by D. A. Young
“My grandparents secretly arranged a marriage between my mother and Ivar’s longtime business ally, Ebbe Bergqvist’s oldest son, Nolan. Bergqvist and Ivar made their first million together in shipping. Ivar was lookin’ to control the ports through an alliance. Their plans were screwed when my mother met and fell in love with my father.”
Holt nodded somberly at Kat’s sharp inhale. “It’s a complicated tale, darlin. Ivar was humiliated by her behavior. As a sort of consolation prize, he offered her unborn child to be betrothed with Bergqvist’s first grandchild, provided our sexes were opposite, of course. We were supposed to marry when we turned twenty-five, solidifyin’ the families in an unbreakable partnership. I wasn’t aware of the arrangement until I turned eighteen. As the families were close, Cleo was always around, but I’d never given her much thought.”
Holt’s brow furrowed, recalling the rage he’d felt at having his life controlled to such extremities. He reached behind him to sit down on her work stool, tugging Kat between his thighs. With his height, they were eye-level. Kat pressed forward until their foreheads met and their fingers wove together behind her back. Although their flesh was touching and their breaths intermingling, the intimacy still wasn’t enough for the couple. It was just a constant craving for more. More kisses, touching, and ‘I love yous’ as they fell harder together. Steeped in necessity, the need was as powerful as oxygen.
“Finish your story, babe,” Kat urged, even as her lips brushed against his, her nose inhaling the combined fragrance of cedarwood and the sunflower oil Holt wore on his beard. It was a new brand of cologne that she’d picked up for him at Pour Homme, the men’s boutique, in town last week, and like Holt, it was instantly and incredibly addictive.
“Ivar is a cunnin’ old bastard. He rules over the family with an iron fist and a manipulative mind, Kat. His specialty is demeanin’ those around him and reducin’ them to incompetent, bumblin’ dipshits. My parents’ relationship is a touchy subject on my mom’s side of the family. I might not have ever been born; her defiance cost my mother her foot, courtesy of Ivar. And my Aunt Ziva, her sister-in-law died, from an accidental, yet fatal, gunshot. My Uncle Tage, her husband, and my mother’s second oldest brother has never forgiven my family for her death, and his son, my cousin Otto, despises me because of my ‘killer mother’.”
What in thee actual hell??? Kat’s mind was ricocheting with this new information, and she said the first thing that came to it. “That is the most profoundly dysfunctional shit I’ve ever heard. I assume this is why Sweden wasn’t on our traveling agenda?”
Holt released her hands to rub the back of his neck. Damn, just talking about the drama made him antsy. “Yeah. I don’t engage unless I have to. It’s a windin’, complex path of drama with no end in sight, and I try my damnedest not to get sucked into it. That’s why I like for my shit to remain uncomplicated here. This place and you are my sanctuaries from all of the madness. Welcome to my world, baby.”
Kat’s arms snaked around his neck, and her lips found him and stayed until he relaxed again. Softly, they broke apart and Kat smoothed his hair back from his face and kissed his bearded cheek.
“There is no place I’d rather be. Our world. You. Me. Together. We got this and whatever comes next. Lean on me if you need to,” Kat encouraged Holt, her fingers tracing his mouth and his tongue licked the pads seductively. “I think we got off topic. Care to redirect?”
“Because you’re a damned cute distraction, Little Romankov. Anyway, my parents suggested I give myself some time to get used to the idea; however, I knew delayin’ the inevitable could lead to possibly hurtin’ and humiliatin’ Cleo. She didn’t deserve that, and I didn’t want to chance it. There was never goin’ to be any room in my heart for her.”
His fingers lightly gripped her chin. Thank God that he’d had the good sense not to commit to Cleo. Honor would have demanded he see it through. The spell this little minx had put on Holt would have caused history to repeat itself. “I flew to Sweden and requested a face-to-face meetin’, which she accepted.”
Rabid curiosity consumed Kat, activating a restless state. What woman in her right mind had willingly let him go? “How did she take it? What is she like?”
