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She sighed and strutted back toward the changing room.“Maybe that’s a good thing? I have to secure my next place to stay after you and I part ways. It pays to plan ahead.”
I’d sent the assistants away. I couldn’t stand their lingering presence. Kat’s words sent a white-hot bolt of anger through me. I found myself on my feet and stalking toward the dressing room before I could think better of it. I drew the curtain back.
She had been looking in the mirror, and she spun, her hands on her hips.“What a fright—”
I cut her off by stepping into the changing room and pulling the curtain closed behind me.“Are you already thinking about leaving me, Kat? My mother will be devastated.”
She backed against the mirror as I advanced, frowning as if trying to work out what I’d said. Her mouth dropped open in mock horror. “Did you make a joke? Is that what just happened?” she teased dramatically.
I smiled. Damn, I’d smiled more around this woman than I had in years. My face ached.“Just following your cue. And the reason that this dress is too short is because of how you look in it. When you draw every man’s eye, which you will, it would be too tempting not to slip their hand around your hip and down to the hem.”
I bracketed an arm over her, leaning on the mirror. I let my hand fall to her hip and lower. Kat’s eyes darkened and filled with excitement. I felt the same. Touching her was electric. She leaned back against the mirror and shivered as my fingers reached the hem of the dress. I inched my hand under it, caressing the skin in circles.
“And then?” Kat asked. Her eyes closed, and she leaned her head against the mirror as I worked my way inch by inch up her short skirt.
“And then, I’d have to kill them.” My words sent her eyes flying open as one of my fingers brushed the fabric of her underwear. It felt odd. “What are you wearing?”
She burst into a wide grin.“It’s yours. They don’t sell lingerie here.”
I couldn’t help it. I leaned my forehead against hers and laughed—a hearty, booming sound. I was glad my men couldn’t see me, or they might think I’d been replaced by a secret twin. Kat grinned, and I thought it would be nice to see that smile every day for the rest of my life.
“I guess I know where we’re going next. A woman like you deserves lace.”
“Jae—” she breathed, and as I turned, her hand touched my face.
I could count on one hand the number of times someone had touched my face in the last few years. When I brought home some faceless, meaningless one-night encounter, I fucked exclusively from behind. I didn’t do kissing, facing each other, or a second meeting. Ever.
Kat wiped her finger under my eye, and my skin burned in the wake of her gentle touch.“Eyelash,” she explained as she held it up to me. “Make a wish.”
I blew softly on the eyelash, a childhood superstition I hadn’t thought of in years. My body was hard as hell, aching to touch her, and my hands could barely stay by my side as I left the changing room.The want inside me roared.
I sat down and went back to my phone, staring at it unseeing. This was dangerous. I didn’t know Kat, and I had no idea where she’d come from or who she was fleeing. She could be an assassin. She could be the daughter of a competitor, come to fuck my life up. She could be an undercover cop. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling scattered and horny as hell.
It didn’t matter, I realized as I watched her step out the curtain in another dress.
I already knew I wasn’t letting her go.
I’d found her, and I was keeping her.
CHAPTER7
Kat
Jae kept late hours. I knew that as I liked to wait up for the sound of him returning to the apartment at night. I felt safer when he was home.
Home?Fuck, get a grip, Kat.He needs you to do a little job for him, and then you’re out of here on your ass. Don’t get comfortable.
The voice whispering terrible things in my head was so familiar it was hard to block out. It was my brother's voice, and I’d heard his reprimands and putdowns for as long as I could remember. It was easy to imagine what Konstantin would say. He lived inside my head.
I heard a door shutting down the hall. My eyes flew to the clock. It was midnight. I was lying in bed reading after about three hours of admiring my rapidly filling dressing room. Okay, I’ll admit it. I did it every evening. I felt like a spoiled, pampered princess, and it felt good. It would no doubt be the first and only time in my life once the things I was hiding from Jae came to light, so I intended to enjoy it.
Jae had a routine when he came home from work. He went to the kitchen, then showered for a long time. Then he sat in the living room for a while and went to bed. The man only slept about five hours a night, which couldn’t be healthy.
Tonight, I heard the soft sound of a door closing out of its usual order. The bathroom? Was he hurt? I found myself slipping through my bedroom room and peering down the hall before I could stop myself. Ok, well, I didn’t try very hard to stop myself, to be honest. I wanted to see him. He’d been out all day, and I missed his dashing face and mercurial moods.
I wandered down the hall, reaching the bathroom door. It was ajar, and light spilled down the dark hallway. The sound of water rushing drifted around the edge of the door. So, he was showering. I turned away, not wanting to be caught snooping, and my eyes came to rest on his clothes.
He had discarded his white shirt on the floor near the entrance. The red splotches against it stood out against the pale background—a spray of blood arching over the sleeve and up the collar. I gasped, instant worry forming in my gut. Was Jae hurt?
