Chapter 19

Jill leaned between the front seats and stared out through the windshield. “According to the GPS, you should turn off here,” she said to Ludvig, pointing to the right, out into the forest.

Ludvig didn’t reply. He hadn’t said a word the entire drive. His body language made it perfectly clear what he thought about her forcing him to drive them there. Jill, on the other hand, couldn’t care less; he worked for her.

“You sure he’s all right?” Ambra whispered.

Jill fixed her hair and leaned back. “He’s pissed. He wanted to stay in Jukkasjärvi and drink blue cocktails out of ice glasses.”

“Are you going to bring him into the sauna?” asked Ambra.

“Nah, he can drive around or something, pick us up later. Will we get any food?” Jill was starving, wasn’t sure she could hold back today, even if she would be around others. God, she felt like letting loose. Not just uploading pictures of food and desserts she then didn’t eat, but actually eating.

“He said there would be dinner when I called,” Ambra replied.

“Do you think he’s a good cook? He looks more like the type who’d club a moose to death and then eat it raw in his cave.”

“He’s fully civilized. I’m sure we’ll get good food.” Ambra sounded touchy. Was she nervous?

The GPS said something, and Jill shouted: “Ludvig! Turn here!”

“I knoooow.”

Jill stared out through the window. The branches of the enormous trees were bowing under the weight of all the snow. “So much forest. And snow. Hope we’re not going for a walk.”

Ambra looked at her. “But you’re dressed so practically.”

“At least I don’t look like a Christian social worker,” Jill replied.

As ever, Ambra was wearing pants and a sweater. They weren’t exactly ugly, but nor were they cute or flattering. Jill shoved her hand beneath her clothes and straightened her bra. Jesus, everything felt tight. Today’s outfit was a little on the impractical side—she agreed with Ambra about that—but this wasn’t her usual gang, and she felt a sudden pang of uncertainty. She usually hung out with people who admired her, who wanted something from her. People she didn’t feel inferior to.

She remembered Mattias Ceder perfectly well. Remembered how smart he sounded. Mattias looked like the kind of person to take 40,000 credits worth of classes in college, while she barely made it through high school and hadn’t opened a book since. Singing was all she was good at, and usually that was more than enough, but whenever she was among educated people, she felt stupid. Then there was the intense, silent Tom. She didn’t understand him at all, and actually found him pretty scary. No, she needed these clothes tonight. She might not be smart or have a good education or an important job, but she was hot.

She was here for Ambra, she reminded herself. Ambra liked Tom, and Jill couldn’t remember when something like that last happened.

* * *

Mattias lifted the big, shiny char onto the chopping board and started to fillet the fish. He enjoyed cleaning fish, preparing it.

“Did you catch that yourself?” Tom asked. There were plenty of options for ice fishing around them, but Mattias shook his head. He hadn’t been fishing in a long time. “But I bought it from one of those vans selling fish, so it’s from the area.” He expertly cut out the fillets and placed them on the chopping board. After that, he quickly removed the bones, fins, and fat. “Could you drain the potatoes?” he asked, nodding toward the stove.

Tom took the pot and drained the water from the almond potatoes. Mattias took out shallots, wine, and cream and made a quick sauce; he chopped some dill and folded in a couple of egg yolks, seasoned with mustard. He had managed to get hold of good-quality ingredients, and he enjoyed cooking, but he was starting to feel like it would soon be time for him to leave Kiruna. He’d been planning to leave that evening, but that was before he heard Jill Lopez would be coming. One more day, he decided. Her sex appeal was probably overexaggerated in his mind. Just as well he got it out of his system now, so he could stop with the sexual fantasies every night.

Tom closed the refrigerator door, opened a beer, and handed it to him. Mattias drank straight from the bottle and studied Tom, who was staring into thin air with a frown. Mattias put down the beer and transferred the fish to the oven.

“So I guess you like her? The journalist?” Mattias asked.

Tom shrugged. “She’s okay.”

Tom had a bottle of champagne in the refrigerator and he also smelled good, so Ambra was probably more than that.

“They’re here,” Tom said. Mattias hadn’t heard a sound, but Tom always did have unnaturally acute hearing. A moment later, Freja started to bark. Mattias looked at the dog.

“The pooch, what’s the deal with her? Are you going to give her back?”

“Yeah.”

Mattias now heard the car pull up outside. Freja growled deeply and followed them to the front door.

Tom opened it, and the snow swirled inside. Ambra Vinter was on the porch, stamping her feet, wrapped up in a scarf and hat.

Jill Lopez was behind her.

With all of her sex appeal.

Jesus Christ, the woman looked like she could melt the North Pole.

“Hi,” Tom said.

“Welcome,” Mattias said. “Come in.”

Ambra floated inside in a cloud of snowflakes and subzero air, and then Jill swept by, wearing sky-high heels, a pale brown coat, jingling jewelry, and glossy lips. She looked fantastic. Vulgar, curvy, hair-raisingly hot.

After the two women took off their coats, unwound their scarves, pulled off their hats, and checked themselves in the mirror (Jill, not Ambra), they waited with Tom in the living room while Mattias fetched the champagne. Jill took the glass he handed her, her long fingers stroking the crystal. Ambra nodded in thanks.

Tom raised his glass. “Welcome,” he said.

The two women sipped their champagne—a really good bottle, Mattias thought approvingly, if expensive and flashy, but definitely nothing to be ashamed of. He liked his wine the way he liked his women: sophisticated, elegant, tasteful. He studied Jill. Who wore patent leather heels in weather like this? She was wearing a figure-fitting dress made of what Mattias was sure was expensive cashmere. It clung to her curves like a second skin and was belted tightly at the waist. Her jingling earrings grazed her neck, and a huge necklace drew his eyes down to her exceptional décolletage. Ambra glanced guardedly around the room while Jill stood in the center, her back straight and her jaw confident.

“This house isn’t half bad,” she said. “When Ambra told me we were going to a cottage in the forest, I thought it would be a hovel.”

“Cottage?” Tom said with a questioning look at Ambra.

She pulled an apologetic face. “I only saw the barn,” she said.

“Hmm,” he said, running his hand over his bearded chin. “Want to see the rest of it?”

The women nodded.

“While you show them around, I’ll finish the food,” Mattias said. His eyes happened to land on Jill again. It was hard not to, there was so much of her. Curves, high heels, body-skimming clothes. Jill flashed a slow smile.

“What?” he asked.

Her eyes darted across the apron he had forgotten to take off before they arrived. “Nothing. You are cute as a housewife,” she said, turning around.

* * *

Ambra stared out of the window in the living room. The house, which Tom was apparently borrowing from an acquaintance, was built on a slope, and this side looked out onto forest and an open expanse of meadow. During the day, the views out of the enormous windows must be incredible. The entire house was oversized somehow, masculine. The ceiling height had to be approaching seven meters in the living room, and it was full of huge couches, thick reindeer skins, and an enormous open hearth where a fire was crackling away. Beams on the ceiling, and then those huge windows.

Tom appeared next to her. He smelled great. Freshly showered. He was wearing a black sweater again. No slogan, plain black, and tight across his chest and arms. If he was anyone else, she would have assumed he was showing off his muscles, but he seemed to completely lack that kind of vanity. Aside from the fact that he smelled so good. She sniffed gently.

“I’m glad you changed your mind and decided to come,” he said quietly. He didn’t smile, but his eyes were warm.

“I’m a little nervous about the sauna part,” she admitted, sipping her champagne.

“We’ll take care of you, I promise.” His voice was comforting, and she knew that if there was one thing she could rely on, it was Tom’s ability to take care of a person. “Are you hungry? Mattias has made enough food for an entire company.”

She swirled her glass a little. “How big is a company, exactly? I’ve always wondered.”

“Smaller than a brigade and bigger than a platoon.” His dark eyes glittered, and she felt herself being drawn to him. He was a mystery, this man. What did it mean that he’d invited her over? What did he want from her? Did he want anything?

“And yes, I’m hungry,” she said. The smells coming from the kitchen were fantastic, and the champagne had already gone to her head.

They sat down at the table in the living room, with the snow outside and a crackling fire not far away. Candles lit and lights dimmed. She cast a glance at Jill. Even she was impressed, Ambra could see it. Good. You never knew with Jill. She could be a real pain if something didn’t live up to her expectations.

Ambra was next to Tom, with Jill and Mattias opposite. As Mattias served the food, Tom poured white wine into huge glasses.

They toasted. Ambra and Tom looked at one another, and it felt utterly surreal that they were sitting there, in the middle of the woods, at what most resembled a couples’ dinner party. Ambra tried to remember whether she had ever been to one. The closest she could remember was a piece she wrote about a dinner party that ended in murder in Örebro. She sipped her wine, decided not to mention it. She met Jill’s amused eye over the table and prayed silently that her sister would behave.

“What’s on your schedule going forward, Jill?” Mattias asked.

“I have a show in Stockholm on New Year’s Eve, and then it’s spring, new shows and a tour.”

