“I know of him, Ms. Rostov.”
“Yes. I’m sure you do.”
“And you want me to believe that you’re a scholar?”
Katie longed to slap that smug look from Kazimir Savitch’s arrogant, too-handsome-for-his-own-good face.
“I don’t claim to be a scholar. But I do have a degree. My father thought to humor me.” Her smile was swift and bitter. “He believed college might be the best place for me to find a wealthy husband.”
“Until he figured out a way to sell you to Prince Dmitri.”
“You said that you know him.” She hesitated. “Do you know him well?”
Why tell her Dmitri was his uncle? The very thought was repugnant.
Kaz shrugged. “Sardovia is a small country. And you want me to believe that the Ekaterina Rostov the media knows and the Ekaterina Rostov in my office are two different women.”
God, how self-righteous he sounded. Katie’s temper soared.
“That you don’t know better than to believe everything you read only proves what an abysmal ass you are!”
Her heart flew into her throat as the full impact of what she’d just said hit her.
Kazimir Stavitch was looking at her as if he wanted to murder her.
Or maybe haul her over his knee and paddle her.
Or maybe—or maybe silence her by putting his firm, sculpted mouth against hers and kissing her until she was senseless.
The image was almost overpowering. That she would, even for a moment, be attracted to a man like this…
“Don’t stop now,” he said softly. “Go ahead. Your observations of me are fascinating.”
“Nothing about being here is fascinating,” Katie said, forcing the words to sound loaded with disdain. “And I’m hungry.” She tossed the Times aside and got to her feet. “Surely even prisoners get bread and water.”
Nothing. No response. No reaction at all.
/> “Mr. Savitch. My father will not reward you if I show up looking like a skeleton.”
“You have far too many curves to look like a skeleton, Ms. Rostov.”
His voice was low. Silken. Her breath caught. The way he was looking at her…
“You will not speak to me in that manner,” she said, and hoped he didn’t catch the unsteadiness in her words.
He didn’t answer. Then he smiled.
The smile was almost her undoing.
It was masculine. Sexy. It made her forget what he was, who he was…
He stood up. Came slowly toward her. Before she could reach for her coat, it was in his hands.
He held it open.
She thought about refusing to accept the gesture, but she sensed that might be dangerous. The way he was looking at her was dangerous. It was safer to turn her back to him, let him help her into the coat…
Let herself close her eyes, only for an instant, and think about what it would be like to lean back against him.