All In (43 page)

64

D
avid stood perfectly still. He couldn't take his eyes off Natalia. She was sitting under an umbrella in the patio seating area and watching him with those intelligent eyes of hers.

Maybe it was fate that they were meeting like this. Maybe it was coincidence.

Or maybe he'd known exactly where she would be.

She was surrounded by that light that always seemed to emanate from her, wearing black linen slacks and a blouse that left her arms totally bare, black sandals, and those long, long legs. Everything, every last thing about her was perfect.

Perfect, and also something else.

David couldn't quite put his finger on what was different about Natalia, but something was. Her posture, maybe? Or the fact that she was dressed all in black? It was a dramatic color and it suited her. Made her look wild and strong.

David started walking toward her. Only then did he notice Åsa, blind as he was to her and to everyone else when Natalia was around.

Åsa fired him a sour look, raised a hand, and waved her fingers lazily at him.

“Hi,” David said once he made it over to them.

Natalia raised her head and looked at him. Her golden eyes, serious and unfathomable, looked right at him, not backing down, and he was struck by a strangely unreal feeling, as if the whole world had tipped a few degrees. It was all or nothing now. Åsa said hello, but David hardly noticed her, vaguely aware that he was being rude, but unable to do anything but look at Natalia. She was drumming a finger on the table. Her nails were dark and glossy, almost black actually, and he got the sense that she wasn't planning on making this easy for him.

Good, he had so much adrenaline in his body that it was booming in his ears. He needed a real battle, one that he was planning to win.

Åsa leaned back in her wicker chair. She put an arm on her armrest and in a downright nasty tone said, “Mr. Hammar. Out for a little Sunday stroll?”

“Among other things,” he said, his eyes still locked on Natalia. At no point had losing ground to Åsa Bjelke entered his plans. “I'd like to speak to Natalia,” he said. “Alone.”

Åsa stared at him. This was a woman to whom princes and the press bowed. She wasn't used to anything else. “You're kidding, right?” she said.

David temporarily glanced at her. He was essentially her boss,
owned
her, and he didn't have the patience to be distracted from what he was planning. “Do I
look
as if I'm kidding?”

Åsa scrutinized him. But she was wise, bit her tongue, picked up her purse with an exaggerated sigh, and asked Natalia, “Is it okay if I go?” She glared at David. “And leave you alone with him?”

Natalia nodded. “Yeah. Thanks,” she said, and added, “Sorry.”

Åsa rolled her eyes. “
You
don't have anything to apologize for.”

Åsa stood up, elegant as always, and squeezed her way past David. She stared him squarely in the eye and—with the help of her curves, her deadpan expression, and expensive perfume—managed to communicate very clearly that he might, technically speaking, be her boss, but he ought to be very careful. “Adios,” she said and left, sashaying out, with the eyes of every man in the place on her.

Except for David's.

Because David saw only Natalia.

Natalia made a quick gesture toward the empty chair, like a queen granting an audience. David exhaled. The noise around them returned, and he vaguely noted the clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversation.

“Have a seat,” Natalia said, and then added tartly, “It's not taken.”

He sat down, waved to a waiter, and ordered more mineral water for them both.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

She gave a faint smile, poked at a drip of water sliding through the condensation on the glass. “Well, you know,” she said. “Not much has been happening.”

He laughed at her obvious untruth, and even more importantly at the fact that she was joking at all. A sense of humor was good. “How are things with your family?” he asked.

She became serious. “Well, they've been better.”

“I'm sorry,” he said and meant it. Naturally he knew all about the YouTube movie, about her parents fleeing the country, and her family's general collapse, because no one could have missed that.

David hadn't confronted his managing director, but he knew Rima Campbell's sons were very active on social media, and he remembered how strategically her phone had been placed during the now-famous meeting. If she'd recorded Gustaf's outburst and if her sons had then made a movie out of it that crushed Gustaf for good, about that he could only speculate. In his eyes justice had been done, and the old patriarch had brought about his own downfall.

David had never wanted to hurt Natalia in any way, and yet that was precisely what he'd done. Regardless of how things went today, he would have to start thinking about his future in the financial sector. He couldn't have any more things like this on his conscience. “I'm really sorry.”

“Thanks,” she said simply. “And you? How's it going with Investum?”

“It's going well. You haven't changed your mind?”

She slowly shook her head. “No, I'm done with Investum,” she said. “Totally done.”

Her hand lay on the table. Glossy dark nails and light skin. David looked up and around the patio, tried to collect his thoughts and steel himself for the storm of feelings she roused in him. How could he ever have been so dumb—so
idiotic
—as to think he could remain unaffected when it came to this woman? Everything about her drew him in. The hair on her arms stood up, and his did as well. He saw and felt it.

“I've been thinking about what you said,” David began. “About my . . .”—he cleared his throat awkwardly—“. . . father.”

She cocked her head and said, “Yes?”

“My dad,” David said and stopped again. Fuck, it was going to take a while before he felt comfortable having an official, alive-and-kicking father.

“Carl-Erik and I have talked,” he began again. “Several times. There's going to be a piece about us in a magazine, where I presume we'll come out—as father and son. We agree now. He's my father. He's a widower, and I even met his daughters. We had coffee together.”

Meeting the two legitimate daughters had actually been unexpectedly pain-free.

She smiled. “Your half sisters?”

“Exactly.”

“How were they?”

“Sweet. They laughed a lot. They're a lot like Carolina. She is thrilled, by the way.”

