All In (16 page)

David's deep laughter, so outrageously sexy, the images of what they'd just done, aroused her again. She studied his body, realizing that just now it was insatiable. Could two people really have chemistry like this? Silly question, clearly they could.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I think I'm dead.”

“Is there anything to eat in this evil venture capitalist's lair?” she asked.

She was ferociously hungry, famished. It was very draining to be a sex goddess.

 

They ate well-seasoned little tapas-like things, turnovers and pies and rolls that smelled and tasted exotic.

“My cleaning lady's husband is a Persian chef,” David explained. “They live in the building and look after my apartment for me,” he said. “She cleans and does the laundry; he gives me leftovers.”

“These are some leftovers,” she said.

As the evening cooled down, David led her to his bedroom one floor down, where they made love again. He was tender and rough. And then considerate and then forceful again. She was insatiable and smiled at the thought that she, Natalia De la Grip, was going to be stiff and sore tomorrow, from sex.

Afterward she lay completely still in his bed. All the bedding was clean and smelled nice, ironed and luxurious.

“This is the best bed in the whole world,” she murmured.

He lay next to her, stroking her skin. He pulled down the sheet she had just pulled up to her chin. He studied her body as if she were a painting, a work of art. She lifted her hand and ran one finger down his upper arm. He was so muscular, and he made her feel so sublimely feminine.

“Did you always know you wanted to work in corporate finance?” he asked, and started stroking her hair, disentangling as he separated the locks across the pillow.

“I decided in London.” She lay still, letting him attend to her. From time to time he kissed her, on the arm, on the shoulder.

“After the School of Economics?”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes. After she got her degree, she had worked in New York for a year as a consultant. After that she had gone to Philadelphia and gotten an MBA from Wharton, the school that had educated some of the world's leading financial minds. And then the whole world had been open to her. She knew that David had gone to Harvard. But while her father had paid for her education, David must have paid his own way. She had never wondered what an education like that cost, never really thought about how much she had gotten for free.

“And then?” David's voice was just a low, sensual murmur, and she realized she had drifted off. Her hair was now spread out around her.

She opened her eyes. “The Bank of London headhunted me.”

“They only recruit the best.”

“Yes.”

She had put in a few dog years in London, along with other promising young finance people. They worked around the clock, were owned by the bank, could be sent anywhere in the world at one hour's notice. A lot of them had jumped ship, fed up with the inhuman demands, but she'd loved it, loved finally being able to utilize all her abilities, being encouraged, being challenged, feeling like she was good at what she did. “I'm sure you know that more than ninety percent of the corporate finance world is men, right?” she said.

“No,” he said, sliding his finger all the way from her neck down to her stomach. “I thought there was more gender equality than that.”

“It starts out very equal, but the women disappear as you go along.”

“Some people say that's because women are too smart to want to work that much,” he said, lifting her hand and kissing her fingers, one by one.

“And other people say it's because women can't deal with hard work by their very nature,” she retorted. “That what they want most of all is someone to take care of them.”

She wondered how many times she'd heard her father say those exact words. And her mother always nodded in agreement. And said that gender equality had gone too far when women wanted to be exactly the same as men. And that that was why Jonas had left her, because she worked like a man.

“That's bullshit,” David said. “The best women work twice as hard as the best men. It's going to change. I met some smart girls when I was teaching at the School of Economics. And more and more companies are waking up to the idea that women constitute a recruiting base they can't afford to overlook.”

David sounded as if everything he was saying was irrefutable, and something happened in Natalia as she realized she had never before talked to a man who actually, truly thought the way she did, who didn't distinguish between female and male. It was a huge turn-on.

“When I was growing up, I used to love to talk about business and the family company,” she said. “I used to force my brothers to debate different strategies for Investum. They hated it.”

David picked up her hand and smelled her palm. “And why aren't you working at Investum now?” he murmured.

“I want to prove myself first on my own merits,” she replied mechanically.

He turned her hand over, kissed the back of it, nibbling a little. “And then you came back to Stockholm.” He smiled. “Two years ago.”

