“I’m already there, sweetheart,” I muse. “You might as well get comfortable. I’m not going anywhere.”
Kat grits her teeth and forces the words out. “I don’t know what kind of women you’re used to dealing with, or which type you think I am, but you don’t get to smirk and charm your way into my good graces.”
“That’s assuming I want in your good graces.”
“Right,” she utters, giving a humorless laugh. “You just want to use me to get to my brother. Congrats, Sergey.”
Do I want to be in her good graces?
Something about her assumption, while it isn’t unfounded, irks me.
Even if it’s satisfying knowing she has no choice but to do as I say, that doesn’t mean I want to completely extinguish her fire. Her hardened nature is something that pulled me in, but I don’t necessarily want to break her, regardless of how tempting that sounds.
A little fear is fine, but I don’t want her to hate me entirely.
At this point, I don’t know whether it was the assignment or the growing need for her clawing at my chest that drove me to marry her, and I don’t know which of those options is worse.
I shouldn’t care about what she thinks of me, but at least part of me does.
Something shifts in my attitude, and I murmur with a slight bristle, “I’m protecting you.”
“From what, my own life?” Kat demands of me with utter disbelief. “You don’t get to play these games, hold me hostage, and claim to be some kind of savior. I didn’t need saving, and you’re nothing but some thug in a suit. You and your family are just going to get everyone killed.”
Her words hit me harder than I’d like to admit.
She doesn’t know me, and she doesn’t know what I’ve sacrificed, or that of my family. She doesn’t know that I’d bleed for them in a heartbeat, even if they piss me off some days.
But the pure conviction in her words kickstarts that attraction in me all over again.
I know she’s tough, which is both maddening and so appealing that it makes me feel like I’m going crazy, and something about that puts me off kilter.
Kat is unlike anyone I’ve dealt with before, and I find myself walking a thin line of rage and respect.
I pull in a breath to try and wrangle my confused thoughts, leaning forward. “You should watch that mouth, Kat…you’re in my world now, and that attitude won’t do you any favors.”
“I don’t care,” she utters, giving me a look that says it all. She hates me, and this is the last thing she wants to deal with. “You dragged me into this, and you don’t get to tell me how to behave.”
My eyes lock with hers, allowing the warning to enter my tone. “You should.”
She doesn’t even flinch.
I certainly have done exactly that, and while I can be one to entertain resistance and the amusing parts of getting her to do as I say, I’m not a complete pushover.
The infuriating yet intoxicating edge remains in her eyes, and I can’t tell if I want to shake her or shut her up with my mouth.
Both, apparently.
But I keep my hands and lips to myself while I sit back in my seat, running a hand over my mouth.
Eventually, the wheels hit the tarmac as we land in Vegas, and we get off the jet. Phone in hand, I watch as it reconnects while two guards haul Kat to the waiting vehicle.
Two missed calls from Roman. Not out of the ordinary, but certainly not a good thing.
Sighing, I click the notification and initiate the call, bracing myself for whatever might be ahead of me.
It rings once before his voice cuts through, drippy with fury.
“What the fuck did you do?”
