A Rich Man's Whim(32)
‘You know,’ Mikhail contradicted without hesitation. ‘Lorne couldn’t take his eyes off you.’
‘But I was only trying to make him feel welcome. There was no subtext and nothing else intended,’ Kat told him quietly. ‘I wouldn’t do anything to embarrass you either but you do need to be aware of the boundaries of that agreement.’
‘In what way?’ Mikhail prompted, marvelling that against all odds she had managed to talk him down from his rage, somehow cutting through all the aggro to make him think clearly again. Even so, he didn’t like the explosive, unpredictable effect she had on his mood; he didn’t like it at all. Lorne was a business partner and a friend, but, if the other man had gone even one step further with Kat, Mikhail knew he would have struck him. The sight of Lorne’s hand on Kat had enraged him and that disturbed him as well. In all fairness, what could have happened between Lorne and Kat in a room full of people? Nothing, his logic answered. He had never been a possessive man when it came to women but Kat roused unsettling reactions in him. He didn’t want another man anywhere near her. But where did she get off calling him a caveman? He was a highly sophisticated, educated guy, who had never treated a woman in a less than civilised manner. Had he been the barbarian she suggested he would already have seduced her and dragged her off to his bed, instead of which he was, for the first time in his life, practising restraint with a woman and giving her the chance to get to know him … for all the good that that was doing him, he reflected broodingly as he recalled the caveman insult.
Mikhail shifted an infinitesimal distance closer and her big green eyes widened. Beautiful eyes but not doe’s eyes. Kat’s eyes were wide, wary, and suspicious. He lifted a hand and ran his forefinger gently down the side of her face. ‘In what way do I need to be aware?’
Kat blinked. For a split second her entire mind was a terrifying, disorientating blank. The touch of his finger had whispered down her cheekbone like a teasing caress and he was so close her nostrils were flaring on the spicy tang of the cologne he wore and the underlying scent of clean warm male. Butterflies broke loose in her tummy, her nipples tightening and lengthening below her clothing. ‘Aware?’ she queried uncertainly.
‘You said I had to be aware of the boundaries of our legal agreement,’ Mikhail reminded her, black-lashed dark eyes turned a mesmeric gold as they connected with hers.
Like a doll re-equipped with a new battery, Kat’s brain suddenly switched back on. ‘Oh, yes, the agreement. I think you need to be reminded that you don’t own me. I don’t belong to you in any way—’
‘Nor do you belong to anyone else,’ Mikhail pointed out with lethal cool. ‘You’re up for grabs—’
‘No, I’m not!’ Kat countered speedily, keen to kick that idea to the kerb. ‘I’m not interested in a relationship with anyone—’
‘Except with me,’ Mikhail slotted in silkily, as stubborn as a mule in pursuit of his goal.
Oh, my word, those long curling eyelashes went for her every time he got close, a quite unnecessary dramatic embellishment to his stunning dark gaze, Kat reflected dizzily. Her mouth was running dry, her brain on overload, physical impressions flooding her and washing away logical thought.
‘You want me,’ Mikhail told her with a deep roughened edge to his powerful voice that shimmied down her taut spine and made her tremble.
Without any warning that she picked up on, he framed her face with long splayed fingers and kissed her. It was drugging, wildly intoxicating, like an adrenalin shot straight into the veins. One minute she was thinking no, this can’t happen, I must stop it here and now, and the next the hungry and continuing pressure of that wide sensual mouth was what she wanted and needed most in the world.
With a muffled sound thrumming deep in his broad chest, Mikhail gathered her up into his arms and sank down in the chair behind the desk. For a split second he appraised her flushed and lovely face, the dazed expression in her eyes for once empty of defiance and censure, and it grabbed hold of every base male instinct in his body. He wanted her so much more than he had ever wanted any other woman. He wanted her under him, over him, in every possible position. He wanted her to accept that she was his. He wanted to see that look of bliss on her face for him again and again and again. Tamping down his ferocious hunger to possess, he lifted her up to him and darted his tongue between her lips in a rhythmic invasion, revelling in the sweetness of her response and the little moan she could not hold back.