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Viktor:Heart of Her King(8)

By:Julia Mills


Still incredibly embarrassed but also now confused, all Kat could say was, "Excuse me?"

Throwing back his head and laughing, the tall blonde man with piercing  blue eyes repeated, "It must be my lucky day." And then added, "To have  the good fortune to chat up such a fit woman before I've even had my  morning cup of tea surely means this is the luckiest day of my life."

Chuckling nervously, Kat felt her cheeks warm at the man's compliment  and knew he could see her blushing by the smirk on his ruggedly handsome  face. Quickly recovering, she decided to hide her embarrassment with  humor. It had served her well for all the years she could remember so  she went with it. "Why thank you, kind sir. I must say, I myself  might've just bumped into one of the handsomest men in England."

Laughing once again, the man bowed then said, "Why, thank you. May I ask  where you were off to in such a hurry on this bright morning?"

Kat knew he was laying it on thick but was enjoying the attention. "I  have a meeting later and wanted to have breakfast at a restaurant my  friend recommended. Since jet lag had me up before dawn, I decided to  seize the moment."                       
       
           



       

"Ah, I see. May I ask what restaurant without being too forward?"

"Balthazar," Kat responded, pointing the direction the Concierge had instructed her to go.

"Your friend has very good taste and you are right to go for breakfast.  Reservations for dinner are booked months in advance." Looking over her  head and furrowing his brow for just a moment, he commented, "We seem to  be drawing a crowd."

Before she could look to see what he was talking about, the tall  handsome stranger bent his elbow and winked. "Let me introduce myself.  I'm Bjorn Makris. May I have the pleasure of your company? It just so  happens that your destination is on my way."

Throwing caution to the wind, Kat placed her free hand on his forearm.  "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Makris. My name is Kat Romalesky. It would be  my pleasure."

The walk to the restaurant, breakfast, and the wait outside for her taxi  were fun. Bjorn had a great sense of humor and was seriously easy on  the eyes. He kept her laughing the whole time they were together by  teasing her about her accent and calling her a ‘Yank'. It was great fun  but she couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. It  all felt too easy...contrived in some way. But that didn't stop her  from accepting the business card Bjorn wrote his cell phone number on  the back of or giving him her card.

I'm taking a walk on the wild side. Yeah, whatever.

Chalking it up to nerves but still a tad uneasy, Kat was relieved when  the alarm on her phone alerted that her meeting at KI was in an hour. As  the taxi sped away from the curb, she looked over her shoulder to find  Bjorn staring after her. His neutral expression further added to her  confusion and solidified her decision not to see him again. Breakfast  had been fun but Bjorn was not her cup of tea. Besides, she was in  London on business, not to find a date.

The rest of her twenty-minute drive was filled with last minute  cramming, which was ludicrous since she knew the stupid proposal word  for word, but she still did it just to be sure. Pulling up in front of  One Churchill Place, which housed the executive offices of Katsaros  Industries, Kat stepped onto the curb, took a deep breath, stood tall,  and marched through the revolving door.

She wasn't surprised to find the lift was voice activated and even less  shocked when she asked for Viktor Katsaros and was taken to the top  floor. It fit with what little she knew of the man. What did surprise  her were the gorgeous murals of Ancient Greece that lined the foyer to  his office. They had obviously been painted by someone with an intimate  knowledge and love of the subject.

Walking toward the huge desk at the end of the hall where Clara, the  woman she knew to be Mr. Katsaros' assistant from their Skype  conversations, busily answered phones, typed, and directed people with  only a smile and a quick point of her index finger, Kat had to stop and  gape at the last painting. It was of the Temple of Poseidon at sunset at  Cape Sounion     on the bank of the Aegean Sea, and it was the single  most moving image Kat had ever seen.

With every brush stroke she could feel the cool breeze on her skin, hear  the soft lapping of the waves against the base of the rocks, smell the  salt in the air, while she imagined what Lord Byron must've felt as he  stood atop the cliffs writing another of his prose. In the picture, the  sky was awash with warm yellow and orange tones that perfectly  contrasted with the dark blue of the water as they cast their reflection  across its glass-like surface. Poseidon's Temple stood in shadow as the  sun had all but disappeared over the horizon. Lost to her daydreams,  Kat almost fell off her stilettos when she heard her given name spoken  from the accented baritone that haunted her dreams night after night.

"Katarina Romalesky, I presume?"

Hoping she'd covered her surprise well enough, she turned around with  her hand out to introduce herself...but that was as far as she got. With  one simple glance, all rational thought disappeared. Before her was the  single most magnificent man she'd ever seen. Good looking didn't come  close to describing him; his appeal went so much deeper than the mere  physical. He radiated authority and power. A raw energy that sparked and  crackled in the air around him. It was not the kind of power a person  inherits or is lucky enough to fall into. No, this was different. It was  hard fought. He'd shed blood and sweat and survived only by his sheer  resolve to never give up, to never be beaten. This man had gotten his  hands dirty. He'd fought for everything he had and was willing to fight  to keep it. Formidable was the word that came to mind-with dangerous a  very close second.

He stood at least six-foot-four. His salt and pepper hair, more pepper  than salt, lay in perfect waves that accentuated his chiseled features  and highlighted his rugged olive complexion. Eyes so dark brown Kat at  first thought they were black, stared at her with an intensity she felt  in the depths of her soul.                       
       
           



       

On any other man, his facial hair would've been described as scruffy,  but on Viktor Katsaros, it looked debonair, almost dashing, and fit the  man standing before her. His lips were upturned in a devilish grin that  Kat knew for sure she'd caused. She bit the inside of her cheeks to keep  from sighing as the thought of closing the distance between them and  kissing just the corner of his mouth floated through her mind.

Needing to look somewhere, anywhere, to break the spell he had on her,  Kat glanced over his wide shoulders and was happy to see a familiar  face. Roman Marinos was standing a few feet behind Viktor, smiling as if  he had a secret he wanted to share but couldn't...or wouldn't. It was a  relief to know she didn't have to be alone for her first encounter with  Katsaros. Kat nodded in acknowledgement to Marinos but quickly returned  her attention to Viktor. He was, after all, the man she was there to  see.

Extending the hand that had just been floating between them the few  seconds she'd spent ogling him, Kat finally introduced herself. "Yes,  sir, but you can call me Kat. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr.  Katsaros."

"Please, call me Viktor, Katarina." His exotic accent was thicker than  before and there was the tiniest lilt to his voice as he pronounced her  given name. She figured he was keeping it professional by not using her  nickname.

An electric current shot up her arm and skittered down her spine when he  clasped her outstretched hand, which was closely followed by  recognition, almost like déjà vu, that she'd never experienced with  another person. It took an extra second for Kat to get her equilibrium  back, blaming everything on her blasted dreams.

I swear I'm gonna need a shrink by the time this trip is over.

Still holding her hand, Viktor asked while nodding at the mural behind her, "Have you ever been?"

Torn between yanking her hand from his or melting into a puddle of goo  at his feet, his question finally registered in Kat's scattered mind.  "To Greece?" she asked then quickly corrected and answered, "No, never.  But it's on my bucket list."

"I see," was his only response as his once probing gaze immediately turned introspective.

Slowly releasing her hand and breaking their eye contact, Viktor turned  to the side, gesturing to Roman. "And you remember Roman?"

"I do." Kat took the opportunity to escape Viktor's magnetic orbit and  strode toward Roman, shaking his hand when she arrived at his side. "How  have you been?"