The Swede

by Maureen Smith

  Nadia’s words reverberated in Scarlett’s mind long after the call ended.

  She and Viggo had promised not to hurt each other. She had a feeling their promises would be put to the test sooner rather than later.

  * * *

  Two nights later, Scarlett was in her room working on a new song. After the show, her bandmates had headed off to a club in Washington, D.C. She wasn’t in a clubbing mood, so she’d gone back to the hotel, ordered room service and put on some Nina Simone.

  Viggo was attending a charity fundraiser as an honorary guest, so he wouldn’t be home until later. That didn’t stop her from getting excited when her phone chirped on the bed. She eagerly picked it up and read the text. To her surprise and disappointment, the message was from Jess.

  She’d texted a picture of her and Viggo sitting at a table together at the same charity function. They were both dressed up and smiling at the camera.

  Ran into Viggo at the Young Scholars banquet, Jess wrote in a series of separate texts. My boss couldn’t make it so she asked me to go in her place to rep the college. Viggo is sooo fuckin’ hot. Srsly! I can’t stop staring at him! Plus he’s a really cool guy. He’s been signing a ton of autographs, answering questions and taking pics without seeming even slightly annoyed. I don’t know who loves him more, the kids or the ladies. I’m definitely in love!

  She added a bunch of heart emojis that made Scarlett want to punch her in her boobs, which she was flaunting in a low-cut strapless dress. Scarlett wondered how many times Viggo had checked out her cleavage. He liked nice racks, and Jess had that in spades.

  Scarlett glared at the picture, trying to ignore the claws of jealousy tearing at her gut. Jess was leaning a little too close to Viggo. She grudgingly had to admit that they looked good together.

  Jess sent another text: It really sucks that Nadia hooked u up with Viggo when I met him first. I think we woulda hit it off if given the chance. U better be nice to me, chica, or I just might take him from u!

  Scarlett clenched her jaw. She knew Jess was just fucking around, trying to get a rise out of her. She didn’t want to give her the satisfaction, and it went against her feminist principles to fight another woman over a man. At the same time, she needed to make her position crystal clear so there would be no misunderstanding between them.

  So she texted back: Viggo’s not mine for u to take. If u want him that bad, make ur move—

  She was typing so fast that she accidentally hit SEND before completing her message. Gnashing her teeth, she fired off the rest of her warning: But just know if he turns u down, I expect u to back off and move the fuck on. Srsly, Jess. I don’t do love triangles, and I will cut a bitch if I have to.

  Jess never responded.

  The day after that heated exchange, Viggo ghosted on Scarlett. He stopped calling and texting. Stopped liking her social media posts and retweeting her. Stopped replying to her texts or Snapchats. He just…disappeared.

  It was so unexpected and abrupt that she wondered if Jess had shown him her text message. Just the first part—the part that could be damaging when taken out of context. Maybe Jess had set her up.

  But, no, that couldn’t be it, she told herself. Jess was messy, but not even she could be that spiteful. Could she?

  There had to be another explanation. Maybe Viggo had simply ditched her for Jess. Maybe they’d struck up a rapport at the banquet and realized they were soul mates. Maybe they’d hooked up that night and were now secret lovers. Maybe the other woman wasn’t even Jess. Maybe he’d met an irresistible puck bunny that he wanted for more than just sex. Or maybe he’d reconnected with the mysterious Audrey.

  The suspense of not knowing was killing Scarlett. So she broke down and ventured onto the online bunny sites to see if there were any new hookup stories involving Viggo. She didn’t find anything, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t moved on.

  After a day and a half of his radio silence, she called him to see what was up. She got his voicemail and left a playful message wondering if he was still alive. He took almost a day to respond, and he didn’t have much to say. She knew he was busy with hockey practice and games, but his sudden detachment stung and bewildered her. She had no idea what she’d done to push him away. When she came right out and asked him if something was wrong, he gave her some canned excuse about needing to stay focused on hockey for a while.

