Read Nordic Heroes: In the Market and a Wholesale Arrangement for Free Online

vegetable.”
    Rainer stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “There are literally thousands of varieties, such as the Bonny Best, the Atom, the Droplet—”
    “The Cannibal, the Jetfire, the Dutchman—”
    He interrupted, his voice low and intimate. “The Moon Glow, the Perfecta, the Terrific . . .” He paused, his gaze unbearably seductive, and suddenly Mrs. Swenson ceased to exist. “The Crimson Cushion, the White Beauty, the Red Glow.” His voice lowered still further, caressing every syllable. “And the Venus.”
    She spoke crisply. It was a struggle, but she did it, emphasizing each chilly word. “The Subarctic, the Snowball, the Toy Boy, the Crackproof—”
    “You forgot the Superman.”
    She raised her chin and stared him straight in the eye. “And the When-Hell-Freezes-Over.”
    A delighted grin crossed Rainer’s face. “I must have missed that one. I’ll have to get out my Burpee catalogue and look it up.”
    “Well, which kind of tomatoes are these?” Mrs. Swenson wanted to know, peering from one to the other in bewilderment.
    Jordan didn’t miss a beat. “They’re the When-H—”
    “Behave-yer-selves,” he inserted smoothly, quelling her with a glance. “Behave-yer-selves Beefsteaks.”
    “That’s . . . different,” Mrs. Swenson said. “Where do they come up with such peculiar names?”
    “From peculiar people with strange senses of humor,” Jordan couldn’t resist saying.
    Rainer inclined his head. “Thank you, sweetheart, though I prefer eccentric to peculiar.”
    “We can’t have everything we want.”
    He gave a little sigh. “You weren’t listening this morning at the wholesale market, were you?” His relentless gaze intimidated her, made threats she knew he’d keep. “You’ll find I always get what I want.”
    “Not always, Mr. Thorsen,” she dared to remind him. “You lost the bananas.”
    He didn’t immediately respond, instead placing half a dozen tomatoes into Mrs. Swenson’s basket. Then he said gently, “I only lost if the bananas were my ultimate objective. They weren’t.” He allowed Jordan to mull that over, before adding, “I always get what I’m after. Some things take a little time, but in the end, I get them just the same. I always do. I suggest you remember that.” He smiled down at Mrs. Swenson. “Shall we move on to the roots?”
    I always do. His threat hung in the air. Jordan couldn’t have moved if her life depended on it. For the first time she knew fear, honest to goodness, belly-deep, stomach-curdling fear. What did he want? It was imperative she find out. Think, darn it, think!
    Unfortunately, her instinctive ability to grasp a situation chose that moment to desert her. Normally she could size up an individual with no problem, sensing his or her strengths and weaknesses. But this man was all strengths and no weaknesses. And without a weakness, how was she expected to decide on an angle of approach?
    Should she force the issue? Should she charm him? Should she toss him out on his lightning bolt earring? What angle would work best? Well, even without an angle doing something was better than doing nothing at all. She started after him.
    “Jordan?”
    Michelle caught her a few feet short of her goal. Rainer glanced over at them as though aware of her frustration at the interruption and winked.
    She dragged her attention from Rainer to the petite blond standing at her elbow. “Yes, what is it?”
    “That student you talk to all the time, Seth what’s-his-name, is here. He wants to run a tab on his order again.”
    “Do it.”
    The younger girl hesitated. “Uh, you see, his purchases are sort of high this time—twenty dollars and fifty-four cents—and that tab of his hasn’t gotten any smaller.”
    Jordan chuckled. “Sure it has. It’s easy. Just take the old tab, wad it up in a little ball and stick it in that round metal barrel beneath the register.”
    “The trash can?” Michelle’s voice squeaked in