Ten Brides for Ten Hot Guys

by Donna Fasano

  Chapter 76

  Joanne flinched when their two captors stalked back into the room.

  "We have just been informed"—Aviators pierced her with a merciless look—"that you have already found the list.”

  She fought to keep herself together. "Not possible. I've been with you all day, remember?”

  He leaned into her face, hissing like a snake. "Stop lying. We know you found it.”

  She felt the blood drain from her face. "I told you," she rasped. "It's with Harry Adel in China.”

  "Tell us where it is, or things will go badly for your friend, here.”

  Sidekick grabbed Bill and jabbed his knife right under his left eye.

  She shot to her feet, panic hurtling through her. "No! Don't!" Sidekick paused, but didn’t remove the knife. "I… " She cast about for something, anything, to salvage the situation. "Who told you I found the list?”

  Aviator Guy’s sinister look was fleetingly replaced by pity, then went back to threatening. "Your lover. And his friend, the chief inspector.”

  Disbelief grabbed her by the throat and her brain went into overdrive. Leif knew damn well she'd found nothing. He was the one in a position to find the damn list, not her.

  Think, Joanne, think!

  This had to be a message from him. Part of a plan he had come up with to rescue them. That was the only possible explanation.

  Suddenly, she heard the sound of a car crunching slowly up the gravel drive.

  Oh, thank God! Leif! He'd found her!

  She nearly sagged with relief.

  Aviators signaled Sidekick to look out the front window.

  Then he pulled a lethal-looking revolver from under his coat. "Our ride." He shoved her toward the bed and went outside, locking the front door.

  "Now what?" Bill mumbled.

  She couldn’t stop shaking. She looked at him miserably. "What do I do? If I don't tell them something, they'll kill you. Or worse.”

  Bill jacked up an eyebrow. "I’m having trouble imagining anything much worse than dying.”

  She bit her tongue. She’d always did have too vivid an imagination.

  "I could use some advice, here!" She grabbed his shirt, feeling close to hysterical. "You're the goddamned CIA agent.”

  "Analyst. Not a field officer. I write goddamn reports." Bill’s face had gone suspiciously pale. "Just tell them what they want to hear.”

  Before she could let him know what she thought of his stupid advice, Aviators swung the door open and motioned impatiently with his gun. "Let's go.”

  As they walked into the main room, she swallowed back a cry. Sidekick had his knife trained at the neck of a police constable who had been gagged and bound with duct tape. It was the same cop she had seen at the restaurant the night she walked into town. Crap! So much for the cavalry.

  Leif, where are you?

  As they were prodded past him, Sidekick’s fist struck out against the man's head and he collapsed in a limp heap on the floor.

  "So nice of him to lend us his car," Aviators murmured, sliding on his shades.

  Chapter 77

  "Helvete." Leif clicked off his cell phone and glanced over at Pelle. "Kauti said he and my father suspected it was Göran Södergren who was the Soviet informant in the village after the war, but they could never prove anything.”

  Pelle leaned forward in his chair, his face somber as he contemplated that bit of information. "Niall's father.”

  Leif wore the path in his living room carpet even deeper. "I don’t buy it. Niall may be a slacker, but he wouldn’t help assassins. Not willingly.”

  Pelle steepled his fingertips, "Suppose they have something on his father? Like maybe his name is on that list.”

  Leif shook his head. "Then my father would have had his proof way back then. Besides, Sweden wasn’t one of the countries on it, according to Robert."

  Pelle exhaled. “Maybe there’s a different list, with Sweden on it, and the Hungarians have it.”

  Which would explain Niall’s involvement. "I still don't believe he’d agree to kidnapping. Let alone murder. Say what you will, he’s still a cop.”

  "Maybe he's just supplying them information, and didn’t know their plans." Suddenly, Pelle lit up. "But regardless—”

  Leif was on his feet in an instant, reaching the same conclusion. "Niall knows where they are.”

