Viktor: Heart of Her King (5 page)

But
...it had been so damned real. So real her lips still tingled from his kisses. She could still feel the warmth of his hands as they moved over her skin. Goose bumps were still raised on her arms. It was so real she honestly did believe, at least for a moment, he was going to be there when she opened her eyes. Sadly, she was still alone.

Deciding that lying in bed and brooding wasn’t getting her anywhere, Kat threw off the covers and sat up. The minute her feet hit the plush, slate grey carpet, she wrapped the fluffy hotel robe around her and headed downstairs to find something to eat in the hopes of throwing off the remaining shadows of her dream. Kat needed to focus. Her presentation wasn’t going to pitch itself and everything had to be perfect.

Changing her mind, she grabbed the phone at the base of the steps and called room service. Kat couldn’t help but grin when the waitress’s British accent chirped through the receiver. “Good Afternoon, Miss Romalesky. This is Jasmine. How may I be of service?”

Kat was shocked by the use of her name but then remembered caller id.

Duh! I really am off my game.

“Hi. