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“But you need lessons in how to treat people. And considering what Zach just said, that I am your best hope, I’ve decided to be the man who gives you those lessons.”
She was breathing hard, damn near panting. There was fire in her eyes, crimson in her cheeks. She was impossibly beautiful, more than when she’d first stepped through the door, and even as Kaz spoke those words, a tiny, rational part of him was saying, Dude, what in hell do you think you’re doing? He frowned. Listened to that tiny voice. Started to say Wait a minute, I take that back…
“There isn’t a way in the world I would ever permit you to—to so much as breathe the same air I breathe,” Ekaterina Rostov said.
Kaz swung toward Zach. “Seven hundred bucks an hour.”
Zach grinned. “I was prepared to offer eight.”
“A thousand,” Kaz said. “Paid to a charity of my choosing.”
“Mr. Castelianos! Do you hear me? You cannot do this! I will call my father and—”
Zach stuck out his hand.
“Deal.”
Kaz nodded. “Deal.”
Katie Rostov stared at the two men as they men shook hands. No, she thought, no, this could not be happening…
And then Zacharias Castelianos strode toward her, paused just long enough to give her a little pat on the shoulder as if she were—as if she were a pet, goddammit…
The door opened. Swung shut.
She was alone with Kazimir Savitch.
CHAPTER THREE
Kazimir Savitch turned his back to her, walked to his desk and began taking papers from a black leather briefcase.
He pulled out his chair, sat down, picked up a pen and started reading.
He might as well have been alone in the enormous glass-walled room.
Ekaterina Rostov, known as Katie to her handful of American friends, stood rigid beside the closed door, watching him.
There were a dozen different ways he could have indicated his power over her, but this—ignoring her as completely as if she weren’t there—was probably the most effective.
It said that she was nobody, that she was insignificant, that he had now assumed control of her life.
He was right.
He was big. Broad shouldered. Except for the fact that he was despicable, he was an excellent example of male virility.
She was physically powerless against him.
And even if she got to the door before he did, where would she go? There was no way out for her.
She was trapped.
They all knew it. She. Kazimir Savitch. And Zacharias Castelianos.
But she was the only one of them who knew the reason.
Last night, she’d paced the bedroom in her suite, hating her father, hating the man she was doomed to marry, hating Castelianos.
Her captor, outside her door in the sitting room.