  It was the ultimate kiss-off, the pro athlete’s version of “It’s not you, it’s me.”

  Scarlett was absolutely crushed. She couldn’t get off the phone fast enough, and then she just sat on her bed staring out the window and trying not to cry. It hurt like hell to think that Viggo had already lost interest in her. Just last week he’d admitted to being scared of his intense feelings for her. Had he been lying to her? Telling her what he knew she wanted to hear? Or had he simply decided she wasn’t worth waiting for?

  The questions taunted her, feeding the fears and insecurities she’d always kept hidden behind a tough-girl façade. Adding insult to injury, Viggo hadn’t even stuck around long enough to get her into bed.

  She felt sick and heartbroken. She seriously considered asking Nadia to get some insight from Reid, but she was too humiliated to tell her cousin that Viggo had dumped her before they even got started. She also didn’t want to create any friction between Nadia and Reid.

  So she kept Viggo’s painful rejection to herself and threw all her energies into touring and being a rock star. She went clubbing with her bandmates after every show, dancing and drinking like she didn’t have a care in the world. She even flirted with Leo Harry, though she still refused to sleep with him.

  Late one night after a concert in Philadelphia, she tweeted a picture of herself playfully kissing the cheek of a popular rapper she’d met and befriended years ago. Seconds after her tweet went live, Viggo DM’d her out of the blue: R u fucking him?

  Outraged at his audacity, Scarlett fired off a scathing retort: Shouldn’t u be worrying about hockey and not my sex life???

  She didn’t hear from him again.

  She told herself it was for the best. She rationalized that it wouldn’t have worked out between them anyway.

  But she had a sinking sensation in her stomach that she had just lost the best thing she’d never had. And she still didn’t know why.

  * * *

  Two days before Christmas, there was a blizzard bearing down on the East Coast. All flights out of JFK and LaGuardia were canceled. The band’s evening show in Buffalo, as well as the three remaining tour dates, were postponed.

  Scarlett’s bandmates had packed up the van and were hightailing it back to Boston before the snowstorm hit. They urged her to leave with them.

  “None of us are going home this year,” Zander said. “So we can celebrate Christmas together like Charlie Brown, Snoopy and the Peanuts Gang.”

  Scarlett laughed, ruffling his unruly mop of blond hair. “As strangely wonderful as that sounds, you guys know how homesick I’ve been. My family’s waiting for me in Canada. One way or another, I’m gonna find my way there.”

  They wished her luck, hugged her hard and said their goodbyes. Watching them leave made her want to cry.

  With tears clogging her throat, she went back up to her room and started calling rental car agencies. Toronto was less than two hours away from Buffalo by car. All she needed to get there were her passport and a vehicle. She had one, now she just had to get the other.

  She must have called at least thirty rental car places. She got the same answer every time: No cars available. Apparently she wasn’t the only one trying to get out of Dodge before the big blizzard hit.

  Angry and frustrated, she started bitching at the employee who’d had the misfortune to take her call. “I can’t believe the entire city’s shutting down over a little snow and ice. I’m from Colorado, and we eat snowstorms for breakfast. Furthermore—”

  Click.

  “Hello?” Scarlett pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it in disbelief. Th
e woman had hung up on her.

  Swearing a blue streak, she threw her phone down on the bed. Unsatisfied, she grabbed one of the perfectly fluffed pillows and screamed into it, then flopped onto her back and glared up at the ceiling. She’d exhausted all her options. She was stuck in Buffalo for Christmas. Stranded at this hotel all by herself.

  It was probably for the best, she tried consoling herself. After the way Viggo had dumped her, she hadn’t exactly been looking forward to seeing him again. The longer she could put it off, the better.

  So why did she want to curl up in a ball and sob into her pillow?