Holt smiled faintly at her worried tone. There was absolutely, unmistakably, no comparison in his mind. Cleo was beautiful in a wholesomely fresh way with her sable mane and green eyes that earned her the nickname “Snow White”. But she was eclipsed by Kat’s vivacious exquisiteness that refused to be overshadowed. It was like comparing a flashlight to the sun.
“Cleo was and is still very gracious. She thanked me for my honesty and admitted that she was only doing it to please Ebbe. Overall, she was grateful to me for takin’ the initiative.”
“And your grandfather?” In this day and age, Kat couldn’t even conceive the notion of an arranged marriage; however, from what she’d newly discovered of the world her father had been raised in and now, Holt, the idea wasn’t necessarily that farfetched. “I’m sure he wasn’t thrilled to learn that you’d gone behind his back.”
The change that came over Holt was instantaneous. Swiftly, the warmth in his eyes fled and his face closed into a mask of concentrated ruthlessness. “Ivar accused me of bringin’ dishonor to the family and intentionally humiliatin’ him, yadda, yadda, yadda. It’s the same song and dance guilt trip I’ve heard my entire life. Don’t hold your breath waitin’ on me to scramble around, finding a fuck to give either, Kat. There is no love lost between us.”
“Damn, I’m so sorry to hear that, baby.” She hated the tension set in his face and used her fingers to smooth it away, loving the way Holt’s eyes closed at her touch. His large hands curled around the back of her thighs, their heat seeping through the slinky fabric of her pants, branding Kat. “Was there any blowback behind your choice?”
Holt laughed dryly. “He disowned me, but that was nothin’ new. He does it every couple of years. I’d already refused to work for Falk Incorporated when I turned eighteen. But I did the dirty work. Any problems the company had, I handled.”
“The killing? Why?” It reminded Kat of Sten’s murderer. She’d hardly allowed herself to think of her ex-friend anymore. It was too convoluted, and Kat wasn’t sure she was supposed to mourn the death of someone who’d deliberately sabotaged her.
“I was chosen to. My mother represented the family and taught me everything I needed to know, and I don’t suck at it. From his children to grandchildren, they’re completely beholden to him. Except, me and my family. There is nothin’ he can do for, or to, me. I’ve been weaponized and am now considered too invaluable for them to chance crossin’.” Holt’s voice was heavy on irony. “A blessed curse is what they call me. Oh, and don’t fret too much about Ivar. Cleo’s now happily married to my older cousin Mattias, and they have a newborn son. In the end, he got the family merger he wanted but not the business one. He’s never forgiven my mother or me for thwartin’ his plans.”
“Yet, you still visit and pay your respects to them?” Kat demanded. “Why can’t you just tell them to kiss your ass and be done with it?”
Holt’s left eye ticked, and his grip on her thighs tightened imperceptibly. “It would suit me and Dad fine. He hates Ivar but loves my mother and is petrified that the sonofabitch is gonna ambush them in some other way and harm her to get back at us. He’d prefer to keep the peace.”
Understanding dawned in Kat’s eyes. “Hence, his skittish attitude tonight. It’s all starting to make sense. I think I owe him an apology for jumping down his throat.”
“No, you don’t.” Holt frowned at Kat sternly. “You were ridin’ for me! It’s what we do, and you were sexy as hell doin’ it. Please believe that I will address that when I see him next. My mother carries a shit ton of guilt toward her brother and Otto. On my grandmother’s deathbed, she asked that Mama continue to keep the peace.”
“Your poor mother,” Kat reflected. “I couldn’t imagine being on civil terms with someone who violated me
like that. I can’t even imagine your sweet, dear mother killing someone! She’s my Swedish sweets pusher, for goodness sake! We have fika together!”
Elin Brammer was kindness personified. Since her first official introduction as Holt’s girlfriend, Kat had been invited to their house to partake in the coffee/tea tradition she’d learned was an important part of Swedish culture to pause and socialize. The practice helped to refresh the brain and strengthens relationships, Elin had explained to Kat. Holt had even instilled the routine at Americana Traditions. Last week, Kat stopped by to say hi because she was going to be pulling an all-nighter. On her way out, she stopped by the break room where the employees were just finishing up their fika. Holt saw her running out the door, shoveling crumb cake in her face and guzzling her coffee because of Kat’s hurry to make deadlines. He’d looked at her with something akin to horror.
