He didn’t—or he pretended not to. “What’s your name?”
Kate took a deep breath. He was certainly persistent. “I’m Katherine Morrell. If you’ll excuse me—”
“Katherine,” he repeated, his accent lending the familiar syllables an exotic edge. His eyes gleamed with some unknown emotion, and his hard mouth softened a bit. “Katerina. It’s a beautiful name.”
“Thank you. I really have to go . . .” Kate was feeling increasingly anxious to get away. He was so large, standing there in front of her. She needed some space, needed a little room to breathe. His nearness was overpowering, making her edgy and restless, leaving her craving something she knew would be bad for her.
“You have your job to do. I understand,” he said, looking vaguely amused.
And he still didn’t move out of her way. Instead, as she watched in shock, he raised one large hand and lightly brushed his knuckles down her left cheek.
Kate froze, even as a wave of heat moved through her body. His touch had been casual, but she felt branded by it, shaken to the core.
“I would like to see you again, Katerina,” he said softly. “When does your shift end tonight?”
Kate stared at him, feeling like she was losing control of the situation. “I don’t think that’s a good idea—”
“Why not?” His blue eyes narrowed, and his mouth tightened again. “Are you married?”
For a second, Kate was tempted to lie and tell him that she was. But honesty won out. “No. But I’m not interested in dating right now—”
“Who said anything about dating?”
Kate blinked. She had assumed—
He lifted his hand again, stopping her mid-thought. This time, he picked up a strand of her long brown hair, rubbing it between his fingers as though enjoying its texture.
“I don’t date, Katerina,” he murmured, his accented voice oddly mesmerizing. “But I would like to take you to bed. And I think you would like that, too.”