Nordic Heroes: In the Market and a Wholesale Arrangement (38 page)

“But I did not mention the cucumber,” Joe protested.

“You keep your cucumbers away from my wife.” With that, Thor hustled Andrea out of the cooler.

“You are not jealous, Thorsen?” Joe’s laughing voice followed them. “I would not like you to be jealous of me.”

Andrea stopped dead in her tracks. Jealous?
Thor?
Could he be? Grinning like a fool, she ran to catch up with her husband. That possibility hadn’t occurred to her, but recalling his frequent clashes with Joe gave her cause for hope.

“We’ll talk in your office,” he announced over his shoulder.

“I take it I don’t have any choice?”

“None.”

The minute they arrived, Thor slammed the door closed and snatched her into his arms. “I’ve changed my mind about a few things, starting with this.”

He cupped her head in his two hands and kissed her, a hungry, angry kiss. She fought him for a full five seconds—she did have her pride—before gracefully giving in. The kiss went on and on, his mouth ravishing hers as though he’d missed her with as much desperation as she’d missed him. Clearly, fifteen days apart was fifteen days too long.

“The next time Milano so much as touches your fingernail, I’m going to break his face,” Thor muttered, his teeth nipping at the lobe of her ear.

“He doesn’t mean anything by it.” She stumbled to a halt at the touch of his tongue grazing her neck. “He . . . he’s like that with everyone.”

“Not with me, he isn’t. And not with my wife.”

“Temporary wife.”

He pulled away, glaring at her. Dark red color suffused his lean cheekbones, his eyes glittering with a dangerous blue light. “Did you tell him our marriage is temporary? Is that why he’s here?”

“No—”

“He’s not to know. Ever.”

“He’s bound to find out eventually.”

“How?”

She sighed. “When we divorce.”

A strange smile touched his mouth, and he bent to kiss her again, gently, tenderly, with a sweet passion that left her clutching his shirt to remain upright. “So long as it’s not before then, I’m satisfied.” He gave an impatient groan. “My house is empty without you. When are you moving home?”

She stared up at him in confusion. “What are you talking about now?”

“I’m talking about changing the rules. I’ve missed you, and if that kiss is anything to go by, you’ve missed me. There’s no reason we shouldn’t enjoy our marriage, however long it lasts.”

“Forget it.” She stepped free of his arms, furious at him for assuming so much, but even more furious with herself. For a minute, she’d almost believed in the possibility of dreams becoming reality. “If that’s the only reason you’re here, you can leave. I have work.”

He hesitated, clearly preferring to argue. “It’s the most important reason I’ve come, but not the only one. If you insist, we’ll discuss our other problem.”

Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good. “Other problem?”

“You got it. This other problem.” He pulled an invoice from his pocket and handed it to her.

She glanced at the pink slip of paper and shrugged. “It’s our bill.”

“I know it’s your bill.” A muscle jerked in his cheek. “Why is it still so high? As Milano mentioned, the quality has been fantastic.”

She grinned. “Great.”

“Not great,” he contradicted. “The prices have been even more fantastic. Or perhaps I should say exorbitant.”

Her grin faded. “Not great? I don’t get it. I give you a standard markup over cost. How can I be so far out of line?”

He inspected her office. “I think I’m beginning to understand,” he muttered.

“Understand what?”

He gestured at her stacks of paper. “Look at this place. It’s total chaos. How can you run a business with all your records piled six feet high on every available surface?”

For the first time, she saw her room the way he did. Thor had a point, she conceded. An outsider could easily get the wrong impression. “I know where everything is,” she explained. “Tell me what you want and I’ll get it.”

He checked the bill. “Cauliflower. Let me see your bill of lading for cauliflower.”

In three seconds flat she had it in his hand. “Well?” she asked with a superior smile.

He compared the two papers. “I’ll admit you’ve given us a reasonable markup. So that’s not the problem. How do you order your produce?”

“We have set farmers and brokers we deal with, depending on the time of year and where the item originates. When we’re low, we call and order. Sometimes they call us with a special deal.”

“And they tell you the price?”

“Yes.”

“Do you dicker with them?”

She looked at him in bewilderment. “Dicker?”

