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“At least he knows his limitations.”
Kaz took a couple of steps out from behind his desk.
“I am standing right here,” he said in a carefully controlled voice. “There’s no need to talk as if I’m not.”
She turned to him, her expression one of boredom.
“Are you speaking to me?”
“I am, indeed.” His lips curved in a thin smile that never reached his eyes. “What’s the problem, Ms. Rostov? Don’t the servants generally speak directly to you?”
“I don’t like your tone.”
“Good.” He folded his arms. “Because I sure as hell don’t like yours.”
She stared at him for a long minute. Then she looked at Zach.
“You told me that this man was Sardovian.”
Zach shrugged. “I told you that he held Sardovian citizenship.”
“He has no manners. A Sardovian gentleman would not speak to me this way.”
“And you would know all about manners,” Kaz said.
The woman ignored him.
“And you said he would be able t
o do double duty as a bodyguard, should I need one.” Her chin rose; the simple motion conveyed endless disdain. “He looks more like a pampered poodle to me.”
“A what?” Kaz said, silencing Zach with a slash of his hand.
The blonde’s gaze swept past him.
“Let us leave here, Mr. Castelianos. I am not interested in wasting any more time.”
Kaz moved fast, stopped not more than six inches from her.
“You,” he said coldly, “are an impolite, arrogant, spoiled brat.”
Her mouth dropped open. It was wonderful to see.
“What did you call me?”
“Impolite,” he said. “And arrogant. And spoiled. But I take all that back.” He took another step toward her. This time, to his great satisfaction, she stumbled back until she was almost pinned to the wall. Even better, despite those spike heels, she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. For some reason, that pleased him, too. “What you really are,” he said with precision, “is a nasty, vile, mean-tempered witch.”
“How dare you? Mr. Castelianos! Are you going to permit this—this person to speak this way to me?”
Zach looked up from examining his neatly clipped fingernails. “Don’t speak to her that way,” he said mildly, and went back to studying his nails again.
“I can see why you need a bodyguard,” Kaz said. “There’s probably a line of people a mile long just waiting for the chance to slug you.”
Her face flamed. “You—you—you—”
“Just make sure you get this straight, your ladyship. I’d sooner spend a long summer in hell than spend a single day with you.”
“That’s fine, Mr. Savitch, because I would never—”
