Page 3

Chapter 3

Kat

As I try to free myself from the gorgeous hunk of a man holding me, I struggle to contain a sigh. The universe sure has a twisted sense of humor. Why else would it drop this tall drink of water in my lap right now, of all times?

In different circumstances, running into a man this hot would’ve made my evening. Sadly, the museum’s gardens aren’t the right place for that, and tonight isn’t the right time. It's only a matter of time before someone notices a particular red diamond is missing. I have no intention of sticking around to see that play out.

Still gripping my shoulders, he stares into my eyes before allowing his gaze to trail down the rest of me. Even in my favorite four-inch high heels, he towers over me.

As discreetly as I can, I sneak a glance at the rest of him. I find no faults—from his glossy dark hair to his prohibitively expensive Italian leather shoes, he’s one fine man. His eyes are a brown as deep and dark as his hair, sparkling with undisguised intelligence and wit as he scans me from head to toe.

His lips, framed by his dark facial hair, twitch with barely contained amusement before he smiles at me. Sexy, sexy mouth. For some mysterious reason, he seems really pleased with himself, and I’ve got no problem admitting it’s a good look on him. The delicious friction of the roughened calluses on his hands against my shoulder sends a shiver down my spine.

“Forgive me,” he says. His deep voice makes me want to moan with pleasure. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No biggie. No harm, no foul. Thanks for catching me,” I say. The moment the words leave my mouth, an overwhelming urge to groan almost consumes me. No biggie ? That ’s my witty comeback?

But he smiles again, and as if on cue, heat pools low in my abdomen.

“Anytime,” he says, his panty-dropper smirk still in place. “I’m Nikolai, by the way.”

“Well, Nik—you don’t mind if I call you Nik, do you? It’s truly my pleasure to meet you. Trust me.”

My words seem to amuse him, if the way his smirk melts into a full-on grin is any indication. I can’t help but sigh—frankly, it’s some breathtaking stuff. I’m as good as doomed.

“Won’t you tell me your name?” he asks, completely ignoring my obvious attempts to break free from his hold.

Even as I struggle against him, I detect a slight accent. Slavic? Russian, maybe? Well, whatever it is, I can’t get enough of it. It’s as sweet as honey, and I’d listen to him talk about anything all night long. Of course, that’s exactly why I must leave—right now.

“Sorry, but no. I have to get going. Places to go, people to see, yada yada yada. You know how it is, right?”

He lets go of my shoulder to grab my hand, caressing my knuckles with his thumb.

“Why don’t you stay a little longer? I insist, actually. The night’s still young, after all, and I hear there’ll be fireworks later. You wouldn’t want to miss the show.”

Staring into my eyes, he lifts my hand to his lips. I have to remind myself to breathe as he, boldly holding my gaze, brushes his lips against my fingers for so long it makes me blush.

“I'd love to stay longer, but I happen to know my carriage will turn into a pumpkin at midnight.”

“A pumpkin coach, is it? I’m a little rusty on my fairytales, but I’m pretty sure Cinderella stuck around for a dance.”

“Oh!” I gasp theatrically, pressing my free hand to my chest. “Wait, are you trying to tell me you're my Prince Charming, and we're going to live happily ever after?” Maybe If I act really weird and overly excited, he'll go away and let me leave.

“Stay with me tonight, kiska , and I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

His intense tone catches me off guard, giving me pause. “You’re dangerous,” I say after a while. I don't even bother hiding how much he's affecting me.

Bizarrely, he seems to take my words seriously. “Not to you. Not tonight,” he says a few heartbeats later. His tone is surprisingly sincere.

I take a second to really look at him. The guy’s obviously devastatingly handsome. He’s also too charming for his own good—or mine, I guess. Clearly, he’s well aware of his talents and won’t hesitate to use them against me. And on top of that, his refusal to let me go can only mean one thing—he’s into me. He stares at me like he can't get enough, his gaze scorchingly caressing my lips, neck, and body as he looks his fill.

Once again, I resist the urge to sigh. The only thing more irresistible than a distractingly attractive man is a distractingly attractive man who wants me bad.

But something beyond his compelling magnetic field makes me uneasy. My heart pounds with desperation as I notice a few people nearby peeking and gossiping, their whispers echoing in my ears, intensifying my sense of urgency. The last thing I want or need is to attract undue attention.

Nikolai must be someone important or famous to score an invite to this gala. His bespoke tuxedo alone must’ve cost him a small fortune. He totally fits in at this start-studded party, surrounded by people I often spot on magazines or TV. He must be a big deal—why else would people keep staring and whispering?