Natalia nodded; that information was no secret, just required a little Googling.

“J-O was hired on here to lead the Swedish office, and he brought me along.” She'd moved from her apartment in London, which she'd shared with people she hardly ever saw because she spent so much of her time working and traveling. She and Jonas had gotten engaged in London; he'd commuted by plane from Sweden.

“My fiancé at the time lived in Stockholm.”

“Not now?”

She turned her head to look at him. “Uh, no. I wouldn't be here if there was someone else.” That question worried her a little. She had assumed David was single, but now she remembered with discomfort that she'd seen a picture in a gold frame of a beautiful blonde in his living room, a very attractive woman with the arm of a happy-looking David Hammar around her shoulders. It was common knowledge that David didn't have any family. Apparently he'd had a sister, but she'd died young in some accident, and his parents were dead. So who was that blond woman? And who—or what—was Natalia, herself, to him? Was she just David Hammar's little summer vacation fling while his beautiful blonde was off doing—what?

Natalia furrowed her brow. It shouldn't bother her this much. She hadn't done anything wrong and they hadn't agreed on anything more than just this: insanely good sex. If David had a little affair, that certainly wasn't her problem. But it actually did feel like a problem. How dumb could she be? Why hadn't she at least asked?

“What is it?” David asked.

“Nothing.”

“No, you went somewhere else there for a second. Tell me.” He watched her seriously.

She took a deep breath. Might as well say it. “I don't sleep around,” she said. “And I hate infidelity. I don't know what this is between us, maybe it's just sex and maybe we don't need to talk about it. Maybe we don't need to say this, but . . . I'm not sleeping with anyone else.”

David rested his head on his hand. He had beautiful eyes. Everything about him was stunning. Like a model. Although he was much more muscular, more like a construction worker. The girls at the boarding school must have been crazy about him.

“Natalia,” he said, and then waited until their eyes met. “What the two of us have, I've never had with anyone else. I don't sleep around. Not more than any other guy, probably less. I don't know what this is, but I'm not seeing anyone else right now, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And I'm not very fond of infidelity either,” he added, gently running his hand over her forehead.

“Okay,” she said, feeling ridiculously happy. She blinked and then suddenly yawned. “What time is it actually?” It was almost dark, and suddenly she felt completely drained.

“You must be tired,” he said.

“I can't stay. I have to go home, change, pick up some things.”

“I understand.” He ran his hand over her hair, traced her eyebrow with a finger. God in heaven, that felt so good. She yawned again. She was really worn-out, physically and mentally.

“Stay,” he said softly. “Don't go. Sleep for a bit. I can wake you up early if you want.”

It was so tempting. And he did something with his voice, made it deeper and soothing, convincing, caring.

“Early,” she said. “I can't go in late two days in a row.”

“I promise.”

Two seconds later she was asleep.

 

David kept his promise. He woke her so early that the dawn air coming in through the open window still smelled of dew. He was dressed in a T-shirt and light-colored slacks, and was freshly shaved, with his breath smelling of mint. He served her coffee, hot and strong, which she drank in bed. She took a long shower, pulled on her wrinkled clothes, and padded down to the kitchen. He buttered a slice of toast for her, refilled her coffee, and watched her skim the business section. Then he called for a car, handed her her purse, and said good-bye at the door. A firm hug, a quick kiss, and fifteen minutes later she was home in her own entryway.

19

 

D
avid walked around his apartment after Natalia left. The memory of her laughter and their incredible sex lingered like an echo or a scent.

He hadn't planned on this happening, and it couldn't continue. This was pure insanity. The countdown continued around the clock.

Through dummy corporations and brokers, he and HC now owned enough Investum shares that someone
must
be starting to wonder. So many unknown shareholders, so much activity—it really should be setting off alarms, summer holidays or not. There couldn't be more than a week, ten days max, before someone raised a red flag. It didn't matter. They had known it would show up on the radar sooner or later. But with only twelve days left, less than two weeks, before they went public in the press, what he had just done was insane. Although it didn't
feel
insane.

