She reached the end of the pool, somersaulted into a turn, and kicked off to start another lap.She was in the rhythm now, in her groove, and she quite enjoyed the weightless feeling of gliding through the soft, clear water, her arms slicing like knives through butter, her legs kicking strongly, her breathing regular and smooth.Stroke, stroke, breathe.Stroke, stroke, breathe.It was akin to meditation.But it was doing little to rid her of all these insidious thoughts of Mårten.
She’d been in Sweden for six days now, and she felt like she might be going insane.
They’d settled into a sort of routine, an almost domestic, homey routine.He was easy to live with; she’d give him that much.Apart from the grilling he gave her as to where she’d been and what she’d been up to all day when he came home from work—as if he were some kind of cop or something—Mårten was laid-back about most things.He was a skilled cook, coming up with nutritious and tasty dishes most nights.She always helped him in the kitchen; she hated anybody waiting upon her.And she was a pretty good cook herself.
When he asked what she wanted to eat, she’d requested healthy, high-protein meals, with lots of vegetables, and he’d come through every night.She’d need to start carb-loading three to four days before the race, but right now she was enjoying all the fresh, tasty ingredients, often stopping off at the little gourmet grocer to pick up a few things after a ride.
But it was more than just the cooking.Mårten also kept his house tidy.She couldn’t vouch for his bedroom as it was the one place she hadn’t yet been invited, even though the devil on her shoulder had her halfway up the stairs more than once while Mårten was at work before she stopped herself.The man deserved to be afforded the same privacy she would’ve wanted for herself.He was even good with his hands.Look at the beautiful kitchen he’d built all by himself, and the way he had restored his little cottage.
He even did the neighborly thing and helped the old lady down the road, for God’s sake.Summer knew he was far from perfect, but right now it was difficult to find a flaw in the man.As long as she ignored the fact he’d got all growly and overprotective back in Seattle, as if he had some kind of right to tell her what to do because he was a cop and she was a woman in distress.And maybe he was a little OCD about some things.But then, wasn’t she the same?
They’d chat over their meal, sitting on the front porch, slapping away the annoying tiny gnats and listening to the songbirds searching for their last morsel before retiring to bed.She learned a lot about him during those evenings.He was compassionate and caring, with a very strong moral compass.It was almost like he didn’t want to see the bad side of anyone, which was an interesting trait for a police officer, and made Summer wonder how he coped with seeing the darker aspect of humanity on a daily basis.
The problem was she was beginning to like Mårten.Really like him.It wasn’t just physical lust anymore.She liked that he was a closet romantic; she could tell by the books on his bookshelf.And they weren’t just fifty shades of gray; there were a couple of Nicholas Sparks novels, and she’d even spotted Outlander lying open on the coffee table when they’d first arrived home, which he’d quickly removed.They might well have been left by an old girlfriend, but Mårten had mentioned in passing that he’d never actually lived with anyone before.Which was a shock in itself, but it explained the masculine feel to his cottage.While it’d been sensitively renovated, it was lacking those small, almost insignificant touches that only a woman could bring.
Summer finished her laps, got out and showered off the chlorine.It was still early, and she had the whole day to fill before Mårten came home.If only she could stop that stupid little desperate flutter of her heart every time she thought about cooking with Mårten in his kitchen tonight.Bumping elbows with him as she chopped vegetables.Watching the quirky way the corner of his mouth lifted as he concentrated on stirring a sauce on the stove.
Oh, blast!This would never do.More distraction was called for.And the gym next door would do nicely.
An hour and a half later, Summer stumbled out of the door to where her bicycle was locked to a special rack; she loved how the bike-centric lifestyle here in Sweden made everything so easy for someone like her who relied on her bicycle.Her legs wobbled a little as she lifted her bike from the rack, and she cursed silently.She’d overdone it with the weights today in an effort to rid Mårten from her system.Which was stupid; the last thing she needed was to injure herself a week out from a major race.
Looking up as she put on her helmet, her fingers stalled at the buckle as something caught her eye.
A woman was getting into a car on the edge of the parking lot.She had short, dark hair and was a little on the plump side.She looked very much like Paige.But that couldn’t be right.The FBI was still looking for her missing friend on another continent.Summer must’ve been seeing things.Her too-hard workout was making her hallucinate.It was a trick of the shadows cast by the flickering birch leaves in the sunshine, that was all.There were plenty of women out there who resembled Paige, and it was wishful thinking on Summer’s part.She wanted Paige to be alive.Wanted her to be rescued from this savage abductor so she could be reunited with her fiancé and then they could put Tyrone in jail forever.