  Pelle was already heading for the radio. “I’ll find out his last position.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were in a police cruiser pulling up to a run-down old woodsman’s cabin. Gravel flew as the car careened to a stop just short of the front stoop.

  A man sat despondently on the top stair, hands bound behind his back, and his mouth taped shut. An ugly, ragged, purplish-black bruise shone from his cheekbone.

  Leif and Pelle both stepped from the cruiser.

  "Hello, Niall," Leif said evenly.

  Chapter 78

  Joanne was as close to dying of fright as she had ever been in her life. She, Bill, and their captors had made it as far as Kauti's cottage with no sign of rescue. She hadn’t spotted a single cop car or Customs cruiser along the way, either. Other than the one they were in.

  The Hungarians had barely spoken a word. They were obviously under the impression she had found the list in the plane Robert Grant had crashed in 1956—and that it was still there. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen when she couldn't come up with it.

  At Kauti’s, she and Bill were yanked out of the cruiser and herded up through the forest on foot. When they reached the hillside crash site, Aviators prodded her back with his gun, compelling her down into the hollow to the wreckage of the plane.

  Sidekick stood on the edge of the hollow with Bill, watching closely.

  Aviators aimed his pistol at her head. He didn't have to say a word, it was written in the look he gave her.

  The list, or die.

  Sweat beaded her upper lip. She swallowed hard, and glanced first over at the wing, then down into the cockpit.

  Above her, Bill was the picture of commiseration. He'd believed her when she said she didn't know where the list was. Right about now, she'd bet anything he was praying she’d lied.

  She stretched out her wrists to have the tape cut, wincing in pain when the knife nicked her skin along with it. Climbing into the cockpit, she seated herself gingerly on the tangle of sharp springs, silently praying for inspiration.

  She closed her eyes and reached out, touching the dials and levers on the instrument panel one by one, with blood trickling down her fingers, playing for time.

  Not that a few minutes more would do her any good.

  The cosmic fatalism of the situation did not escape her.

  Here she was, destined to die far away from home and family, in the very same spot and even the very same plane, as her grandfather. How ironic was that?

  Well, except that he hadn’t actually died.

  A small, hysterical laugh escaped her. The universe was, surely, amused.

  Her blood-sticky fingers met a round dial, and she remembered this was the one that had been turned slightly—she had shifted it back around as she sat gathering wool in the cockpit the other day.

  Which suddenly gave her an idea.

  Her fingers whipped back to the loose dial. If she could pull it out completely...there just might be a gap behind it. She could show the Hungarians, and convince them that’s where the defector had had hidden his precious list when he realized the plane was going down. It wasn’t her fault that the list had since disappeared. Right?

  It could work.

  Maybe.

  If she could somehow channel Meryl Streep.

  Slim. But at this point, it seemed like her only option.

  Opening her eyes and taking a deep breath, she grasped the dial and pulled. All three men watched her intently. The dial squeaked like a demon banshee, but slid out fairly easily from the instrument panel.

  To her surprise, a long metal tube was attached to the b
ack of it. She pulled, and pulled, and finally the whole cylinder popped out from the cavity that had been hidden in, behind the dial.

  What the hell...?

  She lifted it with hesitant fingers, and the long tube fell away from the dial, suspended by a small hinge. She gulped, and looked inside.

  Oh. Crap.

  She stifled a gasp, and shot a look of consternation at Bill.

  This was so not good.

  Aviators whisked the cylinder from her hands. "You see?” he said in satisfaction. “That wasn't so difficult." He tugged a tight roll of waxy papers from the tube and examined them. "Excellent."

  She swallowed a strangled groan. Ho-boy. What had she done?

  Sidekick gave Bill a push, and he landed in a puddle at her feet. Then Sidekick trotted down and joined his comrade in gloating over her discovery.

  Aviators leveled an icy stare at her and Bill. "And now, I'm afraid we must be leaving. Ah," he added with a chilling smile. "Not you, of course.”