It felt fucking fantastic.

David stopped in the living room. He looked at the photo in the gold frame. He hadn't thought about that. Had Natalia seen it? Had she wondered?

Probably. He should have realized when she'd started talking about infidelity.

There was so much he couldn't tell her, that she wouldn't understand, and that made him feel dirty, unworthy.

He liked Natalia; she wasn't some interchangeable stranger. She was a good person and an astoundingly, unbelievably sexy woman. Whom he couldn't seem to break up with even though there were so many reasons that he should.

He grazed the happy blonde's face with one finger. He had to call her, call Carolina; she was already mad that he'd pulled away. He had to take back control. This craziness with Natalia had to end.

That was the only right move.

Fuck.

20

 

“W
e're not together, but we're sleeping with each other,” Natalia said, straightening in her saddle. Her chestnut mare, Lovely, nickered softly. “So I actually have no idea. Is this how things work these days?”

Åsa, who was already seated in her saddle, her back straight, securely holding the reins of her light-gray horse, said, “You weren't born in the fifties, were you? Yes, this is how things work these days. In the twenty-first century. You test your way forward, step by step. Or sleep together and move on.”

Natalia adjusted her position on her horse. She found this all terribly confusing. She peered around the countryside. The sheep were in the meadow with their lambs. The water glittered beyond the fields and pastureland. The yellow castle was to their right.

Peter and his wife had offered them an aperitif of sherry on the terrace before the meal, but Åsa and Natalia had been graciously permitted to go for a ride instead.

“When did people start doing things this way?” Natalia asked, urging Lovely on.

“He's still good in bed?” Åsa asked over her shoulder.

“Extremely.”

“Can he carry on a conversation?”

“He's unparalleled. I've never met his match.”

“Natalia, sweetie, can't you just wait and see where this goes?'

“I guess. I mean, it's not like I have any choice.”

Natalia and David hadn't seen each other since she'd gone home Wednesday morning. It was Saturday now. David had sent her one message, but it had been a courteous, downright impersonal text message. Natalia had replied, and then he'd texted that he was going to be traveling for a few days. She hadn't asked where he was going, they hadn't been in touch, the weekend had arrived, and she was more confused than ever. Was it over now?

“Every time we see each other I get the feeling it's the last time. And then he contacts me and is totally amazing, and I have no idea what's going on.”

“You're suddenly very dramatic,” Åsa said. “You're not PMSing or something, are you?” Åsa was wearing a brand-new riding outfit and thus totally breaking with the age-old aristocratic custom of wearing worn, old clothing. She bought shiny new clothes and didn't give a hoot what people said about it.

“If you ask my family, I have PMS all the time,” Natalia said bitterly and glanced up at the yellow façade. Gyllgarn was so beautiful, emotion caught in her chest when she looked at it. It had been in the family for three hundred years. Kings had slept in its rooms. Natalia had spent some of her best times here with the horses and animals and with the children who lived in the area. Peter had taken over running the place last year when he married Louise.

The whole family was here today, aside from Alexander, of course. Peter and Louise, Mom and Dad, and then Åsa, who was a member of the family in so many ways. Åsa's mother and Natalia's mother had been childhood friends, and their daughters—Åsa and Natalia—had become fast friends despite the four-year age difference. When Åsa's family died in a head-on collision, the then teenaged Åsa had moved into the De la Grip household. She had lived in the guest room, cried in Natalia's armchair, and snuck alcohol from the liquor cabinet. And now Åsa worked for Natalia's father. And joined them for dinner a few times a month, either out here at the family seat or at Natalia's parents' place in Djursholm.

“Hey, can I stay with you in BÃ¥stad?” Natalia asked. “J-O ordered me to go, but I can't live with my parents. Alex is coming and he always gets the guest room. And Louise is going to be tramping around in the flower beds, as usual, tallying up what she's going to inherit next.”

