. Didn't need them, didn't want them, planned on living indefinitely without them. And he hadn't hesitated to say so. At every possible opportunity.

  Apparently, that had been his mind talking. His body now seemed to be staging a rebellion. It was obvious Håkan and Ingvar couldn't wait to see the fallout.

  Clearly, they figured they knew which part of him would win out. They were always telling him he was only human—like them. A normal guy, with normal feelings and desires. He'd just suppressed them because they had once betrayed him so badly.

  Well, he had a newsflash for those two busybodies. He wasn't about to let his emotions rule him again. Not willingly, at any rate.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t think he had the willpower to resist this particular woman. He just didn't care to admit it. To them...or to himself.

  He shoved his chair forward to his desk and, with a deadly scowl, rooted through the papers on it. "Where the hell is Bo's report on that Fager woman's tire blowout?" he demanded.

  Håkan quickly dropped what he was pretending to do, sidled over to Leif's desk, and handed him a file from the top of a stack right in front of him.

  He grunted, and opened the file.

  Håkan leaned casually against his desk as Ingvar went to the fax machine and picked up several sheets of paper. They actually smirked at each other.

  "Did you say something?" he gritted out between his teeth, not looking up from the file.

  "Not a thing, boss." Ingvar cautiously approached Leif and handed over the papers. "These came in a little while ago from Pelle.”

  "Why didn't you tell me?" Leif boomed, snatching the fax from his hand.

  It was copies of the rental agreement for the Saab, plus border entry info for the two men who had rented it. According to both sources, the men were from Hungary. As he perused the rest of the information, he grew thoughtful.

  He called Pelle. "So what else do we know about these two Hungarians?”

  "They list their occupations as businessmen, and that claim turns out to be legitimate. They have interest in an import-export company out of Budapest.”

  "But?”

  "But the State Department has long suspected them of being with AVO, the Hungarian State Security Police.”

  Leif's jaw dropped. " The secret police? You’re fucking joking.”

  "'Fraid not.”

  "AVO. Here. In Karesuomi.”

  "Yep. And shooting at Joanne Fager.”

  “You think it was deliberate?” he asked, hoping what he was thinking was wrong. “That they were specifically targeting Joanne?”

  “I don’t see any other possible explanation,” Pelle said. “If these guys are the professionals we suspect them to be, this was not some random shooting.”

  Leif’s insides chilled. “Still, the good news is, pros wouldn’t have missed. They must have been aiming for the tire, not Joanne.”

  Pelle grunted in agreement. “"But why? What the hell is going on?"

  “God only knows.”

  “What did you say she’s doing in Sweden, again?”

  “Searching for her grandfather’s remains. But, Jesus, Robert Grant died sixty years ago. Why would they be shooting at her over that?”

  “No clue. But my guess is, that’s the key to the puzzle.”

  Leif leaned back grimly and stared at the ceiling. Herregud. Could two AVO agents shooting out Joanne’s tire really be related to her grandfather’s plane crash way back in the fifties? What the hell had Grant been involved in that it still would have repercussions today? But Pelle was right. As unlikely as the idea seemed, under these circumstances, there really was no other logical conclusion.

  "I’ll try to find out more about the grandfather and his mission,” Leif said. “That seems to be our best path to solving this.”

  “Right. And I'll put out an APB on the Hungarians. If they're still in Sweden, we'll pick them up.”

  "Thanks, Pelle.”

  After hanging up, Leif leaned his elbows on his desk and dropped his spinning head into his hands.

  This was too much. Not only did he have to worry that he might pounce on Joanne like some caveman in heat, but now he also had to worry that she might be attacked by men with a much more sinister purpose than a night of mindless sex.

  The secret fucking police?

  What the hell was going on that the goddamn Hungarian Security Service should be shooting out her tires?

  More important, how the hell was he going to protect her from them?


  Chapter 23

  Lying on the bed in her hotel room, Joanne could not stop thinking about Leif.

  It was pure agony. She would not allow herself to succumb to the sexual allure of the man. Leif was anything but civilized and sophisticated—so unlike the men she was used to dealing with. He tried to be reserved and distant, but that was a sham. When he let his guard down, he was all raw, irresistible emotion.

