The Swede

by Maureen Smith

  He leaned down, resting his forehead against Scarlett’s with his eyes closed. “I don’t know what I’d ever do without you, min själ.”

  She nuzzled against his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I’m holding you to that.” Slowly he opened his eyes, his hands dropping to her waist and pulling her closer as he smiled down at her. “When did you learn our national anthem?”

  She laughed softly, her warm breath caressing his face. “I learned it last month. I’ve been practicing like crazy, waiting for the perfect moment to surprise you.”

  His smile broadened. “You sounded amazing. And you did something I’ve rarely ever seen. You brought the mighty Olof Sandström to tears.”

  Her expression sobered. “He asked me to sing at his funeral.”

  “Jesus.” Viggo sighed, rubbing his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry about that, baby. He’s being so fucking melodramatic.”

  “It’s okay,” Scarlett murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck. “He heard me sing at the Tampa Bay game, and I guess he was really moved. He asked me to learn the Swedish national anthem so I could sing it at his funeral. I told him I already knew it. He didn’t believe me, so…”

  “You proved him wrong.” Viggo laughed and cupped her head in his hands, then angled his mouth over hers and kissed her until two passing nurses whistled at them.

  Grinning unabashedly, Viggo released Scarlett and held out his hand. She slid her palm into his, and together they headed off down the hall to tell his family they were leaving for the children’s hospital.

  Chapter 44

  Scarlett

  Lycksalighet

  * * *

  Viggo took scarlett sightseeing the next morning.

  It was another cold day with a rough breeze coming off the sea. But the weather didn’t stop them from enjoying each other’s company or the breathtaking scenery. They held hands as they wandered the cobblestone streets of Gamla Stan, losing themselves in the winding alleys flanked by colorful medieval buildings. Scarlett couldn’t get enough of the gorgeous architecture. Her unbridled delight made Viggo smile and nuzzle her ear as they took selfies in front of ancient churches and statues.

  As they browsed through quaint tourist shops, Viggo insisted on buying souvenirs for her and her family. Her crazy mother had been texting her at all hours, brimming with questions about Viggo’s family and his childhood home. She knew how much Scarlett loved Stockholm, so she warned her not to elope with him while they were here.

  Scarlett received the latest text as she and Viggo were leaving an antiques shop. When she laughed, he looked over her shoulder and read her mother’s message. One corner of his mouth twitched and a mischievous twinkle lit his eyes.

  “Don’t give me any ideas,” he drawled.

  She laughed again, trying to ignore the way her heart raced at the thought of marrying him. Scarlett Sandström had a really nice ring to it. But she refused to let her mind wander in that direction.

  Gamla Stan wasn’t crowded with tourists this time of year, but plenty of locals recognized Viggo and asked for his autograph. Some offered kind words and prayers for his grandfather’s recovery.

  After one such friendly encounter, Viggo linked his fingers with Scarlett’s and smiled at her before they set off for the Royal Palace, which was the official residence of the Swedish king. After watching the changing of the guard, they entered the sprawling palace to explore the Royal Apartments, the Museum of Antiquities, and the Treasury Museum that featured a bunch of regalia and thrones and weapons.

  Viggo kept the tour deliciously entertaining by whispering dirty things in Scarlett’s ear. Things he wanted to do to her against a mirrored wall, on the queen’s silver throne, all over a luxurious royal bed.

  She’d never blushed and giggled so hard in her life.

  After their stimulating tour, they stopped for lunch at a cozy waterfront café and ordered Swedish meatballs served with creamy mashed potatoes and lingonberry jam. The food was scrumptious, the company even better.

  Scarlett was having the time of her life. If she could have prolonged their stay, she would have. But Viggo needed to get back to hockey, and she had her own commitments to keep. Plus Traeger would start panicking if she stayed away too long.

  Viggo had finished his meal and was gazing at her across the table, a soft smile playing over his sexy lips.

  “What?” she asked. “Do I have sauce on my face?”