“Louise has to be the most disagreeable person I've ever met,” Åsa agreed. “Not even Peter deserves to be married to a battle-ax like that. Weird that she hasn't managed to get pregnant yet.” Åsa fell silent and then gave Natalia an apologetic look. “Sorry,” she said quickly. “That was insensitive. Just for that you can stay in my guesthouse. That can be your little love nest. Is he going?”

“David? I have no idea.”

“Wonder if he's bringing his thick-headed partner with him?”

“Oh my God, you two still haven't seen each other?”

“Why would we see each other? Did you hear something? Did David say something?”

“Why don't you just call him?”

“Bah. He can call me if he's interested,” Åsa scoffed. “I've been dating all sorts of men, all week long. I don't have time to be interested in Michel.” She adjusted her riding helmet and jutted out her chin. “And he doesn't seem interested either, does he?”

“Of course that might have something to do with your acting like a snobby bitch the last time he saw you,” Natalia pointed out.

Åsa sneered. “All this sex you've been having hasn't improved your social skills,” she said. “Michel was the one who was unpleasant, in case you didn't notice. He can contact me if he wants anything.”

“What happened to living in the twenty-first century?”

“The twenty-first century is highly overrated, if you ask me.”

Amen to that, Natalia thought.
Amen.

 

There were six people around the dinner table. Appetizer, soup, entrée, and fruit.

“We're keeping it simple,” Louise said smugly as the antique china, the polished-silver plate covers, and the local delicacies were served by an elderly woman from the area.

Peter was sitting next to their mother at the table, and Natalia could hear fragments of their conversation as she tasted the soup, which was actually exquisite. Of course, Louise hadn't made the food herself, but she had a good cook. The local population around Gyllgarn Castle contributed, as they had done for centuries, to their noble overlords' ability to live in comfort. It was like a holdover from feudal days, which had really only ended about half a century ago.

“He married some young thing,” their mother said. “So now we have to put up with her coming to the party. It's so discourteous to force the rest of us to associate with that type of person.”

Peter mumbled supportively. That's what Peter did best, agree. The conversation continued to revolve around who was coming to BÃ¥stad and was important enough to see. Relationships, marriages, and degrees of worthiness were debated. Peter's voice was quiet and conciliatory. As the food was served, Natalia heard the conversation take a different turn, from people and parties to the future. She braced herself. It wouldn't be long now before her mother had a go at her with the usual questions about her plans for the future, observations about committed relationships, and reminders that she wasn't getting any younger. If it hadn't been so annoying, Natalia would almost have found it comical how the conversation was the same every time.

“I never understood why Natalia and Jonas had to go their separate ways,” Mother said with uncanny timing. She moistened her lips with the wine and set down her glass. Her blond hair shone. “They were such a good match,” she said. She wasn't addressing anyone in particular. “All my friends agree. And I was so sorry to see it end.”

Sometimes Natalia thought she must have been a disappointment to her mother from beginning to now. In elementary school, where her class had included one of the royal children but she had never succeeded in hanging out in the right circles. At boarding school, where she hadn't acted like the other girls, hadn't networked, hadn't gone to balls any more than absolutely necessary. In her professional life, where she had gotten a real job instead of taking a few fluff courses and pursuing a man with the right pedigree. The only time her mother had been proud of her was when she got engaged to Jonas. Her mother had taken the breakup personally and hadn't spoken to Natalia for several weeks after finding out. Her mother did that whenever anyone or anything displeased her. Froze them out and ignored them. It had always been that way—her mother punished her with silence, by withdrawing her love. There was no way to defend against that tactic, and it left its marks, creating small, hard-to-heal wounds.

“Yes, Natalia, bad on you for not still being together with Jonas,” Åsa said loudly with a slight slur over the main course. “For the family's sake.”

“That's my opinion,” Natalia's mother said coolly. “And I'm entitled to it.”

Åsa gave Natalia a look of encouragement.
Tell them
, her eyes urged.
Tell them why he dumped you. It was so beyond low of him.

Natalia shook her head in warning.

Åsa emptied her glass and refilled it herself. Natalia clenched her silverware. The meal was almost over; then she could go home.

