The next time I have her naked, I’m kissing every single one of those scars. I know I won’t make them go away, but they should be worshipped, just like the rest of her.
She’s strength and delicate beauty combined, and I’ve never been more entranced.
The phone stops again, even as my feet hit the floor and I sit on the edge of the bed.
What’s she doing in the bathroom? Would she care if I followed? I want to watch her all the time, no matter how mundane the task.
That’s when the phone begins again.
I pick it up, hitting the button and bark into the phone. “What?”
“Your Grace,” Ken replies, sounding affronted. “Am I interrupting?”
“Yes,” I fire back, hanging up the phone. I don’t want to talk to anyone, but if I’d looked and realized it was him…
One, he’s been allowed his one overstep, and he’s no longer in my employ. He doesn’t get my time.
But two, I have no interest in choosing a bride. I could never court another woman while sharing a bed with Katarina. I’m many things, but a letch isn’t one of them. I know what the doctor said, understand that I’m taking a risk in delaying my search. I don’t care. One of my brothers can produce the next duke after all. I choose Katarina.
But that’s when the phone rings, Ken once again.
If that fucker thinks he’s strong-arming me… I pick up the phone, but I don’t speak.
“Your Grace?”
I don’t answer.
“Don’t hang up. This is about Ivan.”
For one second my eyes widen as I realize that my marriage consultant either was or has become an inside man. Fuck.
How did I not see that? No regular consultant would be that impertinent. Ken didn’t pick me up at the airport because he had two mediocre candidates. He was gathering intel for Ivan.
“Is he already in England?”
“Oh, yes.”
Double fuck.
“And he’s aware you’ve got his daughter.”
I made sure of that. “Both of them, really.”
“Yes,” Ken replies. “And most of the casinos.”
“What is it you’re calling about?” I ask, wanting this call to be done.
“Ivan would like to meet. He’s got a proposal.”
“I don’t want anything he has to offer.” I pull the phone away from my ear, about to hang up. If I just sit tight, Ivan will come to me, and then I will put the final nail in his coffin.
“You’ll want this,” Ken’s voice drops low and dangerous. Is that little shit threatening me?
“I think you forget who I am and what I’m already going to do to you.”
“I’m just the messenger, Your Grace.”
“So what’s the fucking message?”
