I’m walking back from the restroom when I see him again.
My heart leaps, needles of adrenaline biting into my skin.
Walking toward me is none other than the man who’s been on my mind for the past two days.
Alex Volkov, the Russian oligarch himself.
3
Alex is strolling leisurely down the hallway, dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray sweater. The clothes hug his large frame, revealing wide shoulders and a muscular build. A pair of hard-looking men are walking a few yards behind him, their eyes sharp and vigilant. His bodyguards.
He’s looking at the phone in his hand, and I speed up, hoping I’ll be able to walk past him unnoticed.
No such luck.
As though sensing my gaze on him, he looks up, and his blue eyes narrow with recognition. Then a small smile curves his lips, softening them a bit.
A warm shiver snakes down my spine, heating my skin, even as some instinct tells me to run. The urge is so strong my leg muscles tighten with it, the needles of adrenaline sinking deeper into my skin and spiking my heart rate.
Don’t be a coward, Kate.
Steeling my spine, I continue walking toward him, trying not to react to the way his eyes rake over my body and finally linger on my mouth. When he meets my gaze again, there’s so much heat in the look he gives me I may burn on the spot. My core clenches, and liquid warmth dampens my underwear.
Dammit. This is insane.
He stops in front of me. I’m cognizant of his bodyguards a few yards away, but all my attention is focused on him. I’d forgotten how tall he is, how big his body is compared to mine. I have to crane my neck to meet his eyes, and I can’t help but be conscious of his size, his strength, his sheer maleness.
His accented voice is soft and slightly mocking, as if he knows the effect he has on me. “Hello, Katerina.”
I stare up at him, Joanne’s words ringing in my ears. I’ve always approached my relationships the same way as everything else, with a calm, steady rationality. I’ve never been one to leap before I looked. That’s my mom’s way, not mine. I like to think, to apply the same logical reasoning to dating as I do to my career. Casual hookups weren’t my thing in college, and I’ve never had a one-night stand. The risks have never been worth the benefits. Instead, I’ve dated men I’ve liked and respected, with whom I’ve connected on a mental and emotional level. A man’s personality has always been far more important to me than his looks.
I have no idea what Alex’s personality is like. I don’t know him at all. There’s nothing logical in the way he makes me feel, nothing rational in the way my body reacts to his. Something within me responds to him on a subconscious, instinctive level, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Worst yet, what little I do know about him is frightening. He’s a wealthy man from a place where wealth and corruption go hand in hand, and he’s pissed off someone enough that they want to kill him. How crazy would it be to get involved with someone like that?
Insane. Completely, totally, and utterly irresponsible.
Yet yesterday’s thought about throwing caution to the wind keeps wiggling into my mind. What if Joanne is right? It’s not as if I’m going to marry or even date the guy. All he wants is a brief sexual fling. I can sleep with him, get this strange craving out of my system, and go back to my normal life. I’m not ready for another relationship—the incident with Tony has left a sour taste in my mouth—and Alex isn’t looking for one. Would it really be so terrible to do something impulsive for once and give in to this attraction? To hook up with an attractive man?
Before I can think better of it, I give Alex an answering smile. “Hi. How’s Igor doing?”
Something dark flashes across his face before his expression smooths out and turns inscrutable. “He’s much better, thanks.”
His eyes travel down my body again, making me feel flushed all over. I’ve never felt so blatantly desired in my life, and it’s incredibly seductive.
When he looks back at me, there’s a cynical tilt to his lips. “What time does your shift end?” His voice is low and deep, his tone self-assured. Somehow, he’s sensed my weakening resolve.
I swallow. “At ten.”
I can’t believe myself. Am I really going to do this? Agree to a purely sexual arrangement with a man I barely know?
He flashes me a darkly sensual smile that makes my core tighten with desire. “I’d like to see you tonight. How about we grab a bite to eat after your shift ends?”
I hesitate. Despite his animal magnetism, there’s something unsettling about him, some hardness in the line of his mouth that makes me think he can be ruthless. How can I even think about getting involved with a man like that? Someone who’s a total stranger? What if he’s as corrupt and dangerous as Nadia portrayed the wealthy Russians to be?