“Are you going to be on the Melody Festival this year?” Ambra asked as she poured more sauce and helped herself to salad. It was a huge televised musical competition. First in Sweden, dragging on for weeks on TV, then a big finale in one of the European capitals, complete with scandals, drama, and maximum publicity. Jill had competed on the glittering TV show once, came in second, and had a smash hit with her entry.

But Jill shook her head. “I don’t know, I need to make up my mind pretty soon.” She ate a forkful of fish, potato, and sauce. “I do need a new hit—it’s been a while. But I’m a bad loser. I can’t handle faking happiness for someone else,” she added.

Mattias laughed gently. Jill smiled and ate another forkful.

“You’re very different, for sisters,” Mattias said, studying Ambra and then turning back to Jill. He was right, they couldn’t be more different.

“I’m youngest,” Jill said.

“One whole year younger,” Ambra said drily.

“We don’t have any biological connection, and we’re not really even proper foster sisters,” she continued, using air quotes as she said the last part. “But we’ve stuck together since our teens.”

Tom didn’t say much, but he listened intently, topped up their wine, and nodded every now and then. There wasn’t a centimeter of Ambra that wasn’t aware of his presence.

“Go on,” said Mattias. He had an incredible ability to make people want to talk. Calm, attentive.

“I ended up in the foster system when I was young,” Ambra began. “By the time I was fourteen, I’d been with so many families I lost count. I’d run away a number of times, and social services didn’t know what to do with me. I’d given up on everything.” She nodded to Jill, who continued their story.

“And I was adopted from Colombia,” she said. “I was in an orphanage there for the first few years of my life, but then I was adopted by a crazy Swede and her equally crazy husband. One day, I decided I’d had enough and ran.”

Jill was good at that, lightening her hellish childhood with a couple of amusing sentences. In truth, she had been dumped on a rubbish heap in Bogota, found, and then left again on the steps of an orphanage run by nuns. Jill never spoke about it, but Ambra assumed things hadn’t been easy in the orphanage. She’d read enough horror stories about what went on in similar institutions. After that, Jill ended up with the mentally ill, alcoholic Swedish lady and her awful husband. Jill’s childhood had been a living illustration of out of the frying pan, into the fire.

“We met by chance one summer,” Ambra said.

“How?” Mattias asked. He seemed so warm and empathetic. Someone you wanted to trust with all of your secrets.

Ambra glanced at Tom. He was studying her intently. He was on her side, she realized. He would never let anyone hurt her. Wherever had that exaggerated thought come from?

“I’d run away from my adoptive family,” said Jill. “I refused to live with them anymore. Not that they wanted me, either. I think they hated me.” Jill once told Ambra that her adoptive mother said they were planning to adopt a different, younger child but that they had been talked into taking Jill. “I’ve regretted it every day since,” her adoptive mother had added. Toward the end, they’d forced Jill to live in the garage and threatened to send her back to Colombia.

“I was placed on a farm in the countryside,” Jill continued. “With a woman who kept horses and took in difficult girls.”

“Did you stay there?”

“Yeah, until I turned eighteen. But by then I’d already started touring. It did me good to live in the countryside. It was really calm out there.”

“Until I turned up,” Ambra interjected.

“Yeah, and then all hell broke loose,” Jill agreed with a laugh.

Ambra was fourteen. She had long since left the Sventins. The new foster family she was living with hadn’t wanted to take her on vacation with them. They weren’t allowed to do that. Foster kids were entitled to the same standard of living as all other family members. Or that’s what it said on paper, anyway, though Ambra had been through almost everything by that point, and nothing surprised her. So the family left, and she was sent to a farm in the countryside by her stressed social worker. They were always stressed. Always running off to something more urgent.

“Doesn’t sound like you found each other right away,” said Mattias. He refilled their glasses.

“Not exactly.” Ambra smiled. Jill was a full-fledged bitch even as a thirteen-year-old, and Ambra hadn’t trusted a single soul by that point.

“It was hate at first sight,” said Jill.

Ambra nodded. “We fought like animals.” It was no exaggeration; they’d clashed almost every day in the beginning. Ambra was convinced she was going to be sent away. But the woman who ran the farm—Renée—stuck it out. She managed to give Jill the attention she needed and she also gained Ambra’s trust. The years they spent on the farm were an oasis for both of them. A turning point.

“What happened?” Mattias asked.

“Since we didn’t manage to kill each other, we became friends instead. Gradually,” said Jill. It was a difficult process, but one day, when Ambra was being picked on in school, Jill beat up the bully, and their relationship changed. Or maybe they just matured.

“Jill started singing and I started studying,” Ambra added. She was tired of teachers who shook their heads, principals who pursed their lips, and she had been torn between dropping out of school or really knuckling down. Even today, she was deeply grateful to her teenage self, who had possessed enough brain cells to make the right decision.

