Though he kept his voice under control, his dark glare suggested that my words had hit a sensitive spot. “She doesn’t provide any extra services, if that’s what you’re implying,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t pay for sex.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I whispered. “She’s just so…blond and Swedish-looking and clearly dressed to please, so I couldn’t help but wonder if anything ever happened between you.”
Niklas frowned.
“Give me a little credit,” he growled. “If I were dumb enough to screw my housekeeper in the first place, I wouldn’t have her come over while you’re here, would I?”
I looked down at my hands, fidgeting with a loose string on my jeans.
“I’m sorry, Caroline,” he said after a moment. “But is that what you really think of me?”
I closed my eyes. “No, Niklas. But I clearly surprised her today, and I was dressed as if I was hoping you were there. And then she assumed I was ‘help’…”
I winced. As I spoke this last word, I understood that this was what bothered me the most about the whole encounter. I opened my eyes again and found Niklas staring at me. All the frustration had left his face.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I think I’d be furious if I were you.”
“Yes, I’m angry about that,” I said quietly.
I looked down at the sand. I traced the outlines of the pebbles scattered around me.
“There are parts of looking Mexican that are difficult here in Detroit,” I said slowly. “I guess I’m just wondering what it would be like in Sweden for me.”
Niklas frowned.
“Sweden has problems, too,” he said. “But we can get past them. Or move somewhere warmer if things get rough. Like Australia. No hockey.”
I smiled a little. “And nude beaches.”
“Exactly.” He found my hand. A little of the tightness in my chest eased.
“But why hire some beautiful young woman, when there are so many old, homely looking housekeepers out there to choose from?” I asked, managing a little smile.
Niklas chuckled, and the warmth in his voice gave me the comfort I needed.
“The truth is that she’s the cousin of one of the guys on the team. She’s working her way through culinary school,” he said. “I didn’t have any reason not to hire her.”
Niklas ran a hand through his hair.
“Yes, I know she comes over looking… available,” he conceded. “But she’s not my type. Not even close.”
Niklas leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine. He kissed me softly, teasing the seam of my lips. He coaxed my mouth open and slipped his tongue inside with long, languid strokes. His teeth grazed over my bottom lip as he moved away.
“You are my type, and you’re all I want. I don’t give a shit about what any other woman looks like,” he said, cupping my face and kissing me again. “Can we please be done with this subject? You’re just going to have to trust it’s that simple for me.”
I nodded against his hand.
“I’m trying,” I whispered.
He moved closer and slipped his arms around my waist. I rested my head on him.
“How was your morning?” he asked.
“I got the New Hampshire job.”
Niklas didn’t say anything. He buried his face in my hair, and his chest rose and fell against me.
I added, “And I talked to Veronica.”