The way our banter catches the attention of the guests, making me feel increasingly uneasy, doesn’t go unnoticed by him. After raising an eyebrow, he locks eyes with a couple of them. To my immense amusement and surprise, they quickly glance away.

Fascinating .

I study him with renewed interest—and maybe a bit of curiosity. He squeezes my hand tighter, making it clear he's not going to let me go, and an extraordinary amount of excitement bubbles up inside me.

“Fine. You win,” I sigh. “One dance, Charming. No more.”Or so I fervently hope for my sake.

He pulls me closer, a triumphant look on his face, and my legs threaten to turn into jelly. No man should be this hot. It simply isn’t fair to womenfolk everywhere.

Without a word, he wraps his arm around my waist and leads me to the dance floor as the orchestra finishes a lively song I don't know.

I take a deep breath and brace myself. If the mere weight of his arm on my back is this intoxicating, then I dread to imagine what I’ll feel when he holds me closer to his body during our dance—or underneath it, in a different type of dance altogether.

As he guides me to a darkened corner of the dance floor, he steals a quick glance at me, making my heart race with anticipation.

The first notes of a slow melody fill the air as the band shifts gears, and he leans in and whispers in my ear. “What will it take to get you to tell me your name?”

His warm breath tickles my ear as I inhale his addictive scent, sending me straight to heaven—or, in this case, hell. He smells of man, whiskey, and sin. My mouth waters and I rise on my toes, unable to resist the urge to let my lips flutter against his ear as I whisper, “Nothing you have.”

Appreciatively, he casts a glance in my direction. Too late, it dawns on me he’s not the type of guy to shy away from a challenge like the one I just gave him. He pulls me closer as we sway to the tune played by the orchestra. “I don’t know about that, kiska . I’m a pretty resourceful guy.”

“What does that word mean? Kiska ?”

He leads me through a languid dance, and I relish the feel of his right hand enveloping mine while his left one rests dangerously low on my bare back. I touch the hair on the back of his neck, unable to stop myself. It’s unexpectedly soft. His eyes grow heavy-lidded. “Give me your name, and I’ll tell you.”

“My name doesn't matter. Who cares about names? You know what they say—a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

“Cute, but I bet even Shakespeare's Juliet didn't smell as sweet as you.”

“Sweet talker. Flattery will get you nowhere with me.”

“Funny you should say that, because I happen to know exactly where I want to go.”Smoothly, he brings my body flush against his. I can feel almost every inch of his deliciously masculine frame—including the distractingly large bulge pressing against my stomach.

I try to play it cool. With my best smile in place, I smooth my hand down his muscular chest. “Really? Well, don’t leave me hanging. The suspense’s killing me.”

Not even for a single second does he avert his eyes from mine. “I’d rather just show you. You see, if all I get is one dance, then I have to insist we move it somewhere private.”

His hand moves confidently to my hip, filling me with an exhilarating rush. It comes as no shock. I’ve always appreciated the finer things in life. Well, few things are as fine as a gorgeous man who’d like nothing better than to show me a good time.

Dealing with the stronzo ’s requests has been taking up all my time. My libido has taken a backseat with A.J.'s life in danger. So, when Nik’s firm body brushes against mine, my misgivings and concerns start to sound terribly inconsequential. I have the Flame of Mir, so A.J. will soon catch a break. I deserve some time off, just like everyone else.

His suggestion to go somewhere private fits my plan to leave the party perfectly. Big picture, does it really matter if I leave alone or with the guy who won’t stop undressing me with his eyes? Wouldn't it be smart to have someone to vouch for me if a guard notices the diamond is gone? What an alibi. Suddenly, meeting him tonight feels very serendipitous, and I’m never one to go against fate.

“Let’s say I let you whisk me away. Once you have me all to yourself, what’s the plan?”

“A couple of things come to mind. Come with me and find out for yourself.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that. Can’t deny I'm tempted. But I'm not convinced just yet. You’re going to have to sweeten the deal.”

“All you have to do is tell me what you desire, kiska , and I’ll happily give it to you.”

“Anything I want?”

“Anything,” he says without hesitation.

His unwavering belief in his ability to fulfill my every wish is such a turn-on. Of course, he has no idea how demanding and imaginative I can be, but it doesn’t matter. Ultimately, nothing else matters beyond this overwhelming, irresistible craving that won’t be resisted or ignored.

Unwilling to deny myself for a second longer, I brush his lips with mine before whispering, “Kiss me, Nik. Kiss me, and I’m yours.”