In Wilde Country Read Online Free PDF Page A

Dracula.
    “Who?”
    “The prince of Sardovia.”
    Holy shit. This beautiful, fiery woman was marrying his uncle Dmitri? Dmitri, who seemed intent on making Kaz’s dead father look like a saint?
    “Do you know him?” she said quietly.
    “Yes.”
    “And?”
    “And, what?”
    “What is he like?”
    “Don’t you know?”
    She shook her head. “I have never—I have never met him.”
    An arranged marriage? Kaz knew they still existed, not only among the few royals left in the world, but also among the very rich. But surely, even in arranged marriages, the couple had contact with each other.
    “My father made the arrangements.”
    “Well,” he said coldly, “aren’t you lucky to have such a doting dad!”
    Everything about Ekaterina Rostov seemed to change. Was that the glitter of tears in her violet eyes? Was her mouth trembling? The bright color that had stained her cheeks drained from her face.
    Kaz frowned.
    “Ms. Rostov?”
    He could see her fighting whatever was happening. Dammit! The woman was a sharp-tongued, self-centered piece of fluff. He didn’t like her at all and he would deliver her without any hesitation to the fool of a man who wanted her, but he had no interest in making her cry.
    “Ms. Rostov.” Kaz moved closer. Are you all right?”
    She shut her eyes. He had the sudden insane desire to close the remaining space between them and draw her into his arms.
    He stepped nearer. Nearer…
    She blinked. Looked at him. Whatever he’d thought he’d seen in her eyes was gone.
    “I see no reason to discuss my family with you, Mr. Savitch. You are an employee. Nothing more.”
    Her tone took cold to an entirely new level. Kaz responded in kind.
    “You are correct, Ms. Rostov. There’s no reason for us to discuss anything. Now, I have work to do.”
    He turned away from her, went to his desk, sat down and began leafing through a stack of papers. A moment passed.
    “Mr. Savitch.”
    Kaz looked up.
    “Surely, you cannot expect me to spend the day standing here.”
    “I offered you a chair.”
    “You told me to sit. One tells pet dogs to sit. I am not your pet.”
    X-rated images filled Kaz’s head.
    He imagined what it would be like to pet her, touch her, run his hand over that fall of platinum hair, stroke his finger lightly along her plump mouth until her lips parted in invitation. She wouldn’t be so damned haughty once he’d undressed her, caressed her, made her beg for him to take her…
    Hell.
    Kaz hit the call button on the intercom.
    “Sir?”
    “Susan. Go to the newsstand in the lobby. Buy some magazines. Newspapers.”
    “What kind, sir?”
    Kaz glared at Ekaterina Rostov. “What do you like to read?”
    The New York Times. The New York Review of Books…
    “Ms. Rostov. What do you want from the newsstand?”
    “Save your money. I don’t want anything.”
    “Use your judgment, Susan. Half a dozen gossip magazines. Stuff about fashion,” Kaz said, never taking his gaze from his assignment. Because that was what she was. An overly- indulged assignment with enough attitude to launch a rocket, and why in hell had he been stupid enough to let Castelianos dump her on him? “Glossy crap. Just don’t get anything that uses words of more than two syllables. Got that?”
    “Got it, sir. Uh, Mr. Savitch? The minister phoned again. He said—”
    “I’m not interested in what he said. Get those magazines, please.”
    Kaz disconnected. His PA did, too.
    And if looks could kill, the one Ekaterina Rostov shot him would surely have done the job.

CHAPTER FOUR
    T en minutes later, Susan knocked at the door. She had half a dozen magazines clutched to her chest.
    Kaz jerked his chin toward the low table in front of the black leather sofa that stood at the far end of his office
    “Put them there.”
    His PA nodded and did what he’d asked with only a quick look at the woman sitting stiffly in the corner of the sofa.
    “What’s that?” Kaz said, glowering at a copy of the day’s New