***
“So, killing people is okay but rushing through caffeine is a crime? Got it,” she grumbled under her breath when Holt led her back to the break room and made her sit down with her loot. “You’re being ridiculous! I have to go!”
“It’s a process that shouldn’t be rushed, Katerina,” he lectured with firm superiority. He pulled a chair up next to her and slipped her ankle boots off to massage her feet. Holt chuckled when Kat’s eyes rolled back in her head as she noshed on her cake and licked her fingers clean. “Yeah, I can see how much you hate it.”
“Shh! Less talking and more massaging, smart-ass,” she sighed, squealing when he bit her big toe.
They were rudely interrupted by an outraged Guy on the intercom.
“Hey! We eat there! Respect the space!”
***
“Killers have to eat too, darlin’. Me stayin’ in the picture keeps me informed as to whether Ivar is usin’ his powers for good or evil. Nonetheless, my rejection of his wealth and lifestyle will always be a bitter pill for Ivar to swallow.”
Kat could understand and respect that. Like her, Holt was self-made, choosing to forge his own way into the world instead of utilizing his powerful, influential connections. Their independent stance only made them more interesting fodder for the local and international tabloids. The paparazzi could be relentless, at times, in their efforts to capture the couple when they were trying to have an intimate moment alone when dining out or shopping at one of the local spots. This was also one of the few times Kat was grateful for the bodyguard Alexei insisted she have follow her when she was alone as he was often able to sniff them out and destroy many a camera in the process.
“What’s happening now that’s causing you and your father to be in disaccord?”
Holt shut his eyes momentarily. Christ. Being in Kat’s arms made him temporarily forget his problem at the airstrip. “The Falk jet is here.”
“Here? In Whiskey Row? Why?” An unexplainable fear took root in her heart and Kat fisted his lapels, her eyes searching his face with urgency. She’d known shit was about to go down when Rudii popped up. In this case, she hated her instincts being correct. “If they’ve flown across the world, it’s not just to say hi and bye! What do they want?”
“Sssh, baby.” Holt peeled her hands free of his jacket’s wrinkled fabric and cupped her face, kissing Kat persuasively. “Listen to me; everything’s gonna be fine. They’re requestin’ my attendance in Sweden, but my mind is made up. I’m just goin’ to talk to them and give my answer face-to-face.”
No.
Just. Hell. No.
They couldn’t have him. Everything was finally getting back to normal, and marriage and their future were on the table! Kat tried to swallow, but the tightness in her throat prohibited it. Somehow, she managed to croak, “Holt, we’re barely getting started—”
“Darlin’, stop! This is the only time you’ll hear me say this: you’ve been on my mind long before it could even be considered appropriate. I’m done waitin’ to make us official,” Holt growled with finality. “There is nothin’ they can say or do that will persuade me otherwise.”
Kat’s relief was palpable as her arms encircled Holt’s waist, listening to his virile heartbeat thumping comfortingly underneath her ear. Her earlier doubts regarding marriage now seemed silly in the grand scheme of things. This conversation put things in sharp clarity and perspective. She wanted them, and no one was going to keep them apart. Fuck Ivar and his demands. Kat paused, recalling Holt’s words, her mind retrieving a vital piece of information he’d just revealed.
“I have another question in which I need for you to level with me.” Kat angled her head and painstakingly scrutinized Holt. “Exactly how long have I been in your inappropriate thoughts?”
“Uh-uh. You’re gonna want to leave that one alone.” With a rueful shake of his head, he murmured, “There are some things that are better left unsaid, darlin’.”
“Try me,” she boldly challenged, laughter bubbling on her lips.
Holt finally allowed Kat to freely see the internal conflict waging within. The intensity carved into his face and the way his breathing roughened as he filled his lungs with her fragrance, making the laughter die in Kat’s throat. He was satisfied when her lovely, feline eyes widened with awareness, the pulse at her throat thumping spastically, like a maddening techno beat. Holt’s callused thumb pad grazed over her jawline until it met the irresistible curves of her plush mouth and entered it. Immediately, Kat’s eyelids fell half-mast, her lips closing over the thick digit with a hum of pleasure that made his cock jerk violently.
