Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Katarina
I look into the mirror as the evening sun sets, and I have to give Ken some props on one account. He’s a total tool, but this dress fits like a glove.
Red. Mermaid. Off the shoulder. Just as Win ordered.
It’s the perfect dress for me, the color accenting my skin and hair.
The party begins in fifteen minutes but I’ve no intention of going downstairs until the event is in full swing.
My plan is to blend into the crowd. Watch, listen, and learn.
I pull on the three-inch stilettos, dyed red to match the dress, and draw in a deep breath.
Russian. English. It doesn’t matter. I’m the outsider in most crowds and I’ll be one tonight. I’ll hold my chin high and do my best to look relaxed and bored so that people don’t realize I’m listening.
A black dress would have suited my purpose better, but I’d had no choice. Was that intentional on Win’s part?
Crossing to the window of my room, which looks out over the drive, I watch as the first guests arrive. Men in black tuxes step out of the cars before they help the ladies out.
Some of the women are in dresses of every color, but many of them are in white. The candidates….
I smooth my hand down my red dress, I am purposefully dressed to not resemble them, which suits me just fine.
It doesn’t matter that Win might be the most handsome man in existence. He’s also a cold-hearted ogre.
And my plan does not account for romantic feelings of any kind.
But as I finally make my way out of my room and onto the second-floor landing, the noise from the crowd filters up to me.
I pause at the top of the stairs, looking down as Win greets his guests.
He holds the hand of some debutante, bringing the back of her fingers to his lips.
My breath catches as I watch, the tiniest trickle of jealousy moving down my spine.
I notch my chin, the ridiculousness of the emotion irritating me. Win is my jailer. If I’m honest, he’s almost as much of an enemy as my father. The man trying to stop me from doing what I came here to do. Use me for his own purposes.
I start down the stairs, taking my time as I survey the scene. It’s like every ball I’ve ever attended.
Full of people who think they are the very best, but they all look shallow and vapid to me. They don’t know pain. Strength.
The debutante Win had been greeting moves on, and he looks up at me. Our eyes lock and I feel the energy shift as his gaze travels down my body. He draws up, growing taller as I continue my slow glide down the stairs.
Every eye has settled on us and I realize, I’ve already ruined my plan of remaining behind the scenes. Every person in this foyer sees me and my connection to our host. I blame the dress.
But as I reach the marble floor of the entry, I dip into a curtsy fit for the queen.
Win reaches for my hand, pulling me up and bringing the back of my fingers to his lips.
Yesterday when he touched me, I felt the energy, but today, his lips against my skin are like lightning, the jolt moving through me with such force, I’m surprised my hair isn’t standing on end.
“Where did you learn to curtsy like that?”
A smile plays at my lips. “Oh, I’ve been taught all the pretty things.” And then I slowly remove my fingers from his grasp. “But don’t let me keep you from your guests.”
Pivoting, I find another man staring. Ken.
His frown deepens as he approaches. Ken is average height for a man, which means, in my heels, I’m a touch taller than he is.
He’s wearing a tux, his medium brown hair combed back. One might mistake Ken for a male wallflower. But I feel his edge as he approaches.
If he was unsure of me yesterday, today he has decided. I’m his enemy. “Family friend?” he hisses as his hand locks on my upper arm.
“What’s your problem?” I snap back, smiling at a woman as I pass.
“I only get paid a nominal fee unless the duke actually chooses a bride.” His fingers tighten. “Don’t think I don’t see. You’re getting in the way.”
“I am not,” I answer with a cluck of my tongue. “Trust me when I say, the duke’s interest in me is only…” I search for the word that describes our relationship. I can’t find one.
“Bullshit,” Ken tugs me toward the ballroom. “His eyes were all over you.” Ken’s lip curls. “Don’t get in my way, Kat.”
My brows lift. I knew Ken had to have some grit to have shown up at the airport uninvited. But it turns out, he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “I’m not in your way. Furthest thing from it.” I shrug my arm out of his grasp. I don’t add that he ought not get in mine.
Ken scowls. “Working with the duke, planning the events that match him to a bride, will make me the most sought-after planner in England. This is my whole career on the line.”
