Hunting Game by Helene Tursten

Author:Helene Tursten [Tursten, Helene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Contemporary, Crime Fiction
ISBN: 9781616956509
Google: gYyFDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07BCYVVRC
Barnesnoble: B07BCYVVRC
Goodreads: 39196365
Publisher: Soho Press
Published: 2014-08-01T05:00:00+00:00

Embla parked her old car in front of Hansgården. The entire farmyard was bathed in light. The thought popped up again: Who is he afraid of? But maybe it was like he said and the material he worked with would be very attractive to competing companies and criminals who dealt in industrial espionage. It was strange though. Didn’t the thefts of IT secrets usually happen, for obvious reasons, on the Internet?

She firmly dismissed all thoughts of crime in cyberspace and decided to try to relax and have a pleasant evening. Now that she knew more about Peter’s background she could better understand why he was guarded with other people. Hopefully he would change his attitude when they got to know each other a little better.

As she ran her hand over her newly washed hair, she felt it was still damp. She wore it loose, so it would soon be dry. Once again she had put on her good sweater, leaving her left shoulder bare. With the sweater, she wore a pair of tight jeans. She had done laundry the day before and with a few sprays of perfume in strategic places she smelled good. Most of all it was nice to exchange the rubber hunting boots for a pair of light ankle boots.

The front door opened before she could knock. Peter welcomed her with a radiant smile and a warm hug. He took the opportunity to give her a light kiss on the cheek, close to the corner of her mouth. It didn’t feel overly intimate, but a thrill passed through her body. She wanted more of that. He courteously took her jacket and hung it up in the closet. Then he put his arm around her waist and guided her into the living room, where the lighting was subdued. There were candles all over in low glass holders. The candles in the chandelier over the coffee table were also lit, and the glow from the flames reflected off the shiny marble surface. A silver wine cooler and two tall glasses glistened on the little table between the chairs in front of the wood stove. Behind the glass doors of the stove the flames crackled.

She gasped for breath. “You’ve really gone all out!” she said as she exhaled.

A smile gleamed in his eyes. “You have to if you’re trying to repair a bad impression.”

He invited her to sit down and took the bottle out of the cooler, wrapped a cloth napkin around it, and opened the cork with a pop. A glance at the label showed that it was genuine champagne.

“Fair warning: I’m going to pass out after one glass,” she said.

That was no exaggeration, she felt drained in both body and soul after two long days of fruitless searching. There had also been the lack of sleep.

“The same goes for me, so since I think it’s safe to assume this bottle will be enough, I’ve gone for a better brand,” he said with a wink. He filled the glasses and handed her one.

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