In Wilde Country Read Online Free PDF

York Times.
    “I know what you said, Mr. Savitch, but I thought, you know, a little variety…”
    Her voice trailed away. Ekaterina Rostov looked at her.
    “Thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you, Miss…?”
    “It’s Susan.”
    “Thank you, Susan. For the Times, especially. That was very thoughtful.”
    Kaz pretended he was reading a report, but he watched the little performance. A performance was surely what it was, and a good one. The pleasant voice. The polite words. The smile. It all seemed genuine enough that his PA flashed him a look that could only be called disapproving as she left his office.
    Kaz frowned, went back to reading the reports…
    No. Not really.
    Having someone in the room while he worked was a distraction. Having a female someone, a gorgeous someone, even if she was a pain-in-the-ass someone…
    He looked up.
    Ekaterina Rostov had taken off her coat and placed it neatly beside her. She wore a simple gray dress. Long sleeves, rounded neckline, the skirt just skimming her knees as she sat stiffly upright, feet planted side by side.
    She was reading.
    Wearing glasses, and reading.
    Glasses?
    What kind of party girl would be seen in glasses as she read the Times?
    Kaz put down the report he’d been pretending to read.
    “What are you doing?”
    His tone was harsh. She looked up and stared at him.
    “What does it look like I’m doing?”
    “I got you a bunch of magazines.”
    “Unfortunately, I don’t read the ones you requested.”
    “Give me a break, Ms. Rostov. The Times?”
    Her gaze was cool and steady. “The euro is down against the dollar. Perhaps it’s just as well that Sardovia didn’t give up the zlot for the euro.”
    Kaz blinked. “Excuse me?”
    “I said—”
    “I heard what you said. And I don’t know what it is you’re trying to pull, but it won’t work.”
    “I agree.”
    “What is that supposed to mean?”
    “It means that the individual who actually administers this fund might be interested in what’s happening to the euro, but we both know that person is not you.”
    “Are you crazy? Of course it’s me.”
    “Yes, so you would like the king and the people to think, but—”
    “Who filled you with such nonsense? Your father?”
    “I am aware of life’s realities.”
    “You are aware of the cushy life you lead. What could you possibly know about international currency?”
    Katie glared at her guard. Her captor. The man who would deliver her into a lifetime of servitude. Why play games? She had kept the media from knowing anything about her beyond the lies, the façade she had created as self-protection, but what did that matter now? What did it matter what anyone thought about her, especially this man?
    “I find economics interesting. I studied it in school.”
    He laughed.
    “I’m glad that amuses you.”
    “Let me get this straight. You want me to believe that you have a degree in eco?”
    “No. That’s incorrect.”
    Kaz snorted. “Yeah. I’ll bet it is.”
    “My degree is in sociology, but I took several courses in finance.”
    “You. The daughter of a thug named Gregor Rostov.”
    “Why would you, of all people, call my father a thug?”
    “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