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David watching her. She wondered what he was thinking as those blue-gray eyes took her in. He hadn’t meant for her to notice him checking her out, of course, but she was good at reading people and could tell he was trying to size her up. He was very smooth. When they spoke he gave her his full attention in a way that was completely unsettling. He looked good, attractive in a grown-up, manly way. There was nothing boyish here, just broad-shouldered, full-grown masculinity. Dark, well-cut hair, eyes that were somewhere between blue and gray, chiseled features. Handsome as the devil. He was also charming, polite, and sometimes funny, basically your perfect lunch date.
    And yet . . .
    Every now and then she caught a glimmer of something in his eyes, something she wasn’t meant to see, something hard and cold, which put her on her guard and made her hesitant. David Hammar was a person known for crushing companies and people, a ruthless businessman. Under one picture of him in a business paper the caption had described him as “an ice-cold businessman devoid of pretension.” Something warned her not to be seduced by his easygoing charm and intelligent eyes. He was playing some kind of game, she was sure of that. But what?
    Secrets, so many secrets.
    â€œWhat?” he asked with a half laugh, and now there was no frostiness at all. No hardness, no ruthlessness, just attentiveness. As if she were the most interesting person in the world. This must be how he had achieved his almost implausible success. David Hammar saw people. He made them feel special, won their trust. And then he devoured them, flesh, bone, and everything in between.
    â€œAre you planning to take over any unsuspecting companies in the near future?” she asked.
    â€œOf course I am,” he replied. “That’s what I do. A venture capitalist never sleeps.” His eyes twinkled, and Natalia lost her train of thought. Oh my, that laugh.
    Most of the men Natalia worked with, including her father, older brother, and boss, followed the unspoken rules and invisible guidelines that applied to the elite financial world. They were all cast from the same mold. Conforming and often completely devoid of humor, they were all too preoccupied with trying to outdo one another to socialize comfortably, especially with women. But David was completely different, a trailblazing visionary if you could believe his admirers, an unrelenting looter if you listened to his critics. Either way, he was terribly successful, a modern pirate in a custom suit.
    And yet . . .
    David Hammar hadn’t tried to impress her even once. He hadn’t bragged or dominated. When they shook hands, his grasp was firm but not unnecessarily hard, as if he was confident of his strength and didn’t need to show it off. Talking to him, she realized he made most of the men she met seem hesitant, maniacally domineering, impatient to demonstrate their strength, and not always respectful toward women, to put it diplomatically.
    â€œHow did you end up getting into this line of work?” she asked curiously. He seemed like a man who could have been successful at just about anything.
    â€œIf you want to become very rich very fast, this is the way. As I’m sure you know.”
    Natalia nodded. No one could become as rich as a skilled venture capitalist. “And that’s what you wanted? To be rich?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œHas it gone well?” She knew the answer, of course, but she wanted to hear what he would say when given the opportunity to brag.
    He studied her for a moment. “Satisfaction is elusive,” he said slowly, as if they were discussing something important, not just shooting the breeze. “Strange, isn’t it?”
    She shook her head. “No, it’s the most basic human motivator. For good or ill.”
    â€œIs that how you feel too?”
    â€œI guess,” she replied, because she recognized the desire in herself,