  It was so tempting to flirt with danger. His rippling body and mesmerizing blue eyes did things to her insides that she'd only dreamed of before meeting him. What would it be like to make love to a man like Leif?

  With a groan, she flopped down on the bed. Damn, she wanted to find out.

  But giving in to physical desires would not do either of them any good. Even if she wanted to stay in Sweden longer than a week, she had her job to think about. Her family. She couldn’t just ignore all her responsibilities and remain here, halfway around the world, on a whim.

  Okay, so maybe her life wasn’t much to write home about. But honestly, what would she have to look forward to if she stayed here to be with Leif? A few months of great sex? Then what?

  Sure, he might enjoy getting physical with her. But beyond that? Vanja had said he’d never consider getting seriously involved with a woman who wasn’t from this area. Leif himself had told her he was only helping to find her grandfather out of duty.

  Wanting a real relationship was definitely not a factor in his desire for her.

  But she knew instinctively she could never become physically involved with Leif without her own emotions becoming involved. She could already feel the pull on her heart for him, after knowing the man only a couple of days and sharing a single kiss.

  No, she needed to avoid him.

  And avoid him she would.

  Somehow.

  Chapter 24

  Once her decision had been made to avoid Leif, Joanne felt much calmer.

  Now it was time to get back to work.

  She pulled out the phone number for Reverend Sigurdsson's rectory, anxious to hear if he had found out anything about where her grandfather might be buried.

  "Joanne! I was just about to call you,” he said. After exchanging greetings, he went on. “I'm afraid I don't have good news. Robert Grant is not buried in Sweden.”

  "Oh, no." She swallowed a curse as disappointment filled her. "Well, thanks so much for trying.”

  "Don't give up yet," he said cheerfully. "Finland is just over the river, and there's an equal chance he's on that side.”

  "Yes, of course. I'd just hoped…”

  "Don't worry. We'll find him. I'll call my Finnish colleagues first thing in the morning.”

  She smiled. The reverend’s optimism was contagious. "That would be great. I really appreciate your help.”

  "Think nothing of it, I haven't spoken to so many old friends in years. I'm thoroughly enjoying myself.”

  After hanging up, she thought about what she could possibly do in the meantime. Since Leif's father knew about the plane crash, hopefully that meant her grandfather’s remains were not lying somewhere out there in the wilderness. He must be officially buried somewhere. Harry Adel would surely know where. But she really wanted to find him as soon as possible. Midsummer was nearly at the end of her vacation time, and she would still have to make all the arrangements to bring the remains back home, once she found his grave.

  On the other hand, she was grateful for the distraction. Concentrating on her search left less free time to think about a certain enticing Customs chief. And less time to do something really dumb.

  Maybe a walk to the village would help get the man out of her head.

  She could grab some dinner, and also take some photos to email to her grandmother.

  The village was about a mile down the main road, which wound its way through forest and fragrant wildflower meadows before emerging in the small hamlet. Joanne strolled along leisurely, snapping pictures and enjoying the early evening warmth and the quaint, festive atmosphere of the village when she got there. Midsummer decorations were everywhere—blue and yellow streamers billowing from lampposts, tubs of vibrant flowers along the sidewalks, and bright, colorful posters in the shop windows. Everyone she met was friendly and cheerful.

  Seeing a small pharmacy, she remembered she hadn't brought along any sunscreen. The sun here was intense during the long days, even though it wasn't particularly hot. On impulse, she decided to buy some. As she turned to go into the pharmacy, Leif walked out.

  "Joanne!" A guilty look passed over his face as he put his hands behind his back.

  Damn. She’d taken this walk to get away from thoughts of Leif. It just figured he’d be the first person she ran into.

  Even so, a thrill ran through her at the sight of him. She smiled. "Hi.”

  "Hi, yourself." His boots shifted back and forth on the sidewalk. "Out exploring the village?”

  She nodded. "Felt like taking a walk.”

  His brows went up. "You walked? All this way?”

  "It wasn't that far. What are you up to?”

  "Me?" He lifted a shoulder, abruptly glancing away. "Nothing." He gestured to the door with the small bag in his hand. "Just went to the drug store." He suddenly seemed to notice the bag, and folded his arms over it. "For aspirin.”

