Chapter 9
Duke
“Baby, I miss you. Terribly,” Katarina says in her smooth and sultry Russian accent.
“You saw me yesterday, kitten,” I croon, but my tone hardens ever so slightly when I add, “And you know how busy I am. I’ll give you all the time you need when things settle down.”
Katarina’s groan vibrates down the line like a purr. “I could come over and give you something you need right now.”
Sitting back in my executive chair, I swipe my tongue over my lips and taste Grace’s kiss. I was still painfully hard when Katarina called, but my fiancée’s voice cools my ardor faster than the cold shower I’d planned to take.
I had considered ignoring my phone, but avoiding Katarina for too long is inviting trouble. She might turn up at the office and that’s the last thing I need with Grace in the building.
My voice is oily smooth despite my tensed jaw when I say, “Why don’t you just tell me what you’d do to me? And don’t miss out any details.”
Katarina gives a throaty laugh. “Then sit back in that big leather chair and make yourself comfortable.”
My molars start to ache. “I’ll need you alone,” I tell her. “You’re going to enjoy this too.”
I listen to the sharp tap of her stilettos on the tiled floor of her apartment. “Oh, I always do with you in charge, baby.”
As I wait for Katarina to reach her bedroom, I dig my fingers into my scalp. I feel sick talking dirty to Katarina when I had Grace in my arms only moments ago.
On the other end of the line, a door closes and Katarina heaves out a sigh. “And... cut.”
I swallow back bile, repulsed by the conversation we’ve just had, but relieved the acting is over. For now. “This had better be fucking important,” I hiss.
Our subterfuge is a necessary precaution while Katarina is being watched around the clock. Her two bodyguards work for her uncle, Vasili Barkov, and their job is to spy on her as much as it is to protect what the Pakhan of the Bratva considers his property.
Katarina and I have created a code so she can warn me when Danyl and Andrey are in earshot. If she uses a word from a list we’ve drawn up, words like terribly, I know our exchange will be reported verbatim back to her uncle.
Vasili has been trying to expand his business interests into the US for years, but after losing significant territory this summer, he’s relying on his niece to acquire the power and influence he craves.
For a man who amassed his fortune through human trafficking, treating Katarina as an asset to be exploited comes naturally.
He doesn’t care who she marries as long as it’s someone with access to the people he wants to impress, or corrupt. As a Moncrief, I meet Vasili’s criteria, as did Katarina’s last two suitors who escaped his net. He’s hoping for third time lucky.
“It’s such a joy talking to you, Duke,” Katarina snipes back. “And I swear, if you call me kitten one more time, I will cut your throat.”
I wish she were joking, but the Bratva princess is bat shit crazy and undoubtedly capable of following through with her threat.
“What do you want, Katarina?” I push anyway.
“Shall we start with why you sent Max chasing after a woman yesterday?”
I’d made sure to distract Danyl and Andrey, but I should have known Katarina would notice something.
I want to tell her it’s none of her fucking business, but if I don’t provide a convincing explanation, she’ll only look into it more deeply.
She likes to collect information on people and she’s not averse to using it against them.
Even the one person who’s put his life on hold to help her.
“It was an ex-employee, one we’d been trying to track down for a while.
She and an accomplice, a boyfriend we think, developed a sophisticated system of cloning hotel keycards,” I explain, spinning a story with enough detail to sound convincing.
“They disappeared a few months back and yesterday she got away again.” I laugh for added authenticity.
“Just don’t ask Max how he got the burn on his cheek. ”
“Why would I care about his face?” she scoffs. “That man hates me. I hope the burn leaves a scar.”
Her sharp tongue is the reason people find it so easy to dislike her. I have to remind myself that it’s a defense mechanism, and she’s certainly had a lot to defend herself from in her twenty years.
“Was there anything else, Katarina?”
“I’ve been speaking to my uncle,” she says, getting to the true reason for the call. “He doesn’t like that we still haven’t set a date for the wedding. He’s getting impatient.”
“He’s not the only one.”
It’s not the wedding I’m impatient for because there isn’t going to be one. Vasili would be apoplectic if he knew that rather than buying him influence, our engagement has been all about buying Katarina time – time that’s stretched far longer than anyone anticipated. Me especially.
When I’d agree to play her latest conquest, we were only supposed to be engaged for a matter of days, long enough to stop Vasili recalling Katarina back to Russia, and for her to fake her death and disappear.
