High Risk

Tom studied his face in the mirror, turned, and tried not to drop his cell phone into the sink. “Shaving.”

“Yeah, I’m going to a party.” Tom dragged the razor across his cheek, cutting a path through the foam. He shook it off over the sink and repeated the process.

“So you’re still in Stockholm?”

Tom didn’t reply. He was fairly sure Mattias knew exactly where he was. Mattias wasn’t the type of man to sit around waiting for information. He got hold of it himself.

“Did you go into work yet?” Mattias asked.

Tom lifted his chin to start on his throat. “Yeah.”

He had been in to the office that week. It went unexpectedly well. The majority of his team was ex-military, plus a few former police officers, and they acted like it was no big deal when he showed up, which felt good. Maybe he would be able to go back after all.

“I hired Filippa,” said Mattias.

“The hacker?”

“Yeah. Plus a cryptologist I interviewed this week. Competent and smart, a real asset. It’s going to be a great team, maybe the best I’ve ever formed. But I want you too. We need your skills. I need them.”

But Tom’s mind was made up. He didn’t want anything to do with Mattias or the Armed Forces. They would have to find his skills somewhere else. He pulled the razor across his skin again, didn’t say anything.

Mattias, who always did have an unnatural ability to know precisely what Tom was thinking, said, “Tom, how many times do I have to apologize? Can’t you get over what happened? We’re soldiers; sometimes we just have to accept what happened.”

Tom swore. “I’m getting shaving foam all over the phone.”

“Is Ambra going to the party?” Mattias asked.

“Bye.” Tom put down the phone, finished shaving, and rinsed his face. He checked that he hadn’t missed anything, patted aftershave onto his skin, and thoughtfully studied his reflection.

He had said he would go. But if he didn’t have plans to meet Ambra at the party tonight, he would have been tempted to cancel. It was a long time since he’d last had a real anxiety attack, but seeing so many people, exposing himself to popping corks and bright camera flashes, was that really so smart? He didn’t want to embarrass himself, particularly not in front of David Hammar or Alexander De la Grip. Oddly enough, he wasn’t all that worried about embarrassing himself in front of Ambra. She had witnessed his panic attacks before, and he wasn’t worried about what she would think of him. But the others . . .

He combed gel through his hair and started to get dressed. It was a long time since he’d last worn a suit, but it was a festive occasion and he wasn’t completely without vanity. He cut off the price tags, then put on his watch and a new pair of cufflinks, black obsidian. He wanted to look good tonight. For Ambra’s sake.

It was cold today in Stockholm, colder than Kiruna, ironically enough. The thermometer was approaching four below zero, and it was windy, so he pulled on a thick coat over his suit and picked up the handmade shoes he had bought; he could take off his boots when he got there. He took the enormous gift beneath one arm, grabbed his cell phone and wallet, and left the apartment. He glanced at his watch in the elevator. He would be early. Good. He hated being late.

* * *

When Tom pulled up outside the Gardens of Rosendal, the parking lot was already full. Expensive cars, some even with private chauffeurs, and a line of cabs. Long red carpets unrolled on the snow. There were huge iron drums full of burning wood, and the fires sent cascades of sparks soaring into the night sky. The pink castle that had given the gardens their name was visible in the light of the fires.

There were people everywhere, he noticed as he locked the car. Men in suits and women in long, colorful dresses and thick coats, shoe bags in their hands as they walked down the red carpet toward the party—an enormous greenhouse. Crystal chandeliers and small strings of lights lit up the glass building in the darkness, making it look like a glittering, hovering vessel studded with billions of stars. Music and the scent of food made their way out into the winter chill.

There was a line to get inside, and Tom joined the end, waited patiently for his turn. There was an elegant couple with a child in front of him, a pair of celebrities behind, talking admiringly about the luxurious setting for the party. Ambra had said she would take a cab, so he was waiting alone among the couples and occasional family with small children.

Alexander De la Grip was welcoming the guests at the entrance. His wife, Isobel, was by his side. They were shaking hands and smiling at everyone. The two were a strikingly beautiful couple, and their love almost seemed to cast a glow around them. It was obvious in every gesture, every glance. As Tom approached, he saw the child between them, a slim, serious boy in glasses. Marius. Tom hoped the boy wouldn’t remember him.

Alexander caught sight of Tom, and his face lit up. He gave Tom a long, firm handshake. “I’m so glad you could come. It’s been far too long.”

