He would go to her if he had to.
15. KAT
KAT SLAMMED THE DOOR TO her apartment, completely forgetting about disturbing Carson.
She was so mad. Mad with Lukas, yes, but she was more angry with herself than anything. She'd totally lost control with Lukas.
Just one touch from him had been enough. She'd had to struggle to keep her damn panties on. She shook her head. What the hell was wrong with her? This wasn't like her to lose it over a guy. All her life she'd held herself aloof from men and romance.
And what Lukas was doing to her was not acceptable.
Knowing about Marek, and the fact that Lukas was her boss, Kat hadn't wanted to get involved with him, and yet, she'd let him kiss her and touch her. How was she supposed to keep this whole anonymous donor farce going if she kept this up?
And how was she supposed to face him in the office again? All those sounds she'd made when he'd touched her in places that still ached for him... Kat's cheeks were red as she stormed into the kitchen. Carson was awake and sitting at the kitchen counter, reading a novel and poking at a plate of scrambled eggs.
"Hey, babe," Kat said as she dropped her briefcase on the table and sank down beside her friend. Her hair had that glossy, oily, unwashed look that wasn't very flattering, and Kat lifted a gunky strand, giving it a pointed look.
"Yeah, I know." Carson gave her a faint smile and batted Kat's hand away. "This is what you get for falling for a guy like Marek."
"Mmm... That's exactly what I'm afraid of," mumbled Kat, her breasts tightening at the thought of a different Sarkozy doing delicious things to her body.
"Huh?" Carson eyebrows rose.
Kat waved her off. "Nothing. I'm just being silly. Too much on my mind."
"So you're definitely throwing money at the firm?" asked Carson, her voice neutral now. Kat knew that it meant the discussion was not to enter personal territory. And she was completely happy with that.
Kat nodded. "Yup. It's a great cause. Better than I thought it would be, in fact. I'm pretty impressed."
"That sounds comforting. At least you know your money is going to a worthy cause."
She couldn't have found a better place to sink her money if she'd spent a lifetime looking. What were the chances that she'd be working in the very place that would be best for her money? Kind of odd to donate it to one's employer, but she wasn't complaining.
Kat grinned. "Don't you mean Grandfather's money?" she said impishly.
"I'm assuming he'd turn in his grave?" Carson pushed back her dark curls and got to her feet, grimacing at the cold remains on her plate.
Kat let out a bark of laugher. "He'd come back to haunt me if he ever got wind of it." Carson laughed at that as she took her plate to the sink. "Hey, what do you say we go rent a sappy movie and get some takeout?"
"Netflix?" Carson grinned as she headed for the remote.
"Indian?"
Carson nodded, and they settled into their usual relaxing routine as Kat ordered while Carson hunted down an old version of Pride and Prejudice.
Kat left thoughts of paperwork for later, wanting a respite from the tumult of her emotions, however brief.
16. KAT
KAT HAD THE MORNING OFF the next day, spending it chatting with Carson.
Kat regretted even mentioning Ursus Major postponing their tour. She was signed up for their newsletter, and she'd seen it while scanning her email.
Carson had rolled her eyes, pretending it had no effect on her. And although Kat had settled into her morning yoga routine, she hadn't missed Carson's odd reaction when she'd wondered what the name meant.
She'd suspected that Carson already knew, but Kat had dutifully confirmed that it meant something akin to 'Big Bear.' She was a little annoyed with Carson though, feeling that by now she should have pulled herself back together. Marek hadn't miraculously appeared on her doorstep to make up, and Carson didn't seem likely to be doing the same with him.
When Kat had showered and changed, she'd found Carson practicing at the piano in their private lounge, and she'd left her be.
Music would heal Carson.
Kat headed to the office at midday, as usual finding a place to park her silver Lexus three blocks away. The vehicle had been bought at the insistence of her overbearing father.
