Nordic Heroes: In the Market and a Wholesale Arrangement by Day Leclaire Page A

Cornucopia. We’ll fight you up and down, inside and out, and back and forth, if necessary. The whole community will fight you!”
    “Good.” He grinned. “There’s only one thing a Thorsen does better than fighting.”
    She knew she’d regret asking, but couldn’t resist. “What’s that?”
    “Winning.” He stood. “I believe my business here is completed. For today.” He held out his hand to Uncle Cletus, a hand the older man pointedly ignored. Rainer dropped his arm to his side and glanced at Jordan. “See me out?”
    “Afraid you’ll get lost?” she taunted, then released a pent-up sigh. “All right, come on.”
    At the front door Rainer turned, catching her arm in a light grip. “I know this is difficult for you, but you need to be realistic. You can’t win this fight.”
    Jordan pulled free of his touch. She couldn’t afford to have him affect her in that way. Not now. Not with so much at stake. “We’ll see,” she said.
    He took a final look around. “You own the building, as well as the business, don’t you?”
    He had to know that already, otherwise he wouldn’t have made such a generous offer. Perplexed, she nodded. “Why?”
    “Would you believe idle curiosity?”
    “No.”
    He chuckled. “Smart lady. It’s a fine building you have here. Almost as fine as the one they’re constructing across the street.”
    She froze, sensing danger. “You’re familiar with that project?”
    “I better be. It’s my building they’re raising. Looks like we’re going to be neighbors after all.” And with that he left.
    Jordan tried to convince herself things weren’t as disastrous as they seemed. It took a lot of convincing and the entire rest of the day.

    A week and a half later, Jordan stood by her truck outside Constantine’s Wholesale Market, her frustration reaching unbearable levels. Ten days had passed since Rainer’s appearance in her life. Ten days since he’d issued his ominous threats and warnings. Ten days of silence.
    During that time she’d gone through the full emotional spectrum—anger, annoyance, concern, and finally fear. Didn’t he realize how worried she’d be? Or was that the whole idea? She wished he’d just do something and end their stalemate.
    Determined to take action, she entered the warehouse and gazed toward the back at the offices on the second story. Large windows, some ajar, others tightly closed, overlooked the cavernous main floor where she stood. Andrea’s, she noted, were open. Good.
    She’d told her friend about the Thorsens’ interest in Cornucopia. Perhaps there would be some much-needed information by now. Anything was better than living in a vacuum. If nothing else, she could count on receiving one of Andrea’s special pep talks, each guaranteed to find the bright side to even the worst disaster.
    Andrea’s door opened before Jordan had a chance to knock. “Oh, you’re here,” the tall blonde said with a rather weary smile. “I was about to come and get you. We need to talk.”
    Jordan grinned. “I’d hoped you’d say that.”
    She entered the room, shoved a stack of receipts off the chair and took a seat across from her friend’s desk. It always amused her to come here. A very clever businesswoman, Andrea seemed to thrive on chaos. Papers, invoices, and produce manuals littered every inch of her office. Yet she could always find anything she needed at a moment’s notice. Today, though, she seemed distracted and tense.
    Jordan frowned. Now that she really looked, she realized Andrea had lost weight. A new vulnerability burned in her friend’s expressive dark eyes, the sparkling liveliness dimmed. Nor could she detect any sign of the cheerful optimism that made her friend so special. “Is something wrong?” she asked, quick to put her own worries aside.
    Andrea shrugged. “You know how this place gets sometimes. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” She fumbled for some papers, her tone deliberately businesslike, almost