“Thanks for the invite,” Tom said. He hadn’t liked Alexander when he’d first met him, thought he was a superficial, spoiled, jet-setting brat, someone born with a silver spoon in his mouth, interested only in himself and having fun. But for once Tom was wrong, and Alexander proved to be much more than the handsome playboy everyone thought him. When Isobel went missing, it was Alexander who started the search for her. He paid for the entire rescue operation and even flew to Chad to take an active role in her rescue. Something, Tom was forced to admit, few civilian men could have done.

Alexander had demonstrated that he was more than capable, and had ultimately contributed to the success of Isobel’s rescue mission. Tom couldn’t feel anything but respect for a man willing to give everything he had for the person he loved.

Isobel shook Tom’s hand too. “Like Alex said, it’s great to see you. I really hope we can get together more often now.” Her voice was warm, but it wasn’t pushy. They didn’t really know one another, but the fact was he had saved her life, and that kind of thing bound people together. He himself was indebted to a number of people for similar reasons.

Isobel’s father had been in the military, he knew, just like her grandfather. And there was something genuine about her, something he respected. She was one of those people who made a difference in the world. Plus, she had a powerful handshake. And the reddest hair Tom had ever seen. He was pleased for her and Alexander—they seemed so happy.

“Congratulations on your marriage,” he said, meaning every word. The couple didn’t want gifts, and so he had donated a large sum to Isobel’s pediatric hospital and an equally large amount to Doctors Without Borders.

Tom looked down at the boy standing between them, with Alexander’s large, protective hand on one shoulder. Marius looked up at Tom with a curious expression on his face, and his eyes repeatedly darted to the package Tom was still holding under his arm. He held it out to the boy. Marius’s eyes widened.

“This is for you,” Tom said. It wasn’t much compensation for what he’d done to the boy back in Chad, but it was better than nothing. The parcel was so big that Marius teetered under its weight. Alexander hurried to help him.

“Thanks so much,” Marius said in perfect Swedish. The boy had been in Sweden for only six months, but he was eight, going to school, and was, according to a not entirely objective Alexander, a genius.

Tom patted Marius on the shoulder, nodded to Alexander and Isobel, and moved inside. The meeting had gone well after all.

He was handed a glass of champagne and glanced around for Ambra. They hadn’t seen one another since Sunday morning. It was now Friday evening, and he was longing for her. But Ambra had sent him a message to say she was running a little late, so he would have to wait. Just as long as she hadn’t changed her mind.

That second part was on repeat in his mind. As long as she hadn’t changed her mind.

Since it was only twenty seconds since he last glanced at his watch, he resisted the impulse to do it again.

He looked around the room, making judgments and running analyses in his mind, kept his back to the wall and tried to look normal. Then he spotted David Hammar. His friend was on the other side of the room, exuding his usual aura of power and arrogance. Tom knew plenty of financiers, respected very few of them and liked even fewer. But David Hammar was in a league of his own. A working-class kid who, through sheer hard work and a genius for business, had made it to the very top of the Swedish business world. Rude and ruthless according to some, one of the most moral and reliable men in the world according to Tom. David came over to him, and they looked at each other for a long moment without saying a word. Tom held out his hand, but David ignored it and pulled him into a firm bear hug instead. He thumped Tom on the back and held him even tighter.

“Finally,” was all David said.

Tom cleared his throat and pulled himself from the embrace. He wasn’t sure they had ever hugged before. “Lots of people,” he said.

“We missed you at the wedding. I hope you’re doing better now. You look good anyway.”

David was married to Alexander De la Grip’s older sister, Natalia, meaning that the two men were brothers-in-law. It was hard to imagine two more different people, however, at least on the surface: financial shark David and playboy jet-setter Alexander.

“Hey, Tom,” Natalia Hammar said. She came over and held out her hand, and Tom shook it. David gave his wife a warm glance. Natalia Hammar was slim, elegant, and incredibly competent within the world of finance herself; she and David were practically made for each other. She was carrying her daughter on one hip, and Tom looked down at the baby.

“How old is she now?” he asked politely. His sisters were always talking about children’s ages. And food, and sleep.

“Ten months.”

Tom studied the gurgling child. She was sweet in a chubby, toothless kind of way. It was hard to imagine a woman as sophisticated as Natalia Hammar giving birth to a baby that looked so completely ordinary, but both Natalia and David looked at Molly as though her happy gurgles were the height of intelligence, so who was he to judge. New parents were curious creatures. Natalia excused herself, and David watched the two women in his life leave with so much love in his eyes that Tom felt something approaching jealousy.