  She spun away from him and almost tripped over the fuselage. Her pulse exploded. "But you said you'd let us go if I gave you the list!”

  "You're far too trusting." He pressed the muzzle of his gun into her chest.

  From up above, a deep, familiar voice drawled, "You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  She whirled around at the most beautiful words she had ever heard, spoken by the most wonderful man in the world.

  “And I'll take that list, if you don’t mind,” he added.

  Around the edge of the hollow, a ring of hunting rifles, assault weapons, pistols, and crossbows pointed down at the Hungarians. Aiming them, was a tight circle of grim-faced Swedes and Samer, police, woodsmen, and villagers.

  One tall, powerfully-built man separated his broad shoulders from the rest.

  She finally found her voice. “Leif!”

  In two leaping bounds, he was there with her, wrapping himself around her in a hard embrace she hoped would never end. He swept her up in his strong arms. "I’m here, älskling. Let's go home.”

  Chapter 79

  Joanne was still snug under Leif’s arm when he finally ushered her into his house late that night. They were both exhausted.

  There had been long explanations and police statements and formal identifications, and all the rest of the official paperwork that had to be completed before they were cut loose.

  Leif's contact from the Swedish State Department had shown up, and Joanne’s grandfather had presented him with the original list of European KGB operatives—after receiving a solemn promise they wouldn’t release the names until after the election in Hungary. Joanne got the distinct impression they didn’t intend to release the names, at all. Not until it would do the country some good, at any rate.

  The whole time she was going through the bureaucratic nightmare, Leif had been by her side. He'd been silent for the most part, but his quiet strength and unflagging support had gotten her through the ordeal without breaking down. Or thinking too hard about what might have happened if he’d gotten there five minutes later.

  He carried her over the threshold of his home, kicking the door closed behind him. He leaned his back against it for a moment and just held her close.

  "I thought I would go crazy,” he murmured. “Not knowing where you were, or what they were doing to you."

  She buried her face against his neck, drinking in the comfort of his masculine scent, drowning in the safety of his loving arms. "When I realized they were going to kill me, my only thought was that I would never see you again.”

  His fingers dug into her as he held her tight. “I wasn’t about to let that happen.”

  “I know.” Her eyes burned as tears seeped over her lashes. "I love you, Leif. So much.”

  "Hush, don't cry, älskling min." He took her face in his hands and tenderly brushed away her tears. "I don't ever intend to let you out of my sight again." He caressed her cheeks. "I love you, too. Stay with me, Jo. Be my wife.”

  At his words, all her pain and weariness vanished in a cloud of joy. She beamed up at him. "Oh, Leif, I want nothing more.”

  From his pocket, he withdrew a small leather pouch and from it he pulled a beautiful gold pendant, engraved with an ancient design. "This belonged to my mother, and my mother's mother before her." He slid it around her neck and fastened it. "Keep it in trust for our daughter, and our granddaughter.”

  Tears of happiness blurred her vision as she gazed into the eyes of the man she loved with all her heart. "I'll keep it safe, always.”

  "Joanne." Tilting her face up, he brushed her mouth with his. "You are my life. How I love you."

  Chapter 80

  Two days later, Joanne walked hand in hand with Leif around the Midsummer Festival. Everywhere, people were dressed in the colorful Swedish folk costumes cherished by families and handed down from generation to generation. She and Leif also wore them. He had on dusky yellow tasseled knee-breeches, with tall black boots, a voluminous white Cossack shirt, and blue-gray vest. She was in a bright red and blue peasant-style dress with a lacy apron, and had woven flowers and ribbons in her hair.

  She waved to Robert and Virginia who were holding hands, seated at a table with Joanne's mother and another older couple—Leif’s parents. "Your mom and dad are so sweet," she told him with a smile. "I'm glad they made it home in time for the wedding.”

  He laughed and gave her hand a squeeze. "It's a good thing they did. I don't think they would ever have forgiven us if they weren't included." He put his hand on the small of her back as they approached the table. He leaned down and kissed his mother's cheek. "Mom. Dad. Ready for the ceremony?”

