I didn’t pull my legs away. I let his hand roam and wondered if it felt as good as Rome’s on me, if I liked comfort as much as I liked Rome’s heat.
The difference between them was that I felt safe near Bastian, like he would wrap me up in pillows and treat me like a treasure.
“The plan extends beyond you staying here, Katie. We have to work him hard enough that he approaches us alone, that he wants answers from you so bad, he’s willing to step up to me with you on my arm.”
“Georgie’s a coward,” I stated, as if that explained why he would never approach Bastian. They had to know that, right?
“For the next week, I’ll take you out once or twice, but otherwise, you stay here. It’ll drive him crazy. Come time for the gala, he’ll have enough unanswered questions that either the men he’s working for will be wondering or he’ll be bursting at the seams to talk. We’ll get him then.”
“So, you want to keep me cooped up here twenty-four seven?” My voice came out as a squeak. I wasn’t good at staying put, wasn’t good at feeling locked in.
It’s only a few weeks.
That sounded like years and years in my head.
I propped myself up on my elbows to look at him. “You going to be okay with me here all the time?”
He smiled like a Cheshire cat and dipped a finger in a tiny hole that had formed at the top of my sock, against my calf. These were my favorite socks, and I hadn’t replaced them even when they’d worn through in certain parts. “I think I can handle you and your ratty socks. Don’t worry about me.”
“Oh, really?” I laughed and wiggled my calf away from him. “Our arrangement is going to make it pretty hard for you. In every sense of the word.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “How so?”
I feigned offense by holding my hand to my heart. “Excuse you, asshole. I’m hot as hell.” I curled my legs off him and stood up to do a twirl in my short shorts and cut-off top. With my hands on my hips, I popped my tits out in front of him. “I’ll be walking around here however I want, in whatever I want.”
“Even those socks?” he said as he feigned being scared.
“Oh, shut up. These socks just add to my appeal. You ready to remain celibate and have this right in front of you?”
Bastian bit his bottom lip and eyed me up and down as he leaned back in the chair, spreading his legs in his sweats like he owned the room and wasn’t at all worried about me in front of him.
A fire sparked small in my stomach, a challenge almost. The man controlled a city and thought he could control me. Something about bringing him to his knees appealed to me. The way he looked at me with such arrogance and heat appealed to me too.
“Who says I’m remaining celibate, Katalina?”
“You think you’re bringing women back here when I live here?” I shook my head. “Not happening. I’m not listening to that.”
“I don’t need to fuck in my own home. You think I can’t take a woman wherever I want in the city I own? If I want to fuck in the alley, I will. If I want to fuck in a club, I will. If I want to fuck in the middle of Chicago traffic in broad daylight, I will.”
My nipples tightened at his bold words, and he stared at them, watching them pebble. Something was happening between us, and I wasn’t sure I should continue to indulge in it.
I turned my back on him and walked to his kitchen. “Whatever you say, Bastian.” I waved him and the feeling off. This was supposed to be just an arrangement. Just for show.
“What do you have to eat?” I asked.
He got up and came over. “Why don’t you finish unpacking, and I’ll whip up dinner. You like pasta, yeah?”
“Doesn’t every girl like pasta?” I said through a smile. “You cook?”
“Sure.” He shrugged and rounded the counters to the refrigerator. He pulled sauce and a bowl of pasta dough from the refrigerator.
“Are those hand rolled?” My voice was higher than I wanted it to be. Pasta was actually a freaking weakness of mine, and this might have been the only time in my life I was trying handmade.
He side-eyed me. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Why do you look like you want to fuck me on the counter right now, woman?”
“Did you make that?”
He chuckled as he pulled out expensive pots and pans. “Katie, my momma taught me to cook when I was young, before she passed. I promise she never disappointed and made sure I never disappointed either. We only eat handmade in this house.”