“Beautiful family you’ve got,” he said.

“Yeah,” was all David replied.

They stood like that, each holding a glass of champagne. Tom wasn’t overly fond of the drink, but he couldn’t see anywhere to put it down.

“How long will you be in town?” David asked.

“I’m not sure.”

There were other children running around, snatching candy and chips, chasing one another. Despite the exclusive guest list, the party was relaxed, not the least bit staid. There were a few camera flashes, but he noticed that they weren’t really affecting him. Neither did the buzz of the crowd or the heat. He felt relatively calm. He jumped at one loud noise, but then he began to relax again and his pulse was almost back to normal. Despite that, he could feel his mood worsening with every minute that passed. Would Ambra show up? He checked the time again.

“Ellinor’s coming, too, huh?” David asked.

“No.”

David seemed confused. “I thought . . .”

Tom interrupted him, didn’t want to go into the details. “No, I invited someone else. She should be here any minute.”

I hope.

She had sent him a message to say thanks for the deli basket and the flowers, but what if she thought he was too pushy, too demanding? He had no idea.

“Want me to take that?” David asked, nodding to the full champagne glass in Tom’s hand. He waved over a waitress, and soon enough they each had a bottle of beer in hand.

“Cheers.” They toasted.

“So, who is she?”

“Who?” Tom asked bluntly.

David gave him an amused look. “Your guest. Whoever you’re waiting for. She’s the reason you keep checking your watch every other second, no? I’m assuming it’s a she.”

Tom took a swig of his beer. “I don’t know if she’s coming,” he admitted.

“There are plenty of single girls here if she doesn’t,” David said with a shrug that irritated Tom enormously. As though Ambra was replaceable. Tom wasn’t interested in anyone else. If Ambra didn’t come, he would go home. His eyes followed a group of kids rushing forward.

And then, finally, he spotted her.

Though, at first, he wasn’t even sure it was really her.

The room was full, there were people everywhere, the volume was loud, and the many candles created shadows and dark corners, which made it difficult to see clearly. But he was good at identifying people, and the woman looked like Ambra, moved like her.

His heart started to beat a little quicker.

It was Ambra. But some new version of her. The same Ambra, but not. For one thing, he had never seen her in a dress before, was used to seeing her in baggy sweaters, hats, and coats. He knew she was a woman, of course. They’d slept together; he was well aware that she had both breasts and an ass. He had seen her naked, could probably remember every inch of her body, recount in detail how the various parts of her smelled, how smooth the inside of her thighs were, how soft her buttocks were.

But he had never seen her like this.

She was dressed in blue, in a shining sheath dress that hugged her waist and hips. She was talking to a tall man in a suit and hadn’t caught sight of Tom yet. She must have done something to her hair, because it was glossy and bouncy and shone every time she moved her head even slightly, as though she was covered in stardust. She seemed taller than normal, and when his eyes moved down her legs he saw her heels, which made her legs look incredibly sexy. This was a glamorous being, experienced and cool. And she was here for him.

The man she was talking with was standing close to her and had just placed a hand on her bare arm. Tom’s eyes didn’t leave them for a second.

“That her?” Tom had completely forgotten about David. His friend sounded like he was holding back a laugh.

Tom forced his shoulders to relax, tried to smooth out his facial features. He wasn’t used to feelings like these, barely had any right to be jealous. He wasn’t jealous. Not much anyway.

“Yeah,” he said, still staring. Ambra was laughing now. She looked like a princess tonight. Gone was the eager reporter, the vulnerable young woman. The person in front of him, wearing sky-high heels and a close-fitting dress, her hair glimmering and her back straight, was another creature entirely.

“She looks nice,” David said neutrally, too neutrally. Tom gave him a suspicious look. His friend still seemed to be struggling to hold back a laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked.

David thumped him on the back. “Nothing. I’m just happy to see you like this. Like a mere mortal.” He took a swig of his beer and seemed to be having fun. “You could go over and talk to her. Instead of standing here staring, I mean.”

Tom didn’t budge. Ambra moved her slender arm, and her wrist glittered. Everything about her glittered.

David patted him on the shoulder. “Go now, before you explode. But, hey?”

“Yeah?”

“Try a smile. And breathe.”

Tom shook off his hand. But he did take a deep breath.

And he smiled. It felt strange. But he did it for Ambra.