According to H. Carter Jr., cars were a status symbol, meant to imbue confidence. She'd bought it just to appease him, knowing he hadn't been impressed with her choice to go pro bono and wanting to keep the peace. She hadn't intended to use it for work until she'd given in to the reality that the bus commute to A&L was ridiculous when she actually owned a car.
So she parked in a lot a few blocks away and walked to work. So far nobody had cottoned on.
Once at her desk, she ran through the terms of the contract, updating it as she went. She printed out the final version and signed on the dotted line, before sliding the document into an envelope and sealing it.
The rest of the day passed in a blur: a new client needed relocation, and another claimed she wanted to keep her husband away from her pre-teen daughter.
The last case had taken up pretty much all of the afternoon, and at the end of the day, Kat was wondering if that case was going to be a relocation too. The father happened to be a prominent senator with strong connections within the legal system. Not advantageous for a mother who wanted to keep him away from his daughter.
With the air-conditioning going on the blink again, it all made for a tiring day. Good thing she'd worn a skirt suit today, in lieu of her usual pants. It was still Armani, of course, another thing her father had insisted on when it came to her dress code. He'd said that a professional bearing would imply success. What met the eye was far more convincing than reality, so she had to work on her image before her job.
He'd been on to something, because Kat seldom lost a case, and her clients always thought the world of her. That could have also been a result of Kat's additional cash assistance when her clients were in need.
It was ironic, though, that she was funneling her money into something that benefited these women. It wouldn't stop her from helping Bianca Hawthorne with her rent payments this month, or from paying for Ada Menon's son's field trip.
The grin on her face disappeared when she caught sight of the time. It was after nine, and Lukas had implied he'd come to her if he was late. No way was she going to let him come to her apartment. Not when Carson was there.
She'd drop it off at his place on the way home.
That would be the safest option.
Fiona, Lukas's personal assistant, kept his address on her Rolodex, and after rifling through it, Kat punched it into her GPS and made a note of the code for the front door. Lukas had some fancy security system that meant his front door didn't need a key. All he did was punch in a code, and he'd had one especially created for staff, so he'd know when it was being used.
Apparently the man loved his privacy.
It didn't matter, though. She planned on getting in and out within seconds. He wouldn't even know she had been there except for the envelope.
She'd be quick.
In and out.
Fast.
17. KAT
ENTERING LUKAS'S APARTMENT WAS EASY enough, despite her stupid fear that the code wouldn't work or that she'd set off the alarms like a bumbling idiot.
Once inside, she smiled. The hallway was large, the décor muted, the paint a warm cream, the walls covered in paintings and artwork of various styles. If Lukas had been the one to select his artwork, then she'd guess he went for whatever suited his eye, rather than sticking to a particular style.
Along the left wall of the wide entrance hall sat a long sideboard, filled with bowls and platters of various sizes. Already she could tell that Lukas used them for a number of functions: key holders, letter holders, pen and paper holders.
She spotted a bare space just large enough for the envelope and was rummaging through the bowl of pen and paper for a blank sheet when a sound
emanated from within the apartment.
Kat froze, listening hard for the sound, wondering what on earth would make such a wild, feral sound in the middle of the city. She hoped it was the neighbors TV, and scribbled a note to Lukas before heading for the door.
In and out, fast. That had been the plan.
But as she touched the handle of the entrance door, she hesitated. What if something had happened? What if Lukas was somehow in the apartment, hurt and needing help? That sound had made the hair on the back of her neck rise. It had sounded like a wounded animal, and Kat didn't think it was responsible to leave without checking.
On the other hand, it would be equally responsible to leave and call the cops. But Lukas wouldn't appreciate being molested by the police if there wasn't anything wrong.
Damn.
She had no choice but to investigate the noise.
Still gripping the envelope, she slipped out of her high heels, thinking it wise in case she had to flee for her life, then strode toward the small hall along the left hand wall of the main living area.
Kat stopped in her tracks. What if it was a burglar? She'd need to defend herself. Kat scanned the living room and found a short Japanese blade on the far wall.
