All In (11 page)

“It's Michel's. He loves flashy things like this. At the moment, I guess I can't blame him.”

“No, it's wonderful,” she said.

The words hung between them.

David turned his head again. He surveyed the clean, classic features of her face and her strong, slender neck before continuing downward. He caught a glimpse of her small, hard nipples through the almost transparent fabric of her blouse. The sight sent a wave of desire coursing through him before he also noticed that Natalia had goose bumps and realized that she was probably more cold than drowning in desire for him.

He wasn't as smart as he thought, he realized, sitting up.

 

Natalia watched David get up from their little picnic. With her hand over her eyes, she watched him while he quickly and efficiently gathered up the leftovers.

“Stay here,” he said. “I'll be right back.” He disappeared into the cabin, and she sat up. She rubbed her arms. It was much colder now.

She heard him rummaging around down there for a bit before he came back up.

He'd put on a thick sweater and held out a similar one to her. “I'm brewing coffee. I hope you saved room for dessert.”

Natalia pulled on the sweater, which was much too big, and snuggled into the warmth. “Thank you,” she said.

David went back down and returned with a thermos under his arm and two coffee cups and a cooler in his hands. He opened the cooler and looked inside.

“What's that?” Natalia asked.

“I have no idea,” he said, pulling out a cup with a lid. “Believe it or not,” he continued, his voice full of mirth, “but desserts are one of the exceedingly few realms that I have yet to fully master. I don't remember buying this.”

“Give it to me.”

Natalia took the cup, opened it, sniffed it, and said, “Tiramisu.”

“Is that good?” he asked.

“Very,” she said, pleased.

David passed her a spoon and then unscrewed the lid of the thermos. The scent of coffee spread across the deck. She received a plump little mug full of pitch-black coffee and dug into the dessert. “I'm going to get fat if I keep going like this,” she said without thinking.

David raised his eyebrows over his coffee cup, and Natalia bit her lip.

David took a spoon and made a satisfied face. “This is good.” He took a few more spoonfuls, eating quickly, efficiently. Then he lay down on his side again, stretched out his legs, and cupped his hands around his coffee cup. “So, what do you do when you're not working?” he asked.

Natalia took small sips of the hot coffee while she thought the question over. As a child she'd had dance. And for a long while horseback riding had been everything to her. She still loved to ride, but now . . . She heard David laugh softly and looked at him. “What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “But you always do that when you're asked a question: stop and contemplate.”

“I'm not a rash, impulsive person,” she replied.

“No,” he said. “But that's why you're such a good corporate banker. And I like watching you think.”

“Well, like you, I work a lot,” she said. “My job is important to me. I'm not particularly interested in fashion or homemaking,” she continued. “And I can't even remember the last time I went to the movies.” She furrowed her brow. It was pathetic when she thought about it. “I loved horseback riding when I was younger, and I still do,” she continued thoughtfully as she tried to remember what her interests actually were. “I'm really fond of handbags and ...” She stopped herself in time, but David had seen her falter.

“Tsk tsk, Natalia, you have a secret,” he teased. “Do tell.”

She lay down on her side. With her head propped up on her palm, she buried herself in the sweater. “I'm really stuffed,” she said.

“Don't change the topic,” he said.

“I'm sure you're an expert at wheedling information out of people that they would prefer not to share.”

He nodded smugly.

“I don't usually discuss my, uh, private interests with men.” She closed her eyes. “I can't believe I'm considering telling you this, but I collect French underwear. I buy it online. It's very expensive and completely irrational. Most of it isn't even wearable.”

She opened her eyes.

David was studying her intently. “Tell me more things that make you blush. You're very attractive, in a non-corporate-finance way, when you're blushing.”

Natalia shook her head. She reached for the thermos as an excuse to avoid looking at him. “I think that's enough of a revelation for tonight,” she said. “Your turn.”

“Hmm, what do you want to know?”

Natalia cocked her head, and they looked at each other over the remains of their picnic. Oh, there was a lot she wanted to know. Why had he asked her out? What wasn't he telling her about his past? What was that coldness she glimpsed in him sometimes all about? And most of all, of course: did he think they would be having sex with each other in the near future?

“What would you have done if you didn't do what you do now?” she asked instead.

“I think I'd sail around the world. Give up the Internet, read books.” He laughed. “Maybe learn to cook.”

“You can't cook?”

