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you think I’m Russian?”
    “You’re not?”
    “No. I’m Norsk. But I traveled with the Roma all across Russia from the time I was an infant.”
    “Roma?”
    “Most Americans call them gypsy. My parents were said to be Norwegian. I don’t remember them, since I was so young. They joined the caravans from Bergen. I was born in Petrozavodsk. During our journey I became an orphan. Then a year later, I met your uncle. I was running away from the Roma.”
    “Why?”
    “I think because I stole food or something. Or maybe the beatings. I was the only one who had light skin, and all the kids bullied me. Anyway, your uncle found me just when I was about to freeze to death. He saved me. Gave me food and shelter. Taught me and sent me to school. I owed him my life. Owed him where I am now.”
    “I had no idea you had such a tough childhood. And here I thought I had a difficult life. And your name— SvæiningR, what does it mean?”
    “It’s Old Norse of Sven, which means young lad.”
    “Young lad? Interesting.” Annalise grinned.
    Sven joined the grin. It was infectious. “But your uncle nicknamed me Skogkatt.”
    “ Skogkatt?”
    “That means forest cat. I was a wild boy. I couldn’t sit still for long periods, and I was always into mischief.”
    “Really?”
    He nodded.
    “How about Torviksøn? What does it mean?”
    “My father’s name is Torvik, and I’m the son of Torvik, so I was named Torviksøn. It’s an old Norsk patronymic naming tradition. When I became an American citizen, I updated the spelling and shortened my name to Sven Torvik. It’s easier to pronounce and write in legal documents. I should have changed it into Steve to sound more mainstream.”
    “Nah, Sven is way cooler. I wish I had an exotic-sounding name too. Annalise is so boring.”
    “I must disagree with you. Annalise is a very pretty name. It’s Latin.”
    “Seriously?”
    “It means Graced with God’s Bounty .”
    Annalise snorted. “The only thing I was graced with is my girth. I wish I was slimmer. They stop making cool looking clothes at size fourteen.”
    “There’s nothing wrong with you. You are perfect the way you are.”
    “So you like fat chicks?”
    Let’s see. I like my woman healthy, low maintenance, adventurous eaters and festively curvy with a natural E-cup chest...” He raked his gaze on her. Yes, that’s about right.
    “Don’t tell me you’ve been snooping at my lingerie drawers.”
    “It is perfectly normal for a husband to know his wife’s measurements.”
    “ Pervy.”
    He smiled.
    “Anyway, I’ve always wondered if Uncle Seymour ever adopted you. You said you were his protégé. It makes more sense that he’d chose you as his successor.”
    “It was his plan at the beginning, until we had a dispute.”
    “Dispute? Why?”
    “Let’s just say we had ideological differences, which lead me into resigning from my position in Dune Industry and starting my own company.”
    “Were you on speaking term with Uncle Seymour?”
    “Yes, of course. This dispute didn’t affect our personal relationship. Though I’ve always thought this arranged marriage was one of his tactics to pull me back into Dune Industry. He always wanted me to pick up where he had left.”
    Annalise went silent for a moment. “I’m sorry.”
    “What are you apologizing for? If it wasn’t because of your uncle, I wouldn’t have met you.”
    “So, you like this marriage?”
    “I do. I enjoy myself as a married man.” Sven relaxed in his chair. “You said your uncle wasn’t on speaking term with your mother?”
    “Nope. My parents always thought Uncle Seymour was odd.”
    “Odd? How?”
    “Well, my mom said Uncle Seymour hadn’t been fair with the cut from Grandma Mazur’s inheritance. He took a big chunk and spent it traveling around the world. But my dad said that Uncle Seymour was off after he returned from Russia. He came back with a pretty blond boy, and their relationship was unnatural. Other aunts and