“I heard you had lunch with J-O,” Peter said, turning to his father. Natalia perked up her ears.

“We discussed the merger,” her father said, without looking at Natalia.

“You had a meeting without me?” Natalia asked. She put her hands in her lap. She watched her father with courteous attention, without giving away how trampled on she felt. By both her father and her boss.

She loved and admired her father, but he had done things like this a few times, and it was just as unpleasant each time. The last time had been two years ago. Natalia had applied for a prestigious management position at Svenska Banken, where her father was the chairman of the board. It was a position with a lot of responsibility that she'd been qualified for, but she hadn't gotten the job. She'd heard through the grapevine later that her father was the one who had prevented her from getting it. When she fished, her informant told her it was because she was a little too young and that they didn't want to play favorites just because of her name, but then the position had gone to a man who was only a few years older than she and a De la Grip cousin, no less. After that she decided to create a portfolio outside of Investum and accepted the job J-O offered her in Stockholm. She knew her father was from a different generation; she got that. She understood that on some level he just felt more comfortable talking to J-O, that it didn't have anything to do with her personally, but it still stung. And in purely professional terms, her father's attitudes hadn't done her career any favors either.

“I wasn't aware that I needed to tell you whom I meet with,” her father said.

“Of course not,” she replied as calmly as she could. “But this is my deal. I should have been informed. What did you discuss?”

Her father set down his silverware. “Why are you so damned worried about everything? If you can't handle big deals like this, then you shouldn't be working on them.”

“I . . . ,” Natalia began, but her mother interrupted her.

“That's exactly why I have always believed it's better for the men to deal with these matters,” her mother said. She daintily dabbed the corners of her mouth with her linen napkin. “We ladies have our ways.”

Louise smiled at her in agreement.

Åsa scoffed and caught Natalia's eye. They both hated this passive-aggressive side of femininity.

“Women are more emotional. That's just how it is,” her mother stubbornly maintained. This was her favorite argument. That and the phrase “good sense.” She looked at Louise, who nodded in agreement.

“I'm sure that feminists must be deeply unhappy women,” her mother said. “Man-haters.”

Louise sniggered and reached for her wineglass so that her large engagement and wedding rings sparkled. Natalia was sure her sister-in-law was deliberately showing them off—being married was hands down the highest achievement a woman could attain in Louise's worldview.

“I'm not particularly worried,” Natalia began again. “Just careful, Daddy.” She struggled to sound professional and levelheaded. “I want it to go smoothly. I hope you know that and will count on it.” She smiled.

But her father seemed to be on the warpath. “There's a difference between being careful and being unsure. Sometimes you have to act, not just sit around staring at computer screens. Svenska Banken is strong. The Danes will make money off this merger. There's no reason to dillydally. I had lunch with J-O because I wanted him to assure me that a bunch of female hormones weren't going to get in the way when it really mattered.” He curled his lip. “This is serious, Natalia, not some kind of make-believe on the Internet or YouTube.” He banged his fist on the table, and she jumped. “These deals are real, the kind that build this country. I'm so tired of all that feminist nonsense. After all, we men have been at the helm for a long time, no matter what you modern ladies think you need to prove. Always the same goddamn nonsense.”

Natalia chose to focus on her food for a moment. She knew that this idea of women at the top was a sensitive subject for her father, and she wanted to pick her battles.

A few years ago Svenska Banken's biggest competitor, Nordbank, had appointed a new CEO, Meg Sandberg. Her father had openly criticized the choice. He had made statements to the media about all the reasons she was a bad choice. Privately he'd also mocked and ridiculed her manly appearance, her garish fashion sense—not a lick of which had anything to do with her ability to run a company. Meg Sandberg, however, had proven worthy of her board of directors' faith in her, and the outspoken redheaded CEO with the gaudy fashion sense had shepherded Nordbank to great success. Natalia was sure that was one of the reasons her father was now pushing the merger that she and J-O were working on. Her father wanted Svenska Banken to retake its position as leader.