“Can you?” he dared her.

“I opened a jar of pickles the other day. Does that count?”

His eyes twinkled. “I don't think so.”

“What did you do during your military service?” she asked. “I have two brothers, but you know, strangely enough, I've never asked them.”

“Romp around outdoors, get chewed out, work like a dog,” he said. “But I actually liked it. We followed orders, got a lot of exercise, slept well at night.” He fell silent.

She listened to the waves lapping. She heard a dog barking somewhere onshore.

He turned to her, raised himself up on his elbows. “Are you still cold?” he asked. “Should I go get a blanket?”

Natalia slowly shook her head.

David looked into her eyes. He reached out his hand and she held her breath. He grazed her pearl necklace with his fingers and she blinked. He fingered the heavy clasp, which had slid to the front. “What kind of pattern is this?” he asked.

She swallowed, trying to sound casual despite his fingers brushing over the base of her throat. A finger caressed her collarbone, almost absentmindedly. “The family crest,” she said, her pulse racing under his fingertips. “My brothers each wear it on their signet rings. I wear it on the clasp of my necklace.”

“Because you have a title? You're a countess?”

“Yes.”

She couldn't interpret the expression on his face. He was staring at the heavy gold clasp as if it meant something. Then he looked at her again, without taking his hand away. He leaned forward but stopped. And Natalia surprised herself. She moved her own hand behind his head, impatient and bold. They came together over the remains of their picnic, and he kissed her lightly, no more than a flutter over her lips. He lingered a second or two, warm and a little rough.

Natalia tried to think clearly, but felt only desire. There was no,
no
reason not to do this. It was as if she'd been waiting her whole life for this, she thought, to be kissed on an ostentatious yacht in the middle of the archipelago by David Hammar, who tasted like tiramisu.

Then he kissed her again, his hand on the collar of her sweater; he spread out his fingers and palm until they covered her breast. She met his tongue eagerly, raised herself up toward him, pressing herself into his hand and mouth and tongue. It had been a long time since she'd felt something like this, this
hunger
, if she ever had.

David moved, and porcelain clanked beneath them. He pulled away from her.

“Not here,” he said, shaking his head.

“Should we go down below?” Natalia asked in a hoarse voice, shocking herself.

Nice girls were passive, not active. That's what her mother, her girlfriends, everyone had imprinted on her, but it felt like advice from the nineteenth century. She wanted this so much, wanted to feel his hands on her skin, feel him moving above her, in her. And he seemed at least equally interested. Or had she misread him?

“No, we'll go back,” he said.

Rejection. God, how humiliating.

“Believe it or not, I didn't plan on our doing anything more than having a picnic today. This isn't even my boat,” he said, smiling apologetically. “I didn't bring any protection. Did you?”

“No,” she said, wondering if she could just die of shame on the spot.

“We'll go back before it gets dark.” He held out his hand. After a brief hesitation, she slid her hand into his. She followed him in silence, trying not to notice how unbelievably
intimate
it felt to hold his hand.

After David pulled up the anchor, he turned to her, gave her a serious look, and then started the boat with a few quick motions. He turned them out of the bay and let out the gas so the motor roared.

Natalia didn't realize how cold she was until he pulled her into the space between his body and the wheel. She slid into his heat and stopped shivering, stopped anything, just stopped, lost in the sensation of being enveloped by him with the sound of the motor in her ears. He sped up, and with a deafening rumble they bounced over the waves, heading back into Stockholm as twilight sank in around them. Now and then David's cheek brushed her hair, and Natalia wanted to turn around, wanted them to kiss again, but she didn't dare take the lead anymore. She didn't know if she was imagining it or if the mood between them really had changed. She wasn't even sure that she wanted to know.

They pulled up to Nybro Quay. David throttled the engine, hopped ashore, moored the boat, and then held out his hand to her. As soon as she was on solid ground, he let go. They didn't say anything to each other, and the silence was impossible to read.

“I'll take you home,” he said tersely, confusing her even more.

They crossed Strandvägen Boulevard in silence. The murmur of voices from all the outdoor restaurant seating faded away as they turned onto her quiet street.

When they stopped outside her front door, Natalia asked, “Did I do something wrong?” Even though she had planned to sound cool and composed, her voice was weak.

Åsa wouldn't stand for this. She would want to know where she stood. But Natalia had never known and didn't have any experience to fall back on.

