His hands brushed her shoulders. She bit back a moan. What was wrong with her?
The answer was simple. She was tired. Worn out. There was no other explanation.
Besides, she knew what he was doing, that he was using charm or sex appeal, whatever you wanted to call it, to make her compliant.
If that was his plan, he was in for a difficult time.
* * * *
They walked along Fifth Avenue, his hand clasping her elbow.
She suspected they looked as if they were out on a date, perhaps as if they were lovers, but his grasp felt like iron. He wasn’t hurting her, but his strategy was clear.
He was not going to give her the chance to escape him.
The streets were crowded. Christmas was only days away, and shoppers were out in full force, clustered around the windows of Saks to ooh and aah at the beautiful holiday displays. Sidewalk Santas seemed to be everywhere, ringing their bells and wishing passersby Merry Christmas. There was even the feel of snow in the air.
Katie thought of what it would be like if they really were on a date, how thrilled she’d be to have this big, beautiful man at her side. They’d walk more slowly, take their time; their fingers would be intertwined. He’d smile at the things she said; she’d look up at him and laugh at his little jokes. They’d stop at the corner; he’d buy a bag of roasted chestnuts. She’d bite into one and tell him how delicious it was, and he’d look at her, his eyes gone dark and smoky, and bend his head to hers, right there in the crowded street, and he’d tell her that she was what was delicious, and he’d kiss her and kiss her…
“Here we are.”
She blinked.
Kazimir Savitch was holding open the door to a small restaurant. A rush of warm air and exotic spices engulfed her as she stepped inside.
“It’s Thai,” he said. “Is that all right with you?”
She looked at him. “You mean, I get a choice?”
His face darkened. He put his hand in the small of her back, pushed her forward.
“Mr. Savitch. It is good to see you, sir.”
The hostess was all smiles as she greeted them, then led them to a booth. Katie shrugged out of her coat before Kaz could try to help her. He reached for it, but she shook her head and left it draped around her shoulders as she slid into the booth.
Kaz sat down opposite her. A waiter offered them menus, but he waved them away.
“The red curry is great,” he said, looking at Katie. “So is the pad Thai. And the soups are—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
A muscle knotted in his cheek. He ordered half a dozen dishes. Katie said nothing. Once the waiter was gone, Kaz leaned forward.
On the walk here, he’d rethought the situation. Ekaterina Rostov was what she was. The same could be said for his foolishness in letting Zach lure him into this assignment. They had a couple of days to endure and then they’d be free of each other. It would be easier on them both if they got through those days without constant sniping.
“Ms. Rostov. I am not the enemy.”
“No? Then what are you?”
“I’m the man who’s charged with seeing to it that you don’t get yourself in trouble between now and Sunday, when I deliver you to Sardovia.”
She made a sound that might have been a laugh. He could have sworn he felt his blood pressure rise.
“You find that amusing?”
“Just listen to yourself, Mr. Savitch. You are going to deliver me. An interesting choice of words.”
“It’s even more interesting that you’re the Christmas gift for a man you’ve never set eyes on. Doesn’t that bother you?”