  She gave him a sympathetic look. "Headache?”

  He choked a little. "No," he rasped, "but I think I feel one coming on.”

  "Oh. Too bad.” Before she was even aware of what she was doing, she said, “Then I guess you won't feel like joining me.”

  He stilled. "Joining you?”

  She motioned toward a small bistro a few doors down the street. A dozen or so tables with umbrellas sat out on the side lawn, where the restaurant was doing a lively business. "For dinner.”

  He glanced over at it. "Oh. Well, I, uh—"

  Just then, his cell phone rang. He jetted out a breath. “Sorry.” He reached for it. After just a short conversation in Swedish, he hung up and looked at her apologetically. "That was Ingvar at the hut. They just tried to stop possible smuggler at the border and he made a run for it. I’ve got to go.”

  Disappointment fluttered into the pit of her stomach. "Okay. No problem."

  It had sounded like he’d been trying to come up with an excuse to say no, anyway. Foolish to think he might want to have dinner with her again. He'd made it clear he had no desire for their relationship to go any further into the personal realm than it already had.

  "Hey." He lifted her chin with a finger. "How about I come by the hotel later? I can buy you a drink.”

  She shrugged, striving for casual indifference. "Whatever. I might make an early night of it. It's been another long day.”

  He moved his finger up and pushed a stray hair out of her face. "Okay. Take your phone off the hook if you go to sleep, so I won't wake you when I call.”

  She nodded. "Sure. Bye.”

  He traced along her jaw with his thumb, then withdrew his hand. "Bye." He strode off and disappeared around the corner of the drug store, and in a moment he drove past in the Landcruiser.

  Staring down the road after him, she stood rooted to the spot, her jaw tingling from his touch, until the scent of good, home-style cooking and the sound of her stomach growling finally pulled her attention away from her disappointment.

  She walked over to the bistro, sat down at a table, and proceeded to indulge herself in a wonderful meal. Not as varied and elaborate as last night’s feast, but still delicious. After lingering over dinner and people-watching, it was almost eight o'clock by the time she paid the bill.

  As she got up from the table, she accidentally bumped into a tall, middle-aged policeman. "Oh! Sorry! I didn't see you." She smiled tentatively.

  He removed his sunglasses and looked her over with a crooked smile. "No harm done." He swaggered off to a vacant table.

  In spite of the late hour, the sun was still shining brightly as she started walking back to the hotel. She hoped Vanja woul
d be around when she got there. She really felt like talking tonight, and maybe, if the right opportunity arose, she would broach the subject of Leif. She wanted to know more about the man who had, against all odds, succeeded in turning her inside out.

  The dusky, verdant smells of the pine meadow floated up from the warm earth as she strolled along the side of the road. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the clean spiciness of the air.

  A strange-looking gray car with dark tinted windows drove slowly past, and she stared after it. What the hell was that car? She’d seen it driving past the hotel a couple of other times. Even though she worked in the auto industry, she couldn’t identify its make or model. It was a complete enigma.

  Like so much else in this wild, untamed country.

  She chuffed out a breath. Speaking of wild and untamed...

  The more she thought about Leif, the more confused she got.

  He was the sexiest thing she had ever laid eyes on. She already had a major crush on him. The man got her libido revved up like no man ever had.

  But her time here was so limited. Did she really want a holiday romance? One that so clearly did not have a future beyond her week’s stay?

  She kicked a couple of stones along the road.

  What should she do with these feelings that were creeping into her heart, urging her to do something so totally out of character?

  What if, even in the short time they had together, Leif managed to crash through her defenses and lay bare her soul, as she was so afraid he could? What if she let him make love to her, only to find he had also made her love him?

  Even if he ended up feeling the same way—which seemed highly unlikely—how would it ever work? He couldn't leave Sweden—his job was with the government. If they were to have a future together, she'd have to move here. How could she possibly do that?

  She stopped dead in her tracks, watching a small flock of birds take wing from the meadow.

  Good lord.

  What on earth was she thinking?

  Fall in love? Move to Sweden?

  Get real!

  Leif didn't want to get involved any more than she did. She had to cut out this silly fantasizing. It wasn't rational.