Nordic Heroes: In the Market and a Wholesale Arrangement by Day Leclaire Read Free Book Online Page A

are the facts. Deal with them, or deal yourself out.”
    “Volcanoes, typhoons, and now fire and brimstone. I like it,” he murmured.
    Jordan glared at him in exasperation. The man’s elevator definitely stopped shy of the penthouse. “In the meantime, move your carcass, or you’ll be wearing watermelon on that Viking head of yours instead of horns!”
    For a minute she thought she’d gone too far. His eyes narrowed, the blue as chilly as an arctic glacier. Then a small rumbling began deep in his chest, spreading and growing. He tilted his head back and laughed, the sound rich and full and attractive, turning the heads of the shoppers.
    “Yes! Now I understand,” he said. He caught hold of her chin, tilting it up, his firm grip curbing any resistance. “So, you’re a Valkyrie. I should have known.”
    “What’s that?” she demanded suspiciously.
    A smile edged the corners of his mouth. “A warrior maiden. In old Norse legend, they swept fallen heroes off to Valhalla. Is that what you want? To carry me off?”
    “And dump you in some mythical never-never land? It would be my pleasure!”
    “Mine, too,” he assured her. “With you by my side, I’d go willingly. But first I have a battle to fight—and to win. So ante up, deal me in, and prepare to lose.”
    He stepped back and for the first time in what seemed like hours, Jordan took a breath. Her jaw burned from his touch, while fury mixed with confusion burned within. A picture of his fingers stroking the plump red tomatoes flashed through her mind, adding to her confusion and banking her anger. She’d been right. His touch truly was exquisite . . . .
    She struggled to spark her anger anew, fearful of the strange emotions sweeping through her. She didn’t want to feel this way about Rainer. Dangerous didn’t begin to describe it. He wasn’t interested in romancing her. He wanted something more, something she’d fight tooth, nail, and big left toe to keep him from having.
    “I think you should leave,” she said in a low voice.
    “And I think we should find your uncle and get down to business. Where’s he hiding?”
    She hopped off the watermelon bin. “You have a very abrasive way of doing business. I’ll assume your family’s produce markets are successful in spite of you, not thanks to you.”
    His expression grew amused once more. “Assume anything you want. It’s to my advantage to have an opponent underestimate me.”
    One thing she’d never do was underestimate this man. He’d shown her all too clearly just how much charm and ruthlessness he possessed. He’d revealed as much at the wholesale market. And then, in case she’d misunderstood, he’d proved it again in her own store. Uncle Cletus’s store, she corrected herself grimly. It wouldn’t do to forget that small, though pertinent, detail.
    “Uncle Cletus isn’t hiding anywhere. He’s in the back, probably playing checkers with Walker.”
    A single eyebrow shot up. “He plays while you work? Curious setup.”
    “Uncle Cletus works very hard,” she leapt instantly to her only relative’s defense. “He isn’t a young man anymore, and what with his stroke . . .” She trailed off, shrugging.
    Satisfaction played across the appealing terrain of his face. “Then perhaps he’ll find my proposal of greater interest than I thought.”
    Jordan hesitated. He moved as though to head for the back of the store, and she grabbed his arm to restrain him. “Wait.” She licked her lips. “Please—” Lord, how the word came hard to her tongue. “Could you tell me what this is about? What do you intend to propose?”
    His gaze softened. “I think you know already, Jordan. Don’t make it any harder on yourself than necessary. Come on. I know all about family businesses. Since this is a family business, you should be there.”
    As she’d predicted, they found Uncle Cletus in the back with Walker. This time mangoes and kiwifruit littered their checkerboard, the game once