Daughters (Nordic Fairies, #4) (5 page)

Svala got up and placed her hand on his arm. “To be fair, you were only fifteen when you wanted to sleep with me in the school supply room two years ago.”

Trym’s smile vanished. “Excuse me?”

Svala raised her hand toward him, an annoyed frown on her face. Trym stayed silent, but his face tensed with disapproval.

“We have to do something about this,” Viggo urged.

“I agree.” She nodded, but he could tell she wasn’t referring to the same thing he was. “We have to find a way to avoid her getting hurt.”

He closed his eyes, his daughter’s sexual intention on a bad loop in his head.

“How do you feel about pretending to be gay?” She asked.

***

Two months later

Viggo slumped down on the bench in the middle of the locker room after football practice, exhausted and out of breath. Sweat dripped from his forehead and on to his white shorts. He tore off his shirt to wipe his face and flinched when two hands landed on his shoulders in a steady grip. “Hey, Storm!”

Brian Dillon climbed over the bench to sit beside him. The boy grinned wide and as he ran a hand through his dark hair, Viggo lowered the shirt from his face and forced a smile. He didn’t care for this guy. Brian did nothing but brag about his sexual conquests.

“Hey, Brian. What’s up?”

Brian pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. “We should get a limo.” He nodded slowly, gaze fixed in the distance, as if this had been a difficult decision for both.

Viggo frowned. “For what?”

Brian gestured with his hands in the air. “For the prom, of course.”

“I’m sorry, I already have a date.” Viggo snickered.

Two guys behind them chuckled. Brian grimaced at the two boys then leaned closer to Viggo with a smirk. “Funny. Didn’t know you were such a comedian, Storm. That’s not what I meant, though. I heard you’re taking Svala.”

Viggo nodded and the excited glimmer in Brian’s eyes made his stomach drop. “Yeah. Still don’t understand why I have to rent a limo with you, though.”

Brian wriggled his eyebrows with a wicked smile. “Because I’m taking Freja. Where one goes, the other follows. I’m thinking, we have a much better chance if we join forces.”

Viggo’s clutched his sweater so hard his knuckles turned white. He stared into Brian’s smiling face, controlling the urge to place is fist in the middle of it. “Better chance of what?”

Brian’s smile morphed into a grin. “Well, of getting laid of course. What other reason to go to the prom?” He leaned closer. “Now, Freja won’t be difficult to persuade, it’s in her eyes, she’s ready to pop, but you might need some help with Svala. That one clearly needs some work.” He leaned back with a pleased expression. “So, what do you say? Limo? If we take turns, it’ll spare us the cost of a hotel room.”

***

Viggo hurried down the corridor and grabbed Svala’s arm before she disappeared into the restroom. “We need to talk,” he said in a hushed whisper.

She followed him to a more secluded area of the hallway, her eyes stirring with worry. “What’s going on?”

He scanned the hallway and pulled Svala closer as a group of students walked past them.

“What’s happened, Viggo? You’re scaring me,” Svala whispered.

He struggled to keep his voice down. “Brian Dillon is taking Freja to the prom.” His body shook, all his self-control exhausted from avoiding to run his fist through Brian’s smug face in the locker room.

Svala nodded, brows drawing together. “I know. She told me this morning. She’s really happy about it. What’s the problem?”

“The problem?” He failed to keep his voice down and some girls standing further down the corridor looked up. Viggo leaned in closer and whispered with strain. “He intends to sleep with her.”

Svala’s calm expression aggravated him further. She glanced around the hallway before she met his gaze. “Honey, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I don’t think she’ll mind. She likes him and she’s sixteen years old. She’s ready.”

He tensed. “Not with this guy.”

“You’ll feel that way regardless of who it is.”

“No.” He shook his head.

She arched her brows.

“Well, maybe I will, but this is not about that. Brian will sleep with her and then toss her to the side. He’ll make her feel worthless.”

“You don’t know that.” She smiled. “Relax. She’s over the moon about it. She’s finally over the fact that you’re gay and she told me Brian was her next-best choice. I don’t want her to be disappointed all over again.”

“Why can’t she go with someone else? Like Peter Riley.”

Svala grimaced. “Peter Riley?”

“Yes, what’s wrong with him?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “Sweetie, you’re going to have to accept this.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, furious with her for not siding with him on this serious matter. “I won’t. I want you to talk to her. I want you to tell her Brian is no good for her. She’ll listen to you.”

Her smile faded. “I won’t do that, Vig. I’ll talk to her about being safe and careful, but I won’t tell her that.”

“Then I will.” He turned.

Svala grabbed his arm in a tight grip and pulled him back. “Viggo!” She walked around to face him, her voice firm. “Viggo, don’t.”

“I won’t allow her to do this,” he hissed.

“What? Is that what you plan to tell her? That you won’t
allow
her?”

He didn’t know how to respond.

Svala grabbed his hand. “Listen, all we can do is to be there for her, but she has to make her own decisions. And let’s face it, you won’t be able to keep track of everyone she sleeps with for the rest of her life.”

1982

New York

Trym’s eyes narrowed as he opened the door to peek out at Viggo in the hallway, and then closed the door in his face. Viggo frowned and raised his hand to knock again, but before he had the chance, Trym reopened the door with a welcoming wide grin. “I’m joking.” He reached out for him. “Come on in. She’s almost done.”

Viggo sneered and stepped inside. “Very funny, Trym. Did anyone ever tell you your sense of humor gets worse with each passing decade?”

Trym chuckled and leaned against the wainscot wall in the spacious foyer. Not counting a side table made of dark wood and a matching mirror above, the black and white Victorian tiles were stripped of furniture.

“Well, you’re taking my little girl to the prom. I’ve seen the movies, I know how that ends,” Trym said.