“Bargain, haggle, negotiate. You know, dicker. Everyone does it. That’s how it works.” He eyed her with suspicion. “I thought you’d been brought up in this business.”

She flushed at his unwittingly discovering her major weakness. “I was.”

Unfortunately, she’d never learned how to dicker because her father hadn’t bothered to teach her. He hadn’t anticipated the need. Nor, she admitted honestly, had he wanted to give a woman that much control. Nick had always believed in keeping his hands firmly on the business reins, which included the buying and stocking of inventory. Could she help it if her specialty leaned toward PR and bookkeeping?

In the past seven months, she’d given it her all. Since her father’s death she’d spent every waking moment playing a massive game of catchup. Unfortunately, every time she thought she had the game nailed, someone came along and changed the rules.

“Well?” he asked impatiently.

“I know what dicker means.” She just didn’t know how to do it.

“She knows what dicker means.” Thor closed his eyes, swearing beneath his breath. “Let me guess what the real problem is here. You’re flying blind and too proud to admit it.”

“That’s not true, I—”

“I
assumed
you were at least familiar with this business. More fool me.”

“I am. I do—”

“I also assumed your problem was with greedy suppliers and competitors taking advantage of a woman.”

“It is, but—”

“It never once occurred to me that you stink at your job.”

“I don’t!” It took every ounce of determination to tell him the truth. “I’m inexperienced, not bad at my job.”

“Inexperienced?” He shot the question at her. “Why?”

Boy, did it hurt to explain how little her father trusted her, or anyone, for that matter. “Nick always handled the purchasing end of things,” she admitted reluctantly.

“That’s not customary, is it?”

She shook her head. “Other wholesale houses let the salesmen take care of it. I have Marco supervising the inventory, but since purchases were Nick’s job, I’ve handled that end of things.”

“Regardless of whether you’re capable.” It was a flat statement. “What else is there?”

She stirred uneasily. “What do you mean?”

“You’re being evasive,” he snapped. “The eyes, sweetheart, remember? They’re a dead giveaway. What else have you neglected to confess? What other problems should I know about?”

The loan. She’d kept very, very quiet about that. It wasn’t really a problem. True, she owed the money. But with the Thorsens’ help, she’d have no trouble meeting her monthly obligation to the bank. Perhaps she should mention it. For her father’s sake and for her own peace of mind, she’d use a wee bit of tact when explaining.

“There are some minor outstanding bills,” she conceded, stretching the truth more than a little. “As a result, Constantine’s isn’t as profitable as before. But we can meet all our expenses if we’re careful. With the Thorsens’ backing, we should be able to rebuild to where we were a few years ago.”

“What outstanding bills—”

Thor’s cell phone rang, and murmuring a quick apology, he checked the caller ID. “It’s Rainer. I need to take this,” he said. “What’s up?”

Andrea studied him while he spoke, smiling despite herself. He ran a distracted hand through his hair, ruffling the tawny waves, which gave him an impatient demanding edge, an aspect she’d experienced more than once. He answered his brother’s questions with brisk efficiency, his shrewd intelligence fascinating to observe.

She’d always enjoyed watching him. The very first minute he’d strode onto Constantine’s loading dock, she’d felt an inexplicable tug of desire. He’d experienced it, too. Even after she’d broken their engagement, she’d known he still wanted her. He’d just never allowed passion to overrule his common sense.

It was the same now. The moment something threatened his business he’d moved rapidly to counter it, willing to do whatever necessary to correct the situation. If there’d been another, easier solution to their current problem, his ring wouldn’t be on her finger.

She balled her left hand into a fist and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans. What she couldn’t change, she’d ignored. Her gaze sought Thor. Well, if not ignored, at least held at a safe distance.

He hung up and glanced at her. “Where were we?”

Discussing her outstanding bills. Not that she intended to remind him. She changed her mind about confessing all. Thor wasn’t the only one capable of putting business first. “You were analyzing my professional failings,” she informed him coolly. “You decided I’m lousy at my job which is responsible for Constantine’s downfall, rather than unscrupulous suppliers.”

“Ticked you off, did I?”

“Yes. Do you have any solutions to offer? Helpful solutions, that is?”

