How different he was from Viktor and his men, with their whores every night. Jae Han Song was cool and refined, a crisp, beautiful model of discipline and strength next to the rabble of uncouth messiness I had been shipped off to. I’d heard the men saying his name when he’d left, and it had struck me as being as beautiful as he was.
I looked around the room. It was like Jae Han. Cold and beautiful. Dark wooden floors and white, pristine walls. Black and white art hung on the walls, and a vase of blood-red roses sat in the bay window. I turned my legs and stood up. The smell of myself immediately hit me, and I nearly gagged. I went to the three doors set in one wall and tried one. It was locked. I tried the next and found it was a dressing room. A plush carpet and rows upon rows of empty velvet-lined shelves met my gaze, whispering of a life I’d never have. The next door was the bathroom. I entered and stared at the walk-in marble shower. It had matte gold taps and a rainfall showerhead, and it might have been the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. Even the toilet could have reduced me to tears if I was a weaker woman.
I got in the shower, leaving my filthy clothes in the corner of the white marble floor. It felt wrong to put something so dirty against such a pretty surface. The hot water rained down gently on me, and I adjusted the pressure to make it pound at me. I needed a power hose to wash away the memories of the last few weeks. Dark water swirled down the drain, and I washed my hair with shampoo from bottles set in the wall in fancy holders. It smelled prettier than the fanciest perfume Viktor had ever bought for me.
Getting out after the longest shower, I wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at myself. There I was—same old Katya. Somehow, I’d survived again. My mother had always told me I was like a cat and had nine lives. Which life was I on now?
So far, despite what might happen to me in Jae Han Song’s home, it was the best one.
I thought of the cold, reserved kingpin who’d brought me here. He’d been about to refuse. I could see how little he wanted to get involved with a random stranger, and then I’d fainted perfectly on cue, and he’d had no choice.
Well, of course, he’d had a choice. He could have left me there for random made men of his family to come and take turns with, or he could have pushed me out of his car on a busy street and left me to the mercy of New York. Worse, he could have simply tipped me out of one of the windows of the old warehouse overlooking the river.
Instead, he’d brought me here to a warm bed, a clean bathroom, and a locked bedroom door. I wrapped my long, white-blonde hair in a towel and wandered around the room, looking for something to wear. I couldn’t find anything. Maybe he’d forgotten to supply it, or maybe I had to earn clothes. Time would tell. Anyway, I had vowed to do anything he wanted, as long as he didn’t send me back, and I’d keep my word.
So far, from what I’d seen of Jae Han Song, complying with his darkest wishes wouldn’t be a hardship at all.
CHAPTER3
Kat
It was nearly lunchtime when the door to the bedroom swung open. I tensed. I was wearing the bedsheet, having wrapped it around myself.
Jae Han stood in the doorway, his eyes landing on me. He immediately stiffened as he took me in.“You’re awake.”
I slid to my knees on the bed. “Yeah, and showered too.”
“So I see.” His eyes tracked over me, lingering on my bare shoulders, sending heat trailing across my skin. “Your name?”
“Kat,” I answered shortly, cutting myself off before I could go further. “You?”
“Song Jae Han. Call me Jae. Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” I said, jumping off the bed and tucking my bedsheet around me. His eyes lingered on it. “I don’t have any clothes, and we should burn the ones I was wearing.”
His mouth quirked as he nodded and then turned away. “Follow me.”
He didn’t need to tell me twice.
I padded barefoot after him, glancing around at his beautiful house as I went. There were antiques everywhere, Asian and European, and I got the impression he was a man who valued history. He took me to a huge kitchen and stepped back. I almost brushed passed him, in a hurry to fall on the food crowding the table. There were all sorts. Rice and side dishes, plus a soup that was so spicy it made my eyes water. I fell on it like a starving woman, and he watched me.
“You’re not eating?”
He shook his head.
“So, all of this is for me?” I asked, oddly touched. In my life, providing food is a meaningful gesture.
“I figured you must be hungry. I confess I don’t know what to do with you. I’ve never been in this situation before.” He took a seat across from me.
“What, having a house guest?”
“Saving someone instead of harming them,” he corrected.
Okay, that was a bit of a conversation stopper.
Instead of answering, I gobbled down the food on the table. The soup was so spicy it made me cough, and it took a good few hacking coughs to sort my rebelling windpipe. I became aware that Jae Han was watching me.
“What?” I asked, merely curious, not defensive. This man was my hero. He could watch as I shoved food down my starving gullet if he wanted.