  “No.” His eyes glinted. “If you did, I would have licked it off by now.”

  She grinned, setting her fork down on her empty plate. “So why were you smiling at me?”

  “Do I need a reason to smile at you?”

  “No. But you looked like you were thinking about something.”

  “I suppose I was.”

  “What were you thinking about?”

  He smiled lazily. “I love how much you love Sweden.”

  Her grin softened. “How could I not love the country that gave me you?”

  His eyes twinkled. “That’s sweet, baby, but you loved Sweden before you met me.”

  Not technically, she mused. She couldn’t help wondering if he would ever remember seeing her at his game six years ago. It was probably silly to keep hoping he would.

  “I think you were Swedish in a past life,” he teased.

  She laughed. “Maybe I was.”

  He reached across the table, took her hand and turned it over, his thumb stroking the drum beat tattoo on her inner wrist. The lazy caress sent warm tingles through her.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of touching you,” he murmured.

  She gave him a soft smile. “I hope you won’t.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  Her heart skipped like a rock tossed across a pond. They stared into each other’s eyes, savoring their connection.

  “I really enjoyed meeting your friends last night,” she said warmly.

  “Not as much as they enjoyed meeting you.” Viggo grinned. “You really made quite an impression on them, baby. They’re looking forward to seeing you again this summer. Everyone’s going to the festival to watch you perform.”

  She beamed. “Awesome.”

  “Yep. Anders had such good things to say about you, his mom wants to meet you. She invited us over for dinner tomorrow, but I told her it’ll be our last night in town so we’re having a big family dinner—”

  “Oh, that’s right.”

  “—and then after that, you and I are checking into a hotel so we can screw like bunnies.”

  Scarlett gasped. “You did not tell her that!”

  He threw back his head with a shout of deep laughter that turned heads. Swedes normally frowned upon loud public outbursts, but Viggo’s intoxicating laughter had men grinning and women swooning.

  Scarlett tried to give him a stern glare. “Dude, that’s not funny.”

  He laughed even harder, his wide shoulders shaking, beautiful gray eyes sparkling.

  She watched him, tenderness welling up inside her. She could see a glimpse of the happy, carefree boy he’d once been. There were no more shadows in his eyes. No more ghosts. He’d confronted his demons, and he’d come out on the other side. Part of him would always bear the scars of the physical abuse he’d suffered—literally and figuratively. But he’d made peace with the past and he was ready to move on. And she would be right there beside him. Right where she belonged.

  He finally got his laughter under control, swiping tears from the corners of his eyes and grinning at her.

  As her heart swelled with affection, she reached across the table and brushed his face with her fingertips.

  He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing his lips against her palm as he stared into her eyes. “I’m so damn glad you’re in my life.”

  She smiled tenderly. “There’s no place else I’d rather be.”

  * * *

  It snowed overnight, so they woke up to a beautiful winter wonderland.<
br />
  Svea was leaving for Spain tomorrow, but she still wanted to take pictures of Scarlett. She had someplace in mind, but she was being super mysterious. She instructed Scarlett to wear one of her new Louis Vuitton outfits, a fitted cream midi dress that had long sleeves with cutout shoulders. She paired the curve-hugging dress with knee-high cream suede boots.

  When Svea saw her, she clapped her hands together and squealed, “You look amazing!”

  Scarlett grinned. “That’s high praise coming from a supermodel. I’ll take it.”

  Svea laughed and hugged her. Yep, they were going to get along just fine.

  Viggo had left after breakfast to drop his mother off at the hospital and run a few more errands. He promised to catch up with them when he was done.

  Rikard had volunteered to chauffeur Scarlett and Svea on their little adventure. So once he showed up, the three of them set off in his Range Rover.

  The roads were clear, and the weather was crisp and cold with beautiful blue skies. Scarlett was mesmerized by the snowy landscape. Being from Denver, she was obviously no stranger to snow. But Stockholm’s sparkling winter wonderland just seemed extra magical.