Viggo glared at him. “Seriously, Trym. I know the deal. Hands off. You don’t have to remind me.”

Trym opened his mouth to speak, but Viggo cut him off. “Please. I really don’t need to hear it.”

Trym’s grin widened and he opened his mouth to speak but closed it again as Svala rounded the corner and came into the hallway. She wore a long strapless dress and the smooth lust-red material hugged her soft curves, swirling around her legs as she closed in. Viggo swallowed. Hard.

“Look at you. Just where we left off.” She glanced him up and down in the classic black tuxedo. When she reached up to caress his face, Viggo flinched and stepped back, bumping into the front door. He glanced at Trym for an expected outburst.

What is he still grinning about?

Svala’s brows furrowed. “You don’t know?”

Viggo flinched and tried to back away as her fingertips moved over his cheek. “Know what?” He shifted his gaze to Trym, still waiting for him to go off.

Trym shrugged. “I tried to tell him.”

“Tell me what?”

Svala beamed. “We’re allowed to be together. They informed us an hour ago. Didn’t Alva tell you?”

As the words settled, Viggo relaxed his shoulders and met Svala’s excited smile with one of his own. He moved in and grabbed her waist with both hands. “I left our apartment two hours ago to arrange the limo. I had no idea.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled wider as she tip-toed in her high heels. Her red lipstick smeared his lips, and he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.

“Well, don’t mind me,” Trym muttered by their side.

Viggo paused long enough to manage a, “Shut up, Trym.” Then pulled Svala into another kiss. After a while he glanced at his watch behind her back, and Svala pulled away. “Yeah, what time is it?” Her eyes shifted to his watch.

Trym crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, there’s no time for that, if that’s what you mean. You have to leave in less than ten minutes, and I hope for your sake he’s not that fast.”

Viggo glared at Trym again but his annoyance vanished with the humor in Trym’s eyes. He turned back to Svala. Her skin glowed and her eyes sparkled. He’d say she’d never been more beautiful, but that would be a lie.

“This is going to be a very long evening,” he said.

“I know, but we can’t let Freja see us. She’ll be devastated.” She leaned in for a quick kiss. “I just need to get my purse.”

“Okay.” He grabbed her waist, preventing her from leaving.

“Before the limo arrives,” she said, accepting his next kiss without resistance.

“Mhm.” He clasped her face with both hands to deepen the kiss.

“Do you want
me
to get the purse?” Trym asked.

Svala pulled away, her eyes sparkling. “No, I got it.” She pried her way out of Viggo’s hands and met his eyes with mischief. “Stay here and cool off. You’re supposed to be gay, remember?”

“Right.” Viggo closed his eyes, and massaged his temples with his thumb and index finger as she walked down the corridor toward her room. He opened one eye and watched the perfect slope of her back as she moved, biting his lower lip with a frustrated whimper. “I’m gay, I’m gay, I’m gay.”

Trym chuckled and straightened up. “Then what are you staring at her for?”

Viggo looked after Svala, a pained expression on his face. “Oh, shut up, Trym.”

***

Tacky paper decorations and balloons in different neon colors cluttered the hotel ballroom. The large area filled with students dressed in various creations, each more eye catching than the next. Svala’s long red evening gown stood out among the mini-skirt variations of ruffles and neon. Freja wore a cyan colored dress, much too short and too low cut for Viggo’s approval.

“If Brian doesn’t stop looking at her like that, I’ll punch him straight in the face. I don’t care about the consequences.”

They waited for the principal, up on stage, to finish his speech. Svala stood in front of Viggo and reached behind her back to squeeze his hand. Her head tilted lightly against his shoulder. “Actually, you’re the one who keeps staring. You’re giving her mixed signals. You have to relax and trust her.”

His face tightened. It was Brian he didn’t trust, not Freja. He detested the guy’s hands on his daughter’s waist, the way they wandered up and intentionally brush against her breast. How his eyes stayed constantly trained to the cleavage of her dress, and that self-satisfied grin of his when he caught Viggo looking, letting him know exactly what he planned on doing to his daughter once the evening came to an end.

Svala arched her brows and Viggo tried to control his emotions. He glanced at Brian, who’d just moved his hand too close to his daughter’s rear.

“Then again, the way you’re eye-balling Brian, she might worry you want to steal her date.”

Viggo turned back to Svala and grimaced. “You’re not funny.”

Her smile stole his focus. Her entire presence glowed, and he couldn’t wait for this evening to be over so he could go back to the apartment and make love to her. He scanned the ballroom to make sure no one paid attention, then slid his hand down her back side, over her hip where he paused to squeeze with a mischievous grin.

“Hey!” She warned, but allowed his hand to remain.

They glanced at Freja and Brian, who both focused on the speech. Viggo leaned in, placing his lips inches from Svala’s ear. “You’re killing me in that dress.”

She drew a sharp breath and closed her eyes. “Viggo, stop.”

Her smile didn’t convince him, so he squeezed again, his lips close to her ear. She gasped. “I want you,” he whispered.

Svala grabbed his arm for support and swallowed hard. “Viggo, if you don’t stop, I’ll end up losing my virginity in one of the bathroom stalls, and that is not what I had in mind.”

***

By the end of the evening, Viggo asked Freja to dance. Svala sent Viggo a silent warning, but he paid her no mind as he led Freja to the middle of the dance floor, relieved to get her away from Brian’s wandering hands.

“Are you having a good time?” he asked.

Freja leaned back in his arms and nodded with a brilliant smile. He didn’t care what Svala said, her smile was her mother’s and not his. Viggo couldn’t take his eyes off her, and as their eye contact lingered, Freja’s expression grew curious.