Perfect.
She rose on her toes to shimmy the blade off the wall, noting the blunt blade with a little disappointment. Probably a good thing. She didn't need a jail term for defending Lukas's property. Not worth it.
Holding the knife with tight fingers, she headed down the hall, her feet making not a single sound as she reached what looked like the main bedroom. The door sat ajar, and she elbowed it open, her feet sinking into deep, cream-colored pile.
The wall across from her was painted in a red and black satin stripe, a nice feature to set off the mahogany headboard. It seemed rather gothic, but from what she'd read on him and his grandfather, the family did originate from the land of the vampires.
The plush carpet helped to hide her footsteps as she moved further into the room, the knife held out in front of her. Empty.
A sound at her back drew her attention, and she spun on her heel. Bright light slid through the space in the partially open bathroom door. Was the burglar inside the bathroom?
What would a burglar be doing inside the bathroom?
And why the hell are you contemplating tackling a burglar for freak's sake?
Kat stared at the doorway, gathering her courage. She wasn't made for this type of stuff, yet she stepped closer, clutching the crumpled envelope in one hand and the blunt sword in the other.
She tiptoed to the door, her heartbeat roaring in her ears, and nudged the door aside with her shoulder. Inside, the bathroom was all grey slate tiles, chrome, and porcelain. And filled with steam.
What the heck?
Was the burglar showering? Or was Lukas home?
Now that would definitely end badly.
But she had to check. What if it was a murderer instead of a burglar, and they'd showered off the blood from bludgeoning Lukas to death? She couldn't leave, just in case.
And you now want to tackle a murderer head on?
Kat shook her head, her heart tripping in her chest. She really was going crazy. Her footsteps made no sound on the tiled floor, and she walked toward the glass shower cubicle, the knife held out in front of her like a rapier. Pity it couldn't even cut through skin, let alone an entire person.
A gigantic bath towel was hooked beside a shower of a size she'd never seen before. The space must have been the size of most peoples' entire bathrooms. The man must like things in extra-large sizes.
The shower glass was steamed up, and she couldn't see inside. Ugh. She swallowed hard. This was perfect. She'd always hated shower scenes in movies. Someone usually ended up either murdered or boned. In her case, murder seemed the more likely option.
Kat stopped a foot from the door, holding on to the contract with her fingers so her free thumb could hook around the shower door handle. Why had she not left the damned thing on the entrance table?
Her thumb moved an inch from the handle when the shower door opened, and Kat had to backpedal fast so she wouldn't get hit in the face with the glass. It was a wonder that she'd managed to stay on her feet, but she had to admit, having her knees locked with fright did wonders in the not-falling-down department.
A man emerged from the shower. A very naked man.
He reached for the towel hanging from a hook beside the shower and wrapped it around his waist. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on whether he was an axe-murderer or if he was a certain sexy boss, the steam billowed around him in clouds and hid her view of certain interesting areas of his anatomy.
When he moved to step out of the shower, Kat realized the point of her very useless deadly instrument was dangerously close to his face. He realized it too, but instead of backing away, he came at her.
Lukas jumped out of the steam, one large hand closing over her wrist, tightening until she gasped and dropped the sword. It hit the tiles with a harsh clatter, and she winced, wondering if her pay would soon be docked for damage.
That was when it hit her. She was standing in Lukas's bathroom, staring at his body.
And all Lukas wore was a towel.
18. LUKAS
IT MUST BE A DREAM, he thought.
He was tired from the long drive to the Klamath Mountains to see Marek. He'd left yesterday after he'd spoken to Kat and spent the night at the cabin, roaming the forest and allowing his bear some freedom.
He'd given Marek the news from the lab and empathized at the look on his cousin's face. The Legion had moved their efforts from abduction to assassination, so they'd decided to have Delta Corps actively seek to 'acquire' a member of the Legion for interrogation. They had to know what the fucking Legion wanted.