“Is
that
what you think?” he asked.

Natalia shrugged. The door was just behind her, and she was starting to feel tired and annoyed, as if all the energy had drained out of her. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she just wanted to slip inside, hurry upstairs, and bury her head in a sofa cushion.

David looked at her for a long time.

“What?” she asked testily when the silence started getting on her nerves. Damn it, he was hard to read.

“I was unbelievably self-serving in the beginning,” he said suddenly, and it took a moment to realize he was talking about his career, not about them.

“Venture capitalism is not a line of work that values fair play,” he continued. “I'm not a gentle or a nice person.”

“I grew up with moneymen; I've been in that world since I was a baby. Don't you think I
know
that?” she said. Her father was hard, her brother was hard. She
got
that David was no softy.

David slowly raised his hand and then lightly rested it on her cheek. He stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. And then he kissed her.

How could a kiss, just one kiss, be so different from all other kisses?

She heard a sound, unsure whether it had come from her or him, and then his arm came around her waist, and then there wasn't anything gentle about the kiss, no hesitation, nothing tentative. It was hard and urgent. His leg pressed into her thigh, pushing her backward against the rough façade of the building.

“Would you like to come up?” she whispered.

He stared at her, his chest heaving. Natalia held her breath.

“Yes,” he said.

14

H
e refused to feel sorry about it. He'd warned her, told her who and what he was. She'd asked if he wanted to come up, he'd said yes, and he was
not
going to change his mind.

They stood in silence, looking at each other as the aging, creaking elevator took them to the top floor. Neither of them spoke. He watched Natalia's breasts moving beneath the thick sweater. Her face was serious. The elevator stopped, and David held the door open for her. She took a key out of her purse and unlocked the front door. She stepped to the side and opened her mouth to say something, but David took her face in his hands and kissed her. He had been struggling with himself the whole way. He hadn't been lying when he said he hadn't planned this. It was a weekday. He knew she worked hard and took her work seriously. He had to get up early in the morning himself. He hadn't been lying.

Or had he?

This was an unbelievably bad idea. He was supposed to be breaking his ties with her, not getting to know her better. But the battle within him had already been lost. Maybe he hadn't put up much of a fight. Maybe he'd never wanted anything other than to follow the poised, graceful Natalia De la Grip home and make love to her.

One night, only one night. Surely that wouldn't matter?

He kissed her again, hard, so that she panted against his mouth. He slid a hand behind her head, and closed the door with his other hand. And they stood like that in her dark entryway, him with his hand still in her hair, her with her back and palms pressed against the wall as if she were unsure what she wanted.

She was like a pale shadow in the dark entryway. “Let down your hair,” he said hoarsely. Natalia pulled on the pins that were still holding up the loose, windswept knot. One by one she took the hairpins out, and he heard the delicate clink each one made as it fell onto the stone floor. Her hair cascaded down her back as she shook it free. David ran his eyes over her, and then without taking his gaze off her, he ordered: “Take off the pearls.”

She obeyed in silence, slowly undoing the necklace, pulling off her earrings, and setting them on top of the hall cabinet. Her neck was slender and white.

“Good,” he said.

He put a hand on her hip. Her body trembled and she exhaled heavily. Just the sound of her excited breathing would be enough to make him come. But he wanted to come inside her, dominate that strong body, make her cry out much louder than any of these stifled gasps. He pulled her to him.

“It's been a long time for me, David. I don't know . . .” she said, leaning against his chest. He brought her hips tighter against his. She pushed herself against him. He was so ready.

“Arms up,” he said and she obeyed again. He pulled the oversized sweater off her, tossed it onto the floor. With his palms low on her back, he drew her to him again, pushing himself into her, letting her feel how hard he was.

“I've been thinking about this all evening,” he said, knowing that was the truth. “You were so sexy on the boat.” He moved a hand to the opening of her blouse and spread out his fingers over her breast. The ribs under her thin skin were so slender, so delicate. He tugged on the silk fabric and one button came off. It was covered with fabric and disappeared without a sound. He caressed the side of her neck, curling his fingers lightly around the side of it, let a thumb slide along her jawline. He felt her pulse racing. Her eyes widened, watching him seriously.

He shook his head. “Don't think.” With one hand he carefully took hold of her chin, and she gasped as his mouth covered her own. He kissed her. She whimpered and put her hand on his chest, as if to stop him.