  Hannah Adel reached up and gave her son a hug. "I can't believe you are rushing this poor girl into marrying you after only a week!" She held out her hands to Joanne. "Are you sure, my dear? He really can be quite a bully. Being an only child, he's used to having his way.”

  Joanne grinned, giving Leif a sidelong glance. "If he hadn't bullied me into it, I'd be bullying him. I'm an only child, too.”

  "I'll vouch for that," her own mother said wryly.

  Joanne wrinkled her nose at her, then looked back at Hannah. "You don't mind that I'm taking him away for a while?”

  "Heavens, no! It's been years since Leif’s had a vacation.”

  Harry Adel slapped Leif on the back, and winked at Joanne. "You keep him over there as long as you want. I'll be having a ball filling in for him at Customs.”

  Leif rolled his eyes. "Håkan and Ingvar will kill me for letting you out of retirement.”

  Harry ignored Leif’s jibe. "Besides, with Robert and Virginia housesitting your place, we won't even notice you're gone." He chuckled. "Although, come to think of it, we may never see them, either!”

  Virginia blushed, and Robert looked affectionately at her. "I guess we do have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Joanne's mother tore her eyes from the reunited couple, and said to Leif, "In the States, it's considered bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony on their wedding day.”

  He pulled out a chair and sat. "Don't worry, that's not the custom here." He tugged Joanne down on his lap. "Besides, after everything that's happened, who could blame me for not wanting her out of my sight?"

  “Not me.” Joanne wound her arms around his neck and smiled. “And I’m not superstitious, anyway.”

  She didn’t think it was possible to be so happy. She had found the man she would love for the rest of her life, had discovered a grandfather who was thrilled to rejoin her family, and had been accepted into a loyal and loving community. Nestling up against Leif’s wonderfully strong body, she had never felt safer or more content in her life.

  Tilting her face up, she put her lips to his, and they sank into a long, delicious kiss.

  “Mmm,” he hummed, and kissed her again.

  "Here you are, you two." Vanja's cheerful voice insinuated itself between them. "Am I interrupting anything?”

  Leif's mouth didn't even break
contact. "Yes, Vanja, you are. Go away.”

  "You are unfairly monopolizing your beautiful fiancée, cousin.”

  "She's resting up. For the wedding.”

  Vanja nodded, her face serious. "I see. And you're giving her mouth to mouth resuscitation?"

  "That's right.”

  "Is it having an effect?”

  Joanne giggled. "Definitely.”

  Sighing, Leif slid her off his lap. "Unfortunately, not the desired one," he grumbled.

  Two men walked up to them. "Excuse us, Joanne Fager?" one said, bowing slightly. He had a German accent.

  She stepped back nervously. "Yes?”

  Leif was on his feet in a second. "Who are you?”

  The two men shifted away from him, and quickly introduced themselves. "We work for Mercedes Benz,” the second man said. “We came to apologize to Ms. Fager.”

  Joanne’s brows arched in surprise. "To me? Whatever for?” They were the ones who’d had their prototype vehicle stolen by her kidnappers.

  “For taking this.” The first man held out her stolen purse, along with her cell phone. "Sorry. We heard you design autos in Detroit, and thought you were spying. Taking photos of the car.”

  She took her things and smiled gratefully. "No harm done. I'm just glad to have them back.”

  As they turned to leave, the first man paused. "By the way, could we interest you in doing a little work for us occasionally? That is, if you’re staying in Karesuomi.”

  After hearing out their generous offer, she said, a little stunned, "Thank you. I'll certainly think about it.”

  Smiling broadly, Vanja took her arm. "See? It's fate. You were meant to be here.”

  Joanne beamed at her, and then at Leif, who smiled back with an expression that hovered somewhere between disbelief and adoration.

  "But now, dear cousin, you'll have to let Joanne go.” Vanja gave him a peck on the cheek, and shooed him away. “It's time to get ready for the wedding.”