Lukas had left after breakfast for another long drive and had headed straight into the shower. Maybe he was too tired, and was seeing things.
So it must be a dream.
Lukas blinked and stared at the vision before him. Clouds of steam billowed within the bathroom, and Kat emerged from it, aiming the blunt point of his Japanese sword at his eye.
Fuck. The woman would have put his eye out if he hadn't gotten the blade away from her.
His fingers still remained encircled tightly around her slim wrist, and she was staring up at him, her face white with what he assumed was shock.
She damned well deserved to be shocked, accosting him like this in his own damned bathroom. He was naked, for God's sake.
"What are you doing here?" he growled, the timbre of his voice showing his bear's frustration.
Her eyelids fluttered while she thought of a response, and a tremor ran through her hands. The envelope held within her fingers shook too.
"I... er..." She hesitated, licking her lips before she straightened her spine and waved the crumpled envelope in his face. "I came to leave this with you."
She fell silent and swallowed, her eyes trailing along his chest and down to his abdomen. She halted the inspection sharply and looked back up at his face.
"What was so important that you had to break into my house and threaten me with a sword?"
She let out a sharp laugh. "Firstly, that stupid sword of yours wouldn't kill a dead man. Who the hell buys blunt weapons anyway?"
Lukas laughed and took a step closer, his abdomen brushing against her. "Easier to import blunt weapons into the country. Sharp ones have a red-tape issue."
She lifted an eyebrow, as if she thought the excuse wasn't up to snuff, but she accepted it anyway.
"And secondly?"
"Huh?" she asked, her eyelids fluttering as her gaze drifted down again. Lukas was monumentally tempted to accidentally drop the towel. But he didn't.
"Your issue with my blunt sword was firstly." He lifted his own eyebrow, and she flushed red as she caught the double meaning. He had to admit that a flustered and nervous Kat was completely enticing.
She tightened her jaw and lifted her chin, the red slowly f
ading from her cheeks. "Yes, and secondly, I didn't want to inconvenience you, so I brought the contract to you. Signed, sealed, and delivered."
Lukas frowned, shifting closer just the tiniest bit. "And how would I have been inconvenienced had you not so kindly delivered the contract to me?" he murmured.
Kat cleared her throat. "You said you'd come to me. And I didn't want you to pitch up at my apartment. Carson's home, and she wouldn't take the sight of a Sarkozy very well."
The corner of Lukas's mouth lifted. "I'm not convinced that Carson would hate the entire genetic line for one man's indiscretion."
"Indiscretion?" Kat's eyes hit her hairline. "Did he cheat on her? Is that how he broke her heart?"
Lukas shook his head. How did the conversation end up turning to Marek? "No. He didn't cheat. So why don't we let their problem be their problem? Marek and his mate will work things out eventually."
"His mate?" asked Kat, her eyes wide.
Lukas inhaled harshly, caught between amusement and annoyance. "Yup. Mate. Lover. Honey. Squeeze. Cuddle-bunny..."
Kat laughed. "Okay, fine. Anyway, I need to get going." Her gaze flickered downward again, and Lukas grinned as he felt himself harden in response. Her eyes widened--she'd seen his arousal--and she took a step away. "I really should be going."
Lukas stepped between her and the door, and in response, she rounded him, swapping positions as she now stood with her back to the shower.
He closed in on her and said softly, "Maybe you should stay a while. Since you made the trip to see me."
"I didn't come to see you." She waved the contract in his face. "Here, take it so I can be on my way."
Lukas took another step closer to her, and Kat did what he wanted her to. She took two steps back and ended up just inside the shower, her bare feet slapping against the wet tiles. She glanced around her and sucked in a breath. Then her expression shifted to determined as she tried to step outside the shower. But Lukas was there, a giant wall of unmoving, very much aroused, man.
An Heiress For The Bear (Sarkozy Brothers 2) Page 5