  On the way to their secret destination, she kept up a lively stream of conversation with Viggo’s siblings. Rikard was gearing up for the next Winter Olympics, so she asked him about his training regimen and what it was like to win two gold medals. He was modest about his success, but she could tell he was as fiercely competitive as Viggo. The more she learned about him, the hotter he got. Seriously.

  Before she knew it, they were meandering through a tranquil village nestled on the shores of Lake Mälaren. She gasped at the sight of a seventeenth-century baroque castle looming on the horizon. With its soaring turrets and towers, it looked like an enchanted castle straight out of a fairy tale.

  Her slack-jawed amazement made Rikard and Svea laugh.

  “Surprise!” Svea jokingly announced. “We brought you to a magic castle!”

  “Wow,” Scarlett breathed as she stared out the window. She half expected to see faeries flying around the snowy turrets.

  “We used to come here with our family every summer,” Svea fondly reminisced. “We’d explore the museum and have picnics and run around playing for hours. Rikard and Viggo would pretend to be Viking warriors, and I was the fiercest shieldmaiden that ever lived.”

  Scarlett grinned. “Of course you were, Lagertha.”

  Svea laughed and pretended to flex her bicep.

  Rikard’s twinkling blue eyes met Scarlett’s in the rearview mirror. “This is Viggo’s favorite castle in Sweden. He has a lot of happy memories here.”

  Scarlett gave him a meaningful smile. “Thank you for bringing me to such a special place.”

  He returned her smile and winked.

  They pulled into the free car park and climbed out of the Range Rover. To reach the castle, they had to cross a drawbridge that spanned a moat. Talk about stepping back in time.

  Along the way, Svea snapped photos of Scarlett with her high-end Leica camera. She really got into it, crouching as she took close-ups and shot her from different angles like a seasoned pro. Scarlett had fun posing for her, tossing her head and strutting along in her boots with her trench coat flapping in the wind.

  Rikard and Svea laughed, enjoying her playfulness.

  Svea got some great shots of Scarlett framed against the stunning winter landscape. She was really talented, and Scarlett could totally see her becoming a successful photographer after she retired from modeling.

  Rikard snapped photos of them together, grinning as they struck silly poses, made duck faces at the camera and held up bunny ears behind each other’s heads. By the time they reached the entrance to the castle, their sides hurt from laughing and they were toasty warm under their coats.

  The castle was breathtakingly spectacular, set against the backdrop of the lake with the sun glittering on the snowy rooftops. The sprawling grounds boasted a cathedral, mazelike gardens and a manicured park bordered by sculpted trees. The air shimmered with ice crystals, adding to the enchanted aura.

  Groups of tourists were roaming the castle grounds, snapping pictures of the gorgeous scenery.

  As they approached the cathedral, Scarlett couldn’t help feeling awed by its majestic beauty—the massive wooden doors, the decorative arched windows, the lofty spires jutting into the bright blue sky.

  As she stood there gazing up at the ancient church, a shiver trickled down her spine. It was followed by a strange sensation of déjà vu, as if she’d been here before. Which was crazy.

  “Scarlett?”

  She turned to meet Svea’s curious gaze. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Scarlett smiled distractedly and gestured to the cathedral. “I’m just gonna peek inside.”

  “Sure, go ahead. It’s really beautiful.”

  Without waiting for Svea or Rikard to follow her, Scarlett climbed the steps and wandered into the cathedral. The cool air was scented with candle wax and incense. There was no one inside.

  She stared up at the soaring ceiling and mouthed wow. The interior was even more impressive than the exterior.

  Walking slowly down the aisle, she admired the intricately carved statues, the towering brick columns, the alabaster apostolic figures that adorned the pulpit.

  “It was a Wednesday night in December,” said a deep voice.

  She spun around, gasping when she saw Viggo standing at the end of the aisle. He wore a dark trench over a charcoal dress shirt and black pants with heavy black boots.

  “Viggo! When did you—” Scarlett broke off as his words suddenly registered. “Wait…did you say—”

  “Just over six years ago.” He began walking down the aisle toward her, his gaze never straying from her face. “We were playing the Predators.”

  “Oh my God.” Scarlett stared at him, her heart thundering. “You…remember?”

  “I remember every detail of what happened that night.” He stopped in front of her. “You were wearing face paint. Black and gold.” His hand ghosted over her cheek, setting off sparks of electricity that tingled through her. “Your lipstick was black and your hair was streaked with gold.”

  Scarlett found herself holding her breath as her heart beat faster and faster.

  “I scored a goal and skated up to the glass where you and your family were sitting behind the net. And I saw you, Scarlett.”

  “You did,” she said in an excited whisper. “You looked right at me, pointed and winked. It always amazed me how in that moment, with all those fans screaming your name, you singled me out of the crowd.”

  “You stood out to me.”

  She grinned shyly. “It was the crazy face paint.”

  “No,” he murmured with a slow shake of his head. “That’s not why you stood out. Plenty of other people were wearing face paint, too. Yours wasn’t the craziest. It didn’t even cover your whole face.” He smiled, stroking a finger down her cheek. “I thought you had beautiful eyes, and your smile stole my breath. Kinda like now.”

  She laughed softly, her insides turning somersaults.

  “I snuck glances at you the rest of the game,” he confessed. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. When we met at the engagement party in December, I couldn’t shake this overwhelming feeling of déjà vu. I knew we must have met somewhere before, but I couldn’t place it. It took me a while to make the connection up here,” he said, tapping his temple. “But I’ve always felt you right here,” he swore, pointing to his heart.

  Tears flooded her eyes. “Oh, Viggo…”

  “I know it sounds crazy, baby, but ever since that night six years ago, I’ve been looking for you. I may not have realized it, but I was. And now that I’ve found you, I am never, ever letting you out of my life again.”

  As he smoothly dropped to one knee, Scarlett sucked in a sharp breath. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod…

  He gazed up at her, his heart in his eyes. “Ja
g älskar dig så mycket. I love you so much, Scarlett Rain Warner. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I hope to God you feel the same way.”

  Happiness bubbled up inside her, a dazzlingly radiant happiness that burst out of her in a euphoric laugh. “I do feel the same way!”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah!”

  Eyes glittering with laughter and joy, Viggo reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out an exquisitely stunning sparkler that made her gasp. The pale pink cushion-cut diamond was surrounded by a halo of smaller diamonds embedded in a delicate platinum band.

  “Oh my God,” she heard herself whimper.

  Viggo stared into her eyes. “Vill du gifta dig med mig?” he asked in a knee-weakeningly husky voice. “Will you marry me, sweetheart?”

  “Ja,” Scarlett exclaimed, tears rushing down her face. “Yes, Viggo Sandström, I will absolutely marry you!”

  He beamed brighter than a thousand suns, melting her heart even more.

  When he held up the gorgeous ring, she grinned and put her hand out to let him slide it onto her finger. It fit perfectly.

  Overcome with emotion, she sank to her knees—tight dress and all—and threw her arms around Viggo’s neck, practically tackling him.

  With an ecstatic laugh, he crushed her to his chest, his face buried in her hair as he whispered, “Du är min.”

  “Yes,” she whispered tearfully. “I’m yours. I am so yours. And you are all mine.”

  He pulled back just enough to clasp her face in his hands and vow fiercely, “I’m gonna make you so damn happy.”

  Before she could respond, he claimed her mouth in a breathtakingly searing kiss. She kissed him back with equal ferocity, feeling like she could just melt right into his soul.

  As a burst of cheers and applause erupted, they broke apart and looked behind them.

  Scarlett was shocked to see a crowd gathered outside the massive cathedral doors. Viggo’s family members stood at the front. His father and brothers wore the broadest grins. His mother and sisters were crying.