  As dire weather reports blared from the television, she busied herself with updating the band’s social media pages, tweeting out holiday wishes to fans and answering other messages. She tried to read a comic book, but not even the heroics of her beloved Misty Knight could hold her attention.

  She chatted on the phone with her mother and Nadia. They were both sad and disappointed that she was stuck in New York, but there was nothing they could do. With any luck, the storm would be downgraded to flurries and she would be able to join everyone in Canada in time for Christmas.

  Their optimism didn’t make her feel any better. After getting off the phone, she got up and listlessly wandered to the window. As she stood staring up at the sky, the first flakes of snow began to fall.

  She sighed forlornly and crossed the room to flop down on the bed. Picking up the remote control, she changed the channel to something less depressing than news of impending snowpocalypses. After watching an hour or so of mindless television, she dozed off.

  She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep when she was awakened by a firm knock on the door.

  Disoriented, she looked out the window and saw that it was dark outside. She got up and went to open the door.

  When she saw who was standing there, her heart flew right out of her throat.

  Viggo…

  Chapter 14

  Scarlett

  Never Can Say Goodbye

  * * *

  For a long moment they stared into each other’s eyes, neither of them moving or speaking.

  The shock of seeing him took Scarlett’s breath away. She couldn’t believe he was here. In the flesh.

  His dark blond hair had grown out a little more. A few locks fell rakishly over his forehead. He had a five o’clock shadow but it was lighter, like he’d recently shaved. It emphasized his strong jawline and the curve of his lips. He was wearing a thick wool coat over a ribbed gray sweater, dark jeans and heavy brown hiking boots. He was so rugged and masculine, he all but bled testosterone.

  His gray eyes drifted over Scarlett, taking her in with a quiet intensity that set off a wild fluttering in her stomach.

  “What’re you doing here?” she finally whispered.

  His eyes returned to hers. “It’s almost Christmas. I wanted to be with you.”

  The husky words made her heart contract with so much emotion that for a few seconds she couldn’t think or breathe, could only stare up at him. “You risked driving through a snowstorm just to spend Christmas with me?”

  He held her gaze. “I would have driven to hell and back to be here with you.”

  She swallowed hard. Her throat felt tight and achy. God, please don’t let me cry. I’ll do anything you ask if you spare me the embarrassment of sobbing like a baby in front of this man!

  Viggo searched her face. “Are you going to let me in?” The innocuous question seemed loaded with meaning.

  She regarded him a moment longer, then slowly stepped back. He came inside the room, never taking his eyes off her face as he closed the door behind him. She wondered if her body would always sizzle like this every time she got within twenty feet of him.

  She backed away, giving herself some much-needed distance. He watched her retreat without speaking.

  As she stared back at him, her fingers tingled with the urge to brush those sexy locks off his forehead. He beat her to it, shoving the hair back with a slightly unsteady hand that betrayed his nervousness.

  She folded her arms across her chest and lifted her chin. “I’m really surprised to see you. I thought you weren’t interested in me anymore.”

  He shook his head slowly. “I could never lose interest in you, Scarlett. That’s not even possible.”

  “Then why the cold shoulder? Why’d you blow me off like that?” She hated to hear the hurt in her voice. Hated how vulnerable he’d made her feel.

  He pushed out a deep breath and raked both hands through the thick layers of his hair. “I’m a fucking idiot,” he said darkly.

  “You won’t get any argument from me. But seriously, Viggo, what the hell happened?”

  He was quiet for a long moment. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. His face was grim as he came toward her, swiping his thumb across the screen a few times before handing her the phone.

  She looked down at the screen and froze when she saw a grainy picture of Leo Harry kissing her at the party that night in Queens. It had been posted to some obscure entertainment blog that covered the comings and goings of indie rock bands. The headline above the photo teased: Loverboy Leo Gets Cozy with Off The Grid Frontwoman.

  Viggo was watching her face, gauging her reaction to the picture.