Unfortunately, the original plan had to be aborted and my good deed hasn’t gone unpunished ever since.
It’s the Griffins who are helping Katarina escape her uncle’s clutches. Ash and his brothers are good friends of my family, and they’re good men for wanting to help the Bratva princess despite her being a pain in everyone’s ass.
“Vasili is of the view I’ll be unmarriageable once I turn twenty-one,” Katarina complains. “He wants me to remind you that if you fail to honor your promise…”
She doesn’t have to finish her sentence. Vasili has told me in graphic detail what would happen if I tried to back out. The only way I’ll be able to avoid his wrath is if there isn’t a bride to marry. A ‘dead’ Katarina would answer all our prayers.
“I hope you told him I won’t,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Naturally, but my uncle has felt it necessary to line up an alternative suitor.”
There’s a soft thud as she drops onto her bed. The air driven from her lungs sounds too close to a sob. It’s not in Katarina’s nature to cry, the softer emotions have been conditioned out of her, but once in a while I glimpse the vulnerability she normally disguises with her acid tongue.
“Who is it?” I ask.
“A South African businessman he’s become very friendly with lately, the kind who likes them young,” she says. “Younger than twenty-one.”
I’m grinding my molars again. Katarina’s still a kid in many respects. She’s never been able to exert much control over her life and I’m not sure how she’ll cope once she’s free to live completely independently. And then I remember. She’s a Barkov.
Katarina is a melting pot of contradictions. She might be vulnerable, but she’s also deadly, and as much as I want to help her, I’m not fool enough to think I can trust her. I certainly don’t trust her enough to tell her about Grace. If I’m careful, I shouldn’t need to.
“For fuck’s sake, Katarina, the only person delaying your escape is you. You’re the one who needs to commit to a fucking departure date,” I say, losing what little sympathy I have left for her. “Ash has given you countless options. You just need to pick one.”
“I’m not getting exiled to some godforsaken corner of the planet to die of boredom, Duke. Would you?”
“Sounds like paradise.”
Katarina makes that purring noise again. “Are you offering to come with me?”
“No,” I answer without hesitation. It’s Grace I want to be marooned with. Just the thought of her has my cock twitching back to life. “Are we done?”
Katarina hears the rasp in my voice. “I don’t know, are we? You sound tense and I have the perfect way to relax you. I don’t think you were entirely acting before, were you, baby?”
I sit up straight. I never can tell when Katarina’s serious or just pulling my chain. “Let’s not pretend there’s even the remotest possibility we could satisfy each other,” I say bluntly. “Goodbye, kitten.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath and I end the call before she explodes. Katarina is driving me insane, but that’s not why my gut keeps twisting. My official reunion with Grace couldn’t have gone worse, but what the hell did I expect?
The night we’d met, she’d lacked self-belief, but she was also a woman who wasn’t afraid to take what she wanted. Grace had been no less vocal today, only this time she’d told me what she doesn’t want – another man like her scumbag husband who can’t keep his dick in his pants.
Now I’m the scumbag for planning to cheat on my fiancée.
“Fuck!” I hiss. I can’t lay a finger on Grace until this nightmare is over.
Except I did touch her and that kiss was not fucking ‘meh.’ My angel knew it. Her panties were dripping wet and I wanted so much to sink my fingers into that sweet mess she made.
It was recalling that look of hurt on her face from yesterday that stopped me. Grace had come to Chicago for her Hallmark movie ending, only to discover the man who said he wasn’t looking to get involved with anyone, had found himself a stunning new bride.
Not that Katarina compares to Grace by any stretch. Watching her as she stepped into my office had taken my breath away. Gone was the pixie-cut, replaced by locks of hair long enough to wrap around my fist while I…
Damn it! I wish I could have kept her locked in here all day. More than anything, I just wanted to hold her and kiss away the pain I’d seen in her red rimmed eyes. I’d made her cry.
I slump over my desk. I don’t know what I was thinking. Once it became clear Katarina was going to be a pain in my side for longer than anticipated, I should have got Noah to rescind the offer he made to Grace, but she’d already handed in her notice and found tenants for her house.
We just have to bide our time, and until then, I’ll have to stay faithful to my fiancée even if it matters more to Grace than it would to Katarina. Or I assume it wouldn’t matter to her. My fiancée does crave drama. If I could back out of this I would, but there’s more than my life on the line.