Natalia watched him. “That sounds nice,” she said, and something glistened at the corners of her eyes. He identified it quickly. Natalia was moved. He hoped that was good.

“Apparently we own a castle in SkÃ¥ne—my family does, I mean,” he said.

She laughed. “I can just picture you as lord of the manor.”

“You can?” he asked skeptically. Personally he had a hard time seeing himself as someone who lived in a castle. He wasn't even sure he liked the outdoors.

But Natalia nodded, and he thought that for the sake of this woman he could learn to like grass and animals and woods. If it made her happy, he would do it, because that was all he wanted—for Natalia to be happy.

Of course, he'd bailed out Gyllgarn for her, the yellow castle she loved as if it were a person. Regardless of what happened between them, she would get it back. It was owned by a trust now, and there were some practical details left to work out, but essentially Natalia would get to decide about everything that pertained to Gyllgarn. He was lucky he'd been able to arrange it, he thought. Otherwise he would have been forced to stage yet another takeover.

“I was thinking . . . ,” he began, approaching his goal.

“Yes?” Her voice was calm, cool. She was a businesswoman who was used to tough negotiations, an intrepid talent who got back up, over and over again. He couldn't afford any mistakes if he was going to win her.

“If you don't want me here because of who I am, because of what I've done, then I'll respect that,” he said.

Her hands were completely still on her knee. She glanced down at them, and her dark eyelashes fluttered. She was immobile, and David's brain reminded him over and over again:
Don't lose her, whatever you do.

For a bit he'd thought he had a chance. She'd seemed happy and a little breathless, but now she seemed less open. He kept going, his heart pounding like a sledgehammer against the inside of his ribs. This was the hardest thing he'd ever done. It felt as if there wouldn't be any more chances besides this one, and he had so desperately little to offer.

“I can't undo anything,” he said quietly. “And maybe I've already messed everything up.” He put his hand on the table where hers had just been.

“I want to apologize,” he said. “For everything I've done to you, for tricking you, for saying things, for doing things—to you and to your family.”

“Thanks,” she said, but he couldn't read from that short word how she was feeling.

“I can't take back anything I've said or done,” he continued. “And a lot of what we experienced together, I would never want to take back. The time I spent with you, Natalia . . .” Here he had to stop and breathe.

She glanced up at him.

“When we saw each other that first time . . . I can't explain it, but I've never felt the way I felt about you with anyone else. I know I behaved badly. I
know
that, but you have to believe me when I say that I never intended to hurt you. And what we shared—that wasn't part of some plan on my part, quite the opposite. It was the most authentic, genuine thing I've ever been part of.”

Her eyelashes fluttered again.

“I don't know what to think,” she said. “You have a dangerous reputation.”

“I know. Some of it's true, of course. But I've never intentionally hurt someone—it's all just been business.”

“All of it?”

“Yes, even Investum. In the end it was just business.”

“But the other people?”

“I actively sought them out and took revenge on them for messing with my family,” he said. “But just by beating them at business deals, not through violence, not through humiliation. I can't take back what I've done, but I accept responsibility for it.”

“My dad said you slept with someone's wife, and I read that you tore down someone's house. That sounds awfully personal, not like something that was just business.”

“I agree, but it's not true either. I wound up in bed with a divorced woman, and I let that worm-eaten house be torn down. I'm not a saint, but I'm not some revenge-crazed demon, either.”

“Not anymore, you mean,” she said.

He shook his head. “Not ever,” he said, and that was the truth. He'd acted with a heavy hand, bordering on ruthless, but he'd never crossed the line. He'd never been so thankful for that as he was now. He planned never to lie to Natalia again; he'd made himself that promise.

“I don't know how you feel about me,” he continued. “But I want you to know something. I need to say this.”

She glanced up at him and said, “What?”

“I love you,” he said.

She swallowed. “You do?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he replied, simply.

Her hands didn't move, but at least she was still sitting in the chair.

“But you hate my family,” she said.

And David felt triumph within.

Natalia was raising obstacles. That was good. He was used to overcoming obstacles. That was his area of expertise.

“I'm tired of hating,” he said. “You were right all along. Revenge fossilizes you. I don't want to fossilize. I love you,” he said again. There shouldn't be any doubt whatsoever that he really meant it.

“But it would never work,” she said. “I want to be able to see my mother, my brothers. How do you think that . . .”

“I would never stop you from seeing your family. I would drive you there. And I would sit and smile and chat and be however polite you wanted. Or I could wait in the car. I would do whatever you wanted.”

He raised his hand, placed it on top of hers. They sat that way for a little while before she cautiously turned her hand so they were palm to palm. He squeezed her hand gently, trying to convey through hand pressure and skin contact just how much she meant to him, just how hard he would try not to hurt her again. “I know how important your family is to you,” he said.

“I don't know,” she said hesitantly.

She had doubts, but she hadn't said no.

He leaned forward, took hold of her other hand as well, and pulled both to him. “What don't you know?” he asked softly. “Tell me. Give me a chance to earn your trust.”

She looked him right in the eyes. She was so close that David could see those golden flecks in her irises. If she just leaned forward a tiny bit, he could kiss her.

“I'm pregnant,” she said steadily, her voice not trembling in the least.

David stopped.

Well, he hadn't seen
that
ball coming.

“I'm sorry?”

Natalia pulled her hands back and placed them on her knee again.

“I'm pregnant,” she said calmly and added, as if there could be any misunderstanding, “with your child.”

David blinked, slightly dazed.

“How far along are you?” he finally asked. He didn't actually have any idea about weeks and all that business, but the question seemed as good as any.