  Grimacing, she met his gaze. “Where’d you get this?”

  “Someone sent me the link through an anonymous email.”

  “You don’t know who it was?”

  “No,” he said grimly, “but I have my suspicions.”

  “Who do you suspect?”

  “A teammate I’ve butted heads with.”

  Scarlett shook her head, frowning at the picture. “It’s not what it looks like. Leo and I were discussing a collaboration, then he just leaned over and kissed me. He caught me off guard and I was a little slow to react. But believe me when I tell you that I never kissed him back. I pushed him away—”

  “I believe you,” Viggo said quietly.

  Relief swept through her. “You do?”

  “I do.” He paused. “When I first saw the picture, I was furious. I felt played. I convinced myself that you’d done me a favor by showing your true colors before things got more serious between us.”

  Frustration tightened her throat. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

  His expression was grim. “I didn’t want to say anything I might later regret—things I wouldn’t be able to take back.” He turned off the phone and tucked it back into his pocket. “In hindsight, I know I should have come right out and asked you what was up. But I thought I could just move on and forget about you.” He shook his head slowly. “I was wrong. So fucking wrong.”

  Scarlett stared at him, her pulse fluttering wildly. “So you came here still thinking I might possibly be a cheater? What if I’d fessed up to sleeping with Leo? What if I’d turned you away?”

  “That’s a chance I was willing to take.” He took a step closer to her. “The connection we made back in Denver…I know I didn’t imagine it.”

  Scarlett held his piercing blade of a gaze, trying to remember to breathe. “No,” she whispered. “You didn’t imagine it.”

  A satisfied gleam filled his eyes.

  Her gaze strayed to his lips and she licked her own, then felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Let me, um, take your coat.”

  He shrugged out of it and handed it to her. It was made of expensive wool and looked very GQ. She turned away, brought the coat up to her face and quietly breathed in his scent, savoring how good he smelled as her mind traveled back to the night of the engagement party. She remembered standing on that moonlit terrace with him, snuggling into the warmth of his suit jacket and absorbing the scented heat from his body.

  Resisting the urge to bury her nose in his coat, she hung it up in the wardrobe closet by the door. When she turned around, he gave her a slow smile that sent a whoosh of tingles shooting through her.

  She moistened her lips. “What?”

  “Nothing.
I’m just ridiculously happy to see you.”

  She blushed with pleasure. “It was pretty risky of you to get on the road with a blizzard coming.”

  “I’m Swedish. Snow doesn’t intimidate me.”

  Scarlett felt the first stirrings of a smile. “We’ve already established that you’re a badass, Ragnar Lothbrok—”

  He grinned at the Viking reference.

  “—but it was still dangerous. You could have gotten stranded out there.”

  “Again, that’s a chance I was willing to take.” He reached out and touched her cheek, his knuckles rasping over it.

  Until that very second, she hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed him touching her. Her whole body cried out for the slightest contact with his.

  She swallowed hard. “Did you already eat? I know it’s after midnight, but I missed dinner and you’re probably hungry, too.”

  Viggo smiled. “I can always eat.”

  “Of course you can. You’re a hockey player.” She edged past him and went to the desk to pick up the room service menu. She had just opened it when she felt a series of hot little sizzles against her back. That was the only warning she had that Viggo had come up behind her. For such a big guy, he was pretty damn stealthy.

  She stared down at the menu, her eyes unfocused as he pushed her hair to the side, out of the way. “Um—” Her voice was thready “—what’re you in the mood for?”

  He brushed his lips over the back of her neck, parting them so she could feel the tantalizing heat of his breath. She shook as goosebumps raced down her arms and her muscles turned to water.

  “Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” His voice was low and husky, raw silk whispering across her skin. Her breasts grew heavy and her nipples spiked against the lacy material of her bra.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you. Dreaming about you.” He kissed her nape and nibbled his way to her ear. “You’ve got me coming undone, Scarlett.”