“I had my breakthrough on Swedish Idol when I was sixteen, and that changed everything,” Jill said.

“Sounds like it was good for you?” said Mattias.

She nodded. “Singing probably saved my life. And Renée meant so much to us. She encouraged our friendship and sisterhood. Since neither of us have any biological siblings, we decided to be one another’s sister. It’s been that way ever since. And no matter which way you look at it, it’s the longest relationship either of us has ever had.”

“What happened to Renée?” Tom asked quietly.

“She died,” was all Jill said. She looked away.

Renée’s death was a damn tragedy. The one good thing about it was that, by that point, both girls were older than eighteen. No more foster homes. Jill went off on tour and Ambra decided to study journalism.

“She had cancer,” said Ambra. Shitty illness.

Jill held out her glass. “No more about that,” she said encouragingly. Ambra nodded. It was far too nice an evening to be delving into gloomy thoughts. But she did miss Renée. Often.

“More wine?” Tom asked.

She nodded. His arm grazed against hers when he picked up the bottle.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry,” she mumbled back, wanted to touch his arm, run her fingers over those strands of hair, smell him a little more. Freja came over and positioned herself between them. Ambra gently stroked her rough coat. Freja laid her head on Tom’s leg for a moment and then she turned to Ambra, sniffed, and did a loop of the table.

Jill studied the dog, though she didn’t say anything.

“Ambra, how’s your work going up here? Are you doing any more interviews?” Mattias gave her a warm smile.

“Not right now. There’s one thing I’m looking into,” she said. She didn’t elaborate. Spying on her old foster parents seemed too disturbed.

“Do you like your job?” he asked.

“A lot.”

“Ambra’s passionate about saving the world,” said Jill.

She didn’t say it in a mean way. And she wasn’t completely wrong. Ambra put down her cutlery and breathed out.

“Full?” Tom asked.

“That was incredibly good,” she said, noticing that even Jill had cleaned her plate.

“Have you ever been to the Icehotel?” Tom asked her as Jill explained that she had just come from there.

“No.”

“It’s actually pretty cool,” said Jill. “You should go over there, Ambra. Now I’m stuffed. What do you say, time to get undressed?” She gave Mattias a flirty look.

He nodded, though his expression didn’t change. “We can have dessert later. The sauna’s warm. Tom, if you show them where to get changed, I’ll clear the table.”

Ambra and Jill followed Tom downstairs.

“You can use this as a changing room,” Tom said as he turned on the light.

The women looked at each other. The house didn’t just have a sauna in the basement, as Ambra had assumed; the entire lower level was made for relaxing. One wall consisted of individual shower booths, and against the other there were armchairs, small tables, and wicker baskets. Tom moved around the room, lighting the candles. The mosaic tiles glittered in varying shades of copper.

“You’re both so quiet,” Tom said as he opened a cupboard and took out some towels.

“I don’t know why, but I assumed it would be some kind of bachelor’s sauna, full of cans of beer and other unhygienic things,” Ambra said. Jill nodded in agreement.

Tom smirked. “Nah, we got rid of all the unhygienic stuff before you got here. The left-hand shower can be for the ladies.”

Ambra took the pile of towels he held out to her. They smelled freshly laundered, and they were almost laughably soft amid all the grand manliness of the house.

After she and Jill closed the door to their changing room, she heard Mattias arrive. Soon after, they heard the mumbling of the men’s voices from the other room.

“What do you think?” Ambra whispered as she took off and folded her jeans.

Jill raised a perfectly penciled eyebrow and gave her a long look. “That you should invest in a wax, maybe?”

Jill herself was wearing a G-string and a lacy bra from some ridiculously expensive brand, and it was clear she was waxed clean. She was so beautiful it was painful, Ambra thought, withstanding the impulse to look down at her own utterly ordinary body. Jill was naturally olive colored, as if she had a constant tan. She was much curvier than a model, but she was perfectly proportioned, as though she had already been Photoshopped. Yes, Jill had a personal trainer and was constantly on a diet, but it was completely insane that a person could look like that. And wearing a G-string and delicate lace—things very few women could get away with. Ambra took off her cotton panties, soft and comfortable, but hardly sexy. She didn’t have much of a bust, and her bra had seen better days. But still . . .

“I’m glad you came with me,” she said honestly. Jill was her family, and it didn’t matter that she was too hot.

“Of course you are. They seem nice enough, they seem like straight-up guys, but you did the right thing not coming alone. I have pepper spray in my purse.”