“For our business problems or our personal ones?”

She gritted her teeth. “Business. As far as I’m concerned that’s all there is between us.” She smiled tightly. “Nothing personal.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “You seem to have suffered a slight memory lapse, sweetheart.” He approached with a rakish grin that would have done Joe proud. “But you’re in luck. I know how to fix it.”

“No!”

“I’ve been thinking,” he continued, stepping over a stack of bills. “You’ve had a couple of weeks to become accustomed to our marriage. It’s time we set up some new ground rules.”

“Forget it.” She put some distance, along with several five-foot stacks of paperwork, between them. “I like the current ground rules just fine, thanks.”

“You move in with me.”

“No way.”

“Husbands and wives are supposed to live together.”

“I made a vow, remember? To Aunt Martha.”

“Matilda.”

“Whomever.”

He shrugged. “We won’t tell her. I’ll cook. You can clean.”

“I hate to clean.”

“You cook and I’ll clean.”

“I don’t know how to cook.”

“We’ll hire a housekeeper.” He knocked over three stacks of paper and caught her before she could scramble away. Taking the chair behind her desk, he pulled her onto his lap. “I wouldn’t wiggle like that, my love.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “It’s very distracting.”

She froze. “The business,” she prompted desperately.

“Right. We’ll work together while I help you get a handle on the purchases. You’re not using Nick’s office. If you don’t have any objections, I’ll operate from there.”

“I’m objecting all over the place,” she complained. “Not that it’s doing any good.”

He continued as though he hadn’t heard. “My secretary can help for a few weeks and clear up any backlog.”

“That sounds expensive.”

“Not at all. I pay my secretary. It won’t cost you a dime.”

She thought about it. She really did need help. If they could straighten out the remaining glitches in Constantine’s operation, having to work with Thor on a daily basis would be a small price to pay. She rolled her eyes. Who was she kidding? Working with Thor every day would be the next best thing to nirvana, something she should avoid at all costs.

“Agreed,” she finally said. “But I won’t move in with you.”

“You’d like to compromise. An excellent business ploy. You’re a fast learner. Okay, I accept. You don’t have to move in with me. I’ll move in with you.”

“No!” she exclaimed. “We can’t. That’s not what I meant.”

He shook his head. “You know compromise doesn’t work that way. I give in on something and you give in on something.” His hand moved in small circles up her arm. “I’m giving in on where. Now it’s your turn to give in.”

She wanted to. Lord, did she want to. She wanted to give in, give up, give way, and give over. Only a strong instinct for self-preservation saved her. In less than six months she’d have to live with today’s decision. If she hoped to survive the demise of their marriage, she needed to stand firm. Please let her stand firm!

“You can stop stroking my arm. It isn’t going to work.” It took every ounce of determination to keep her voice level. “I’m giving in on business. You’re giving in on our living arrangement.” She even managed a smile. “Or lack thereof.”

His hand circled the nape of her neck. “Are you sure?” he asked, regret underscoring the question.

“Positive.” Very careful not to wiggle, she eased off his lap. “Will you be working here tomorrow?”

He stood, the ardent lover fast disappearing and the dynamic businessman returning. “Count on it.” He captured her chin and studied her with cool determination. “And count on something else. You will live with me as my wife. Maybe not tonight. But soon. Very soon.”

She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until after he left. She released it in a great gusty sigh. Her situation became trickier by the moment. How long could she hold him off? How long did she
want
to hold him off?

The phone rang again and she picked it up automatically. “Constantine’s.”

“Ms. Constantine? Jack Maxwell here.”

“It’s Mrs. Thorsen now,” she corrected him. “I married Thor Thorsen a little over two weeks ago.”

A long pause followed her announcement. “Of Thorsen’s Produce Markets?” he asked.

“The same.”

“I guess it doesn’t pay to leave town.” He chuckled. “Shall I assume you aren’t interested in selling your wholesale business anytime soon?”

“’Fraid not.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He seemed to regroup. “I’ve met your husband a time or two, did he mention? He’s a good businessman. I’m sure he’ll help put Constantine’s back on track.”

Her voice cooled. “Thanks for your concern.”