He stopped. “What?” he said. Had he misjudged her?

“This is moving so fast. I don't know you, not really.” She breathed in short bursts, searching his face. “Who are you?”

“I'm no one, Natalia,” he said, slowly bringing his hand to her hair. “Just a man who really wants to make love with you tonight.” He hadn't meant to frighten her. “Don't be scared,” he murmured quietly, stroking her hair.

Her breathing was audible in the silent apartment. She moved uneasily in his embrace. It was dark in the entryway, and her golden eyes were almost black. He put his hand over hers, the one that was still resting like a gentle restraint against his chest.

“I want you, Natalia,” he said. “What do you want?”

Natalia's lip curled slightly and he felt her relax a little.

“I don't usually do this,” she said and then grimaced. “Maybe I shouldn't have said that.” She smiled. “Even if it's the truth.”

“That doesn't matter,” David responded with a wink. “Because I do it all the time.”

She laughed and then smiled, genuinely and almost boldly. She said, “I invited you up. I want this. And I have, um, protection.”

She put both her hands on his chest and slid in against him. David looked at the top of her head, her dark hair as she leaned against his chest, smelled the exotic scent of spices and some kind of wood.

He didn't need to feel guilty, he told himself. Natalia wanted this. They were adults; this was just sex, nothing more. She had said it herself: they didn't know each other. They could share one night without it affecting them on any deeper level. They would both enjoy it. It was completely uncomplicated. In her apartment they were just a man and a woman, nothing more. And he really wanted to make it good for her.

He slowly bent down—giving her a chance to pull away if she wanted. But Natalia tipped her face up and eagerly answered his kiss this time, pressing against him and throwing her arms around his neck. If she'd been afraid before, that had subsided now, he thought, meeting her hungry mouth, her bold kisses. She was a passionate woman, animated in his embrace.

He ran his fingers through her dark hair. It was as soft as mink fur and long, much longer than he'd thought. He gathered up a fistful and gently pulled her head back. She moaned, a muffled sound well back in her throat, and his body responded reflexively and intensely. With his hand still buried in her hair, he scanned the enormous entry hall. He preferred to think of himself as somewhat more sophisticated than a man who had sex with a woman just inside her front door. “Show me the rest of the place,” he said.

Natalia looked at him, her eyes smoldering, her lips slightly swollen. Then she took his hand in her own cool one. She led him down the hall, and he smiled at how easily she took charge. She was used to deciding, to being in control. It was going to be an interesting night.

They passed doors, paintings, and mirrors. And more doors.

“How big
is
this place?” he asked, stifling a laugh.

She turned a corner and then stepped out into an enormous living room. Extremely tall, open French doors led onto a balcony. This room was just as dark as the rest of the apartment, and cool air poured in.

“I can close the doors,” Natalia offered.

“No,” he said. “I want to see the view.”

They stepped out onto the balcony together.

She had a view of both DjurgÃ¥rden, the vast green area belonging to the king, and the DjurgÃ¥rdsbrunn Canal down by Strandvägen Boulevard. When she shivered, he pulled her toward him. He caressed one breast through her thin blouse. She had small, sensitive breasts, and with a shudder, she closed her eyes. He kissed her again while he started unbuttoning her slacks. When he pulled the zipper down, her breathing sped up. He slid his hand over the gentle dome of her stomach and she pushed herself against him. He ran his finger along the thin edge of her panties. Her panties were so sheer that he could have easily torn them. He caressed her through the lace. She was warm and damp. She was wet. He pulled away the cloth, slid in a finger. She wasn't waxed, which he liked. “You're so hot,” he whispered and playfully bit her earlobe.

Natalia moaned at his touch and pushed herself against his hand.

“Where do you keep them?” he asked.

“I'll get them,” she said. “Wait here.”

He stepped back into the living room. Her two sofas were long and deep, her décor tasteful and antique, surely inherited.

She came back, her slender body glowing inside her half-open silk blouse. She had taken off her slacks, and her legs were powerful and extremely pale. She held out her hand and passed him the thin box with an embarrassed smile. He studied it. It hardly looked like it had been opened. Apparently she really meant it that she didn't do this very often. He wondered if she'd been with anyone since her fiancé. He tried to remember how long it had been since that relationship ended. A year ago? The information he'd read about her hadn't mentioned any new love interests.