Ambra was fairly sure that neither Tom nor Mattias was a man who could be stopped with a little pepper spray. “Are you interested in Mattias?” she asked, still whispering.

Jill shook her head. “He’s far too decent. And a little snobby, with his wines and all the books he’s read, don’t you think?”

Ambra thought Mattias was sociable and polite, and he had mentioned one book he liked, in passing, while they were discussing literature. But Jill always did have a complex when it came to her education, and she usually preferred men who were a little more . . . one-dimensional. Plus, she could see Jill was lying. She liked him, all right.

“What about Tom?” Ambra asked as nonchalantly as she could.

“He’s super cheery, isn’t he? You two are a good match.” Jill stepped out of her G-string and unclasped her bra. Ambra handed her one of the towels. Jill wrapped it around herself and managed to look like an ultraglamorous film star, even in pale gray terry. “He was checking you out,” she said.

“What?” Ambra didn’t like how eager her voice sounded. She needed to control herself better. But she had noticed it too.

“You said he has another girl?”

“An ex. Ah, I don’t know.” Ambra wrapped a second towel around herself and almost drowned in all the soft material. She wiggled her toes on the heated floor. “But you’re the one who said he was looking at me. I have no idea what he thinks of me.”

“Men. They’re either boring as hell or completely incomprehensible,” Jill said. She opened the door to a toilet, sat down, and started to pee, completely unembarrassed.

“You could close the door,” Ambra pointed out.

“I don’t like closed doors. Listen to me now. You’re a hundred times better than I’ll ever be. Loyal and super smart. You’re one of the people they’ll want to keep around if the world’s about to end and they need to choose the thousand smartest people. You’re one of the best, Ambra. And any man who can’t see that really doesn’t deserve you.”

Ambra stared at her, astonished. “Thanks,” she managed to say.

Jill wiped herself, flushed, and quickly washed her hands. “Just be careful. Those tortured, silent types, I don’t get what it is about them that some women find so attractive. You don’t think you can fix him, do you? That never works out, I swear.”

“Thanks for all the advice I didn’t ask for. But don’t you think the relationship between them is weird?”

There was something going on between Tom and Mattias, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Something bubbling beneath the surface.

“No idea. But you know I don’t really care about other people’s problems. Come on, let’s go get a look at some male bodies.”

They quickly showered. Ambra wrapped the towel around herself again and crossed her arms to guarantee it wouldn’t fall down when she stepped out of the shower.

The men came out at the same time, and it wasn’t the most relaxed situation she had ever experienced. Four people who barely knew one another, wearing only towels. She tried not to stare at Tom, who had a towel wrapped around his waist and nothing else. She looked at him, counted to one, two, looked away for a while, and then peered at him again. She had met enough military, ex-military, and wannabe-military types to be able to separate the wheat from the chaff. Tom and Mattias were the real deal. Tom was a fighter, a man who was used to—possibly even comfortable with—deathly violence. The result was roughly 50 percent troubling and 50 percent sexy. It was strange. She had met men like him before, at least in terms of appearance, without feeling the slightest attraction. In fact, the opposite was true. The safety courses the paper sent her on were always led by men like Tom Lexington. Big, tough men who were more than happy to fix their eyes on you and roar: I’VE BEEN DOING THIS FOR TWENTY YEARS. YOU DO THAT IN REAL LIFE, YOU’RE DEAD. HEAR THAT? YOU’RE DEEEEEAADDD.

Except Tom never roared, tensed his muscles, or showed off. He was more like an experienced predator. Silent and observant. And, like she said, sexy.

She gave herself two more seconds, and her eyes darted across his naked torso. Je–sus. Christ. Muscles everywhere. A little black hair. Dark nipples. Rock-hard abs. Lots of scars.

She didn’t dare look at Jill, convinced that her sister would know exactly what she was thinking and blurt out something that would make her way more embarrassed than she already was. Ambra had done far more unusual things than this: traveled with shit-hot men without any makeup, gotten changed in front of men, a load of things that she didn’t care about. She wasn’t the least bit self-conscious in front of Mattias, for example, even though he, too, was wearing nothing but a towel. But Tom . . . he affected her, made her feel conscious of her own body and what it might get up to.

Mattias held open the door, and Ambra stepped into the sauna. The heat hit her like a wall. The wood crackled, and Mattias picked up a copper bucket and poured water onto the heater, causing clouds of steam to rise. There were huge windows out onto the woods and the darkness, and it was so hot that she started sweating immediately. She studied the sauna as Jill puffed and panted and commented on the heat from behind her.

Three benches, two half-naked men, an unpredictable foster sister, and her.

There was no telling how this would end.