Nordic Heroes: In the Market and a Wholesale Arrangement (14 page)

Terry walked past, his cart fully loaded. He whistled tunelessly, acting as though he were blind and deaf to their little skirmish.

She waited until he’d pushed through the heavy plastic strips that served as an insulated door before resuming their discussion. “It’s embarrassing to have you trail along behind me. People will talk.”

She could see her concern didn’t have the least effect. “Tough. I’m here. I’m staying. And you’re cooperating. Understand?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“None.”

Jordan lifted her chin. “Then I understand.” She stalked to the door and shoved her way through the plastic strips, silently fuming.

The nerve of the man. No way could she get through a full week with his watching her every move. And no way could she get through a full week of all the stares and not-so-subtle comments flying back and forth along the dock. It wouldn’t take long before someone tackled her about them. She wondered who would come first.

She didn’t have long to wait. Andrea cornered her near a pallet of green bananas. “When are you gassing these greenies?” Jordan asked, hoping to delay the inevitable. “I need some yellows.”

“Tomorrow, and stalling won’t work. What is going on?” Andrea demanded in an undertone. “You can’t believe the rumors I’ve been hearing.”

“Sure I can.” Jordan ticked off the items on her fingers. “One. Rainer’s after Cornucopia, which you already knew. Two. He’s spying on us, which you also knew. Three. He thinks he can get the store through me.” She grinned. “I hope you know better than that.”

“Four. They say you’re sleeping with him. I hope you know better than that.” At Jordan’s shocked expression, Andrea hastened to add, “No, I don’t believe the rumor’s true. No, don’t waste your breath denying it. And no, I wouldn’t take it lightly, if I were you.”

Jordan closed her eyes. “Damn.”

“Don’t worry.” Andrea smiled with satisfaction. “I nipped possibility number four right in the bud.”

“Is the guilty party still walking?”

“Just. And what walking he does is with a limp.” She eyed Jordan keenly. “So what’s going on? If you haven’t been fool enough to fall for the Thorsen charm like I did, what are you doing here with Rainer?”

“I don’t have a choice,” Jordan admitted, then explained the situation with Uncle Cletus in a few terse sentences. “My back is up against the wall.”

Andrea groaned. “It’s suicide, pure and simple. You might as well hand him the market, lock, stock, and banana peels. He’s too powerful. Fighting Rainer, or any of the Thorsens for that matter, is like trying to hold back the tide.”

She was right, Jordan acknowledged. He exuded power. And like the tide, he swept away all her good intentions. Despite herself, she remembered the potency of his kisses, the strength of his touch, and the intensity of the passion he could so easily arouse. She chewed her lip. But what options were available to her?

Rainer’s appeared beside her, his silent approach unnerving. “Are you through buying?” He glanced at Andrea, his eyes alert and assessing. “I’m not interrupting something, am I?”

“Not at all,” Andrea said, and turned away.

Jordan grimaced, realizing despite her friend’s intense dislike for the Thorsens, she couldn’t afford to offend them. Not without angering her father. Looked like she and Andrea were both caught, each in her own particular trap.

“I want to check out Nick’s specialty room before we leave,” Jordan said to Rainer. “Where’s Terry?”

“Writing up your order and loading the truck. I told him I’d cart out anything else you need. You want to settle up with the cashier in the meantime?”

She shot him an angry glance. High-handed Viking! Did he think after ten years in the business, she couldn’t take care of her own needs? “There’s nothing to settle,” she informed him tightly. “We have a line of credit.”

His eyebrows shot up and his expression turned bland. “Lucky you.”

Without a word she walked away. This would have to stop, she decided. He knew entirely too much about their business. As soon as they returned to Cornucopia, a few ground rules would be laid down—laid down like a steamroller over pavement.

J
ordan pulled into the driveway of Cornucopia and drove around to the side, carefully backing the truck to the loading dock. She’d been acutely aware of the sporty red convertible following her the entire way to the store. By the time she exited the truck, her temper flashed past the boiling point.

“Not here,” he said, accurately reading her expression. He grabbed her arm, hustling her around the back of the store toward the house.

“Take your hands off me!” she demanded, fighting against his hold.

He stopped in his tracks. “Your choice. Inside and private, or out here and public.”

“In.”

“Key.”

She shoved her hand into her pocket and yanked out the house key, slapping it into his palm. Lord, he looked intimidating. Not that it mattered. She refused to allow him to intimidate her. No way. Not intimidated in the least.

“This isn’t going to work,” she announced the second they were through the door.

“Oh, yes, it is.” He stared at her from his great height, his eyes cold and stormy, his face set in lines of determination. “We’re going to hash this out here and now.”

“That should be my line,” she complained.

Not a hint of amusement lit his gaze. “By all means. Begin.”

“Fine.” She started pacing. “This is how it is. You’ve conned my uncle into allowing you to work at Cornucopia and learn all our secrets, but you’re not conning me.”

“I didn’t realize I tried to con you.”

She paused, color warming her cheeks. “You know what I’m talking about. You’ve . . . you’ve tried to bamboozle me.”

“I’ve kissed you.”

“Exactly.” Her pacing resumed. “Bamboozled me with your kisses. I’m not complaining about that,” she hastened to add. “I’m willing to let it go.”

“Generous of you.”