Transfixed by the change in her, Holt smiled wickedly when Kat’s tongue swirled around his thumb suggestively, conjuring up the image of her lips sucking him into a vortex of mindless bliss. Of her bowing, arching, and bending any way Holt manipulated her as she yielded to him and his insatiable demands willingly. He could see the devilry lurking in her eyes and ate that shit up, knowing that they were on the same wavelength. Dirty minds were great ones that did, indeed, think alike. Kat was perfection. A good girl with an affinity for sinning. The seamless balance of siren and innocent. As her man, it was Holt’s job to help her maintain it. To make sure Kat’s halo never tarnished. Knocked crooked? Fuck, yeah! Any chance Holt could get her alone and writhe shamelessly for mercy on his dick, fingers, and mouth.
But never stained.
Heads would roll before he ever allowed that shit to happen.
Literally.
Still, Holt couldn’t resist divulging. “All I’ll say is that I stalked your Facebook and Instagram pages religiously. Your brothers and daddy would slowly take me apart, piece-by-piece, if they knew the real deal. Trust me, darlin’, you’d cry a river if they messed up anythin’ below my waist before we got to our wedding night.”
“Are you offering me a sample?”
Holt’s chuckle was strained with the desire he was trying to imprison. “Nah, love. We’re waitin’.”
Kat stamped her foot with a pout, sexual frustration evident in the taut lines of her curvaceous body. “Then stop with the mixed signals, man! This is a hate crime!”
Holt’s eyebrow arched, and he licked his lips, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. “The hell are you talkin’ bout, woman? All I’m doin’ is keepin’ it real with you.”
“I’m talking about you purposely depriving me! You’re saying no, but your voice is saying ‘Fuck me’,” she whispered into his ear and bit his lobe, tugging on it with her teeth. Kat took perverse pleasure in his tortured grunt.
“You want it just as bad as I do!” Incensed, she pulled back, tapping her pursed lips with her fingernail and examined Holt through narrowed eyes. “You are driving me bonkers with this “Forty-Year-Old Virgin” routine! You’re not the only one in this relationship! I represent the struggle, which is too real, by the way! I’m done with you calling all the shots, Holton.”
“Check you out, you fuckin’ rebel, you. I gotta give it to you for persistence.” Holt laughed directly in her outraged face. She was too fucking adorable all fired up. He reeled her stiff form back into his arms. “How
ever, I’ve practiced the art of patience for far too long when it comes to you, and I’m willing to make a one-time exception. Come here, baby. Let me give you somethin’ to take the edge off.”
Annoyance turned to anticipation and Kat’s body hummed with it. Holt peeled her suit jacket from her body and tossed it on the work table behind her. Fingers wrapping around his thick, soft tresses, Kat held on for dear life. His hands slid up to palm her booty, possessively gripping handfuls while his breath skittered across the swells of her breasts, pushed up enticingly by her corset. Their eyes clashed as his tongue slid out to trace the generous curves. His touch kindled a heatwave in the center of Kat’s belly that spread throughout her body like an inferno and traveled south to lap at her engorged clit.
“I think you need this corset in every color. Where’d you get it from?” Holt whispered.
“Feminine Intuition,” Kat moaned, preoccupied with watching the tip of his tongue dipping into her cleavage. “I’ll be sure to pass your approval on to Georgina…”
His eyes gleamed with approval. “Please do and as I said; every color.”
“You’re driving me crazy, babe…”
“Quit actin’ like you’re in this alone, baby! It’s a two-way street. I know your frustration. It’s mine, too,” Holt roughly confessed, watching the untamable goddess above him through eyes glazed with lust. “You’re a virgin and I respect that about you and your virtue. You make it so damn hard for me to keep my hands to myself when all I want to do is sink into your pussy and feel you takin’ me until I go blind. I’m goin’ to see this through, the right way, until the end. You will be a virgin on your weddin’ night.”
Holt used his teeth to tug at the bow nestled in her cleavage. Once undone, the corset loosened, and Kat’s fingers raked through his scalp as she arched her back in silent permission, granting him full access. “You have no fuckin’ clue about how long I’ve wanted you…waited for you to see me…”
