The word hung between us like smoke. Dense. Dangerous.
Katrina didn't flinch. Didn't gasp. Didn't do any of the things I'd seen other women do when I made an offer they should refuse.
Instead, she yanked her wrist from my grip and crossed her arms. "You want to buy me."
"I want to help you."
"Bullshit." She stepped to the side, forcing me to shift or let her pass. I didn't move. "You've been watching me for months like I'm something on a menu. Don't pretend this is charity."
Smart girl. Too smart.
"I'm not pretending anything." I leaned against the shelving, blocking the only exit. "You need money. Protection. I need…"
"What? A new toy?" Her laugh was sharp enough to draw blood. "I've dealt with men like you before, Mr. Sidorov. Menwho think money gives them the right to take whatever they want."
"Is that what he did? Your ex?"
Her expression went cold. "You don't know anything about him."
"Then tell me."
"Why? So you can add it to whatever file you probably already have on me?" She moved closer instead of away, getting in my space the way most people wouldn't dare. "Background checks. Security clearance. You probably know my shoe size and my mother's maiden name."
I did. Seven and a half. Morrison.
"If I wanted to hurt you," I said quietly, "I would have done it already."
"That's supposed to reassure me? Or scare me?" She challenged.
"It's supposed to be the truth."
We stood there, close enough that I could count her heartbeats in the pulse at her throat. She smelled like the lemon polish she used on the banisters and underneath that, something uniquely her—warm skin and that maddening vanilla.
"Here's what I know," Katrina said, her voice low and steady. "You run the Sidorov Bratva. You've killed people. You traffic in things I probably don't want to know about. And for six months, you've been undressing me with your eyes every time I walk past your office."
"Yes."
She blinked. "Yes?"
"Yes, to all of it." I straightened, giving her nowhere to look but at me. "I'm not going to lie to you, Katrina. I'm not a good man. I do bad things to worse people. I've wanted you since the moment you told me my coffee was wrong and made it better."
"That's ridiculous…"
"But I'm also the only person in this city who can give you what you need." I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened it to a banking app. "Fifteen thousand. Tonight. And new identities by the end of the week."
Her eyes flicked to the screen, then back to my face. "For what? Be specific."
Christ, she was magnificent.
"A contract." I pocketed the phone. "You. Me. Ninety days since that's apparently your timeline."
"A contract for what exactly?"
"Sex." The word came out rougher than I intended. "However, I want it. Whenever I want it. No restrictions."
"No."
"You haven't heard my terms."