She ignored his comment. “I’m also willing to put up with you at the store for the week as agreed,” she continued doggedly. “But I won’t have you buying with me in the mornings. That isn’t part of the deal.”

“I say it is.” He studied her closely for a moment, then asked, “What did she say? And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Andrea Constantine. What did she tell you? Though I think I can guess.”

“Guess away. She didn’t say anything that isn’t being bandied about the docks already.”

A glimmer of amusement touched his features. “Ah. Now I understand. You and me. Me and you. The hint of romance. The suggestion of an affair.”

“So you see why I don’t want you coming with me anymore.” She gazed at him hopefully.

“I do.”

Jordan grinned. “Then it’s settled.”

“It is not.”

Her grin vanished.
“What?”

He dropped his hands to her shoulders. “I sympathize with your feelings, and I’m sorry today proved so uncomfortable. But the damage has been done, and I have a job to do.”

“Your job is more important than my reputation?”

“I am not damaging your reputation,” he stated coldly. “We are not sleeping together. Yet. And even if we were, it’s no one’s business but our own.”

Yet. What did he mean,
yet?
She flushed. Who was she kidding? She knew full well what he meant. The thought sent chills racing through her. She wanted him, she admitted. She’d tried to convince herself she had a bad case of lust. But it wasn’t simple, nor lust alone. She cared about this man, honestly, sincerely cared.

“Please, Rainer,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “If you’d like, I’ll make it clear to Nick that I’m interested in purchasing Cornucopia. He can make sure the rumors are stopped. But I’m coming with you in the mornings, Jordan, and that’s all there is to it. If you can’t handle it, have your uncle buy at Constantine’s this week and I’ll go with him.”

“You know that’s impossible! He couldn’t . . . He’s not . . .”

“Then he doesn’t belong in the business and you should urge him to give serious consideration to our offer. I’m amazed you’ve managed so long on your own. When do you have time for yourself?”

“It’s my life!” she shot at him. “Stop trying to tell me how to live it.”

“You don’t have a life,” he shot back. “You have a job.”

“Which I can do without any advice from you. I don’t need you!”

“Yes you do.” He tugged her closer, his grip on her shoulders tightening. “And while we have the privacy to discuss it, I expect your full cooperation this week, as promised.”

“You’ll get it.”

“I know I will.” He gave her a gentle shake. “Jordan, don’t fight me. You won’t win—”

“Stop telling me that.”

“Stop fighting!” His hands slid from her shoulders to her arms and then around her. “Stop fighting,” he whispered the words again. He drew her close, enfolding her in his embrace. His lips brushed hers, teasing, driving her wild with need.

She moaned softly. “You’ll take everything if I don’t fight you. I’ll have nothing left. I can’t give it all up.”

He kissed her again, his touch infinitely tender. “Do you think I only take? You don’t know me very well, my love. But you will.”

Jordan closed her eyes. She didn’t dare look at him, didn’t dare see the expression in those sea-washed eyes. If she did, she’d be lost for all time.

He kissed her. And finally, unable to resist, she surrendered.

N
ot long afterward, they returned to the market. Jordan observed the threatened chaos, grateful for the remaining work. This she knew how to do. This she understood. Cornucopia didn’t leave her dizzy and confused.

Why did Rainer? She didn’t understand her emotional state. It must be a hormonal imbalance. Even lust she could accept better than the alternative. She closed her eyes. It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. She didn’t have the time or the experience to love someone like Rainer.

She glanced at him furtively. He looked her way just then and she froze, praying her apprehension didn’t show. She’d gotten in too deep. The knowledge crystallized in her mind, growing, expanding, and filling her with dread. She forced her gaze away from his, staring blindly at a haphazard stack of corn crates. Time to pull back and regroup. Fast. Time to find a way out.

Uncle Cletus had made the biggest mistake of their lives when he invited this man to work with them. It was like setting the cat loose among the pigeons. And from the expression on Rainer’s face, he found pigeon pie mighty tasty.

“Where do we start?” he asked pragmatically enough.

Relieved, she drew a deep breath and looked around. “Let’s see . . . I have Andy and Leroy sorting and displaying the roots. Uncle Cletus always takes care of the salad fixings. And Walker handles the remaining vegetables. Michelle sets up the cash register. That leaves you to organize . . .”

“The rest?”

She glanced up at him with suspicion. Not a flicker of irony, or anything else for that matter, showed in his expression. “It’s all yours,” she agreed.

“And you’ll be doing . . . ?”

“Prices, signs, and troubleshooting.” She couldn’t help smiling. “Lots of troubleshooting.”

If she’d expected Rainer to question her every move, she learned differently in short order. True, he kept close watch of her activities. But if he formed any opinions as a result, he didn’t voice them. He also worked harder than anyone Jordan had ever seen, accomplishing more in five minutes than she could in thirty. By the time the store opened at nine, they’d completed every task.

Jordan shook her head in amazement. “I never thought it possible,” she muttered.

“That’s because you never had me at your side.” His eyes contained a warm, almost protective gleam. “See what a little help will do?”

She stirred uneasily. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Only she didn’t, and he knew it.

“So I see.” He selected a grape from the display he’d arranged and popped it into his mouth. “Don’t let the improved routine bother you, sweetheart. I’m in the business, remember? I know what I’m doing. And I can put out strawberries with the best of them. You should be upset if it hadn’t gone well.”