I don’t argue that I could care less about his career. I could, but it seems pointless. I’ll do what’s in my best interest, nothing more and nothing less.
And if that’s in Ken’s way, he can find out what it means to threaten a Russian. I give him a long, cold stare before I turn and grab a glass of champagne from a passing tray.
Taking a sip, I start to do a slow circle about the room.
But none of the conversations are any help at all.
What I mostly hear is giggling women talking about how handsome Win is and how impressive his dukedom has become.
I try not to roll my eyes. They’re already doomed. Win isn’t marrying a woman prone to giggling. Even I know that.
And dukes do not make good husbands.
My mother married my father when she got pregnant with my older brother Dimitri because my father was rich and powerful.
Coming from poverty, she thought he’d provide a beautiful life. What he gave her was absolute misery wrapped in a pretty bow.
Win finally enters the ballroom, the crowd parting to make room for him.
I take a step back, moving closer to the wall as I observe.
He’s a man other men look up to, that much is clear. Even the other lords vie for his attention, their body language speaking of nothing but respect and deference.
I take another slow sip of my champagne, watching as he gives a bit of attention to everyone while not allowing himself to be trapped in any one conversation.
He’s masterful. Effortless in his command of the room.
My father tries for this sort of control, but he runs his crew by fear, which means, when his back is turned, there are always whispers and sneers.
I nearly convinced one of his guards to kill him once. Promised the man I’d run away with him after. But Sergey failed and ended up dead. I ended up with a knife wound in my side. A lesson from my father on betrayal.
My hand comes to the scar, a frown pulling down the corners of my mouth.
That’s when Win’s gaze meets mine. I duck my chin, not wanting weak thoughts tonight. I’ll need my strength as I decide what comes next.
But I feel him moving closer, even as I keep my gaze averted.
He stops just in front of me. “Kat.”
“Your Grace,” I murmur, placing a mask over my features as I lift my gaze. “To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your company?”
“What’s wrong?”
I let out a small sigh of exasperation. How like him to not answer my question and, instead, ask one of his own. “Not a thing. It’s a lovely event filled with lovely women.”
He frowns. “What did Ken say to you?”
Had he seen Ken walk me into the ballroom? “Nothing of consequence.”
“Lie.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Has anyone ever told you that your one-word answers are annoying?”
“Yes.”
That pulls a small smile from my lips. From my right, a couple approaches with a young woman in tow.
She’s a lovely, wispy thing, with blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes. Small and encased in white lace, she looks as though a breeze might blow her away.
“Your Grace,” the man bows. “Lord Herbert Shrewsbury, Baron of Clearwater.”
Win nods back.
“May I present my wife, Baroness Clearwater, and my daughter, Lady Elizabeth.”
The wispy blonde bobs into a curtsy, the color draining from her face. I try to keep my features expressionless, but my mind is busy picturing Win married to Elizebeth. He’d frighten her to death. Seriously.
I actually think she would die.
“Pleasure,” Win manages to push out through his lips, his look of contempt barely hidden.
Elizabeth curtsies again, seeming to be struck dumb. I’m sure among this garden of English roses, there is a woman with a bit of tenacity. I just haven’t met her yet.
There are some alpha males who like soft women they can coddle. Win isn’t one of those men. He wants to be challenged, and Lady Elizabeth could not be further from a challenge.
“And who is this lovely young lady?” Baroness Clearwater asks, eyeing me up and down.
I give her a regal nod in return, before I look back at Win. This is one instance where I will follow his lead. I’m not looking to make any moves yet, just gather information.
“This is a dear friend of the family,” he answers for me, his hand lightly touching my elbow. “Her family works closely with mine in the States.”
It’s a simple enough explanation and the truth. Which I admire.
“Oh, what does your family do?” the baroness asks. “Are they also in real estate?”
My lips part as all sorts of naughty answers dance on my tongue. Should I tell her that my brother runs a network of brothels? That my father is head of a Bratva family? But I don’t say any of those things. Instead, I take a page from Win’s notebook and answer with a simple word. “Yes.”
The baron’s eyes light up. “Do they own casinos as well?”
“Yes.” Technically, until two days ago, I owned a casino of my very own. I sold it for this opportunity.
I look at Win deciding how badly I’ve been cheated. To be determined…