They cooperated to undo the last of the fabric-covered buttons on her blouse before he swept it off her. She was wearing a lacy bra underneath, a glossy little number that he thought must be one of the expensive ones she collected.

“You undo it,” he said, afraid he would damage the thin fabric if he tried to do it.

Natalia brought her hands behind her back and undid the hooks. She watched him hesitantly, her hands over the fabric and her breasts. But he was impatient now. Her coyness set his blood racing.

“I want to see,” he commanded. “Move your hands.”

Slowly she complied. She had small but perfectly rounded breasts, with small, dark nipples. “You're unbelievably beautiful,” he said hoarsely. When he placed his hand over one small breast, his palm covered it completely. He moved his hand, caressing her, and she moaned hoarsely. God, how he loved women with sensitive breasts.

She started untucking his T-shirt and they took it off together. He placed his hands on her upper arms while she ran her hands over his torso. Her hands were delicate, and he closed his eyes as she explored his body.

It seemed to happen so fast, he was caught off guard when she leaned forward and ran her hands around behind his back. He didn't have a chance to stop her, and now he didn't want to make a big deal about it. But he stiffened under her touch, steeling himself. He never let anyone touch him there.

Natalia's brow wrinkled. She ran her hand questioningly over the roughness on his back, and he could feel her trying to make sense of what her fingertips were feeling. But he didn't say anything, didn't want her to understand. He pulled away. “Not now,” he said, fending off her questions.

She gave him a curious look. “But David, you . . .”

He held onto her shoulders and cautiously pushed her back. “Not now.”

Natalia blinked. “Okay,” she said quietly.

He studied her, standing there. She was a fascinating mix of modesty and sensuality. She was slim, but still curvy with her rounded belly, her narrow waist, and her soft hips.

He undressed himself until he was naked. Her eyes widened, and then she quickly pulled off her panties and stepped into his arms.

Her skin was smooth, like polished ivory, soft as silk. He held her head and kissed her. She pushed against him, and he lifted her one leg and placed it around his hip. Somehow they ended up on the sofa, him half lying on his back, her astride him. He found the condom package, opened it, and quickly slid one on.

They looked into each other's eyes, and then he lifted her up by the hips, grasped her, and took her in a single motion. Natalia fell forward onto his chest with a shout, inhaling in a gasp. Her dark hair fell around him like a scented silk curtain.

David lifted her head and looked into her foggy eyes. “Is this alright?” he asked with difficulty. He'd almost come. She was hot and wet, but she was small and tight, and the friction and the sight were almost overwhelming.

Natalia nodded. “Just let me get used to it,” she said faintly. “It's really been a while.”

David took hold of her buttocks, one hand around each cheek, and lifted her carefully upward. She put a hand on his chest, the other on his thigh behind her. Slowly, with his eyes locked on hers, he let her slide down again, seeing in her eyes how he filled her. She was breathing heavily, and he repeated the motion until she too adopted the rhythm.

“Wonderful,” he said, his voice muffled, seeing that she was far away. She slowly closed her eyes and let her head fall back until her dark hair grazed his legs. Up and down, with slippery, wet sounds, moans and whimpers.

David came.

Without style or consideration, he exploded. It happened so fast, and he wasn't able to stop himself, so instead he took a firm hold of her hips—she would have marks from his fingers, he thought foggily—and held her down until he filled her and held her there and just came in wave after pulsing wave. He closed his eyes and collapsed back onto the sofa.

When he opened his eyes again, the living room was still dark. His eyes had adjusted, though, and he saw her clearly. With her long hair and those big eyes, she looked young and vulnerable. And sexy as hell. She moved her legs, and he realized she was still on top of him, that he was still inside her. It had been totally amazing for him, but he had left her unsatisfied.

He grimaced. “I'm sorry,” he said.

“For what?” she asked.

But David knew that she hadn't experienced the same climax he had. So much for pleasuring
her
. He stroked her thigh. “Normally, I'm able to control myself better,” he said, sounding pained. “I don't know what happened.”

She started squirming. “It doesn't matter,” she said half-heartedly.

David shook his head.

He lifted her off and gently laid her down on the soft sofa. He took a pillow and placed it under her head. He brushed her hair to the side, leaned down, and kissed her, tenderly this time. Chilly air was still streaming in from the French doors, so he retrieved a throw from an armchair, kissed both her nipples, and then spread it over her.