The FBI was learning more about Tyrone King as they dug deeper into his past.His upbringing had been anything but stereotypical, as he’d been born in Pennsylvania, when his Black father had married a white dairy farmer’s daughter, not a common occurrence in that state.But it seemed he’d left Pennsylvania as an impressionable teenager after his father had committed suicide when the bank repossessed the dairy farm.
The story was terribly sad, but the real tragedy of Tyrone’s life emerged when Jacob told Mårten the reason the family believed they’d lost the farm was because a large gas company had drilled fracking wells on the outskirts of the farm and it’d poisoned their water, and in turn all their animals.Tyrone’s hatred of mining companies was now making sense, not that she condoned his actions.His story was that of a tragic villain with a painful past.But surely someone as astute and dynamic as Paige wouldn’t be drawn in by that narrative of heartbreak and woe.Would she?
Summer stared thoughtfully after the car as it completed a U-turn and sped off down the narrow country road and she lifted her leg over the bike seat and pedaled slowly back to Mårten’s.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“THAT WAS YUMMY.”Summer leaned back in her chair and patted her stomach with relish.“If you keep feeding me like this, I’m going to be like a whale wallowing through the water, not a honed athlete in the prime of her life,” she joked.
“You could never look like a whale.”Mårten replied.“As a matter of fact, you look great,” he added.
Where the hell had that come from?It was supposed to be a joke, but it’d come out wrong.He glanced accusingly at his wine.This was his third glass.Normally, he had one beer with dinner, and that was it.But he’d bought this red as it went exceedingly well with the reindeer steak he’d planned for dinner, or so the bottle shop attendant had told him.
Problem was, Summer did look great.Fantastic even.Relaxed and casual as they sat on the front porch in the evening sunshine in a pair of jean shorts and a tank top that again showed off her gleaming golden-brown skin, and long, toned legs.Black hair left long to cascade down her back.
She was staring at him with a confused look on her face.She’d also consumed three glasses, and her stare was a tad glassy-eyed.They’d both had more alcohol than they should’ve.Summer said she didn’t drink this close to a competition, but when he told her it’d bring out the flavors of the dish and made puppy-dog eyes at her, she’d relented.
She continued to stare at him, and he continued to be unable to withdraw his gaze, ensnared as he was by the dark pools of her irises, all huge and tempting.If there hadn’t been a table between their two chairs, Mårten may have leaned across and touched his lips to hers.Shit.Not good.
“I think we should go for a walk.”He stood, and Summer leaned backward in surprise.“It’s a beautiful evening, and we could walk off some of this food.”They needed to get out of here; it was becoming dangerous.She was becoming dangerous, this casual chatting, as if they were friends.Because he was finding it harder and harder to resist her.Yes, a walk was a great idea.It’d put some distance between him and Summer, help him get rid of some of that pent-up energy coursing around his body.
With a loud clatter of plates, Mårten cleared the small table and took everything inside.“Are you coming?”He didn’t wait for her answer as he banged through the fly screen door.
Three minutes later, Mårten was striding out, leading the way through the undergrowth around his house to a hidden walking trail that circled the outskirts of the suburb only the locals knew about.It wound between the birch trees, the white bark of their trunks glowing in the orange light of sunset, and led through open patches where you could often pick smultron, a small native strawberry.But Mårten barely noticed any of it; he was intent on only one thing.Getting his libido under control.
“Slow down.I can’t enjoy the scenery if you’re gonna pretend this is some kind of race.”Summer was only half joking as she jogged to catch up with him.
With a force of effort, he slowed his pace, listening as Summer exclaimed over a red-capped woodpecker tapping madly against the side of a tree, or a rare red squirrel darting across in front of them.After a few more minutes, the peace of the forest worked its magic, and he drew in a deep, calming breath.That was better.He needed to remember next time he got horny around Summer that a good dose of nature would set him straight again.Yeah, right, as if that was gonna work.
The path meandered through a little dell, with a ring of trees around a clearing of green grass and wildflowers.The setting sun filtered through the leaves, and it was very pretty.
“Did you tell Jacob about the woman I saw in the parking lot at the gym?”Summer’s question took him by surprise; he thought she was going to keep waxing lyrical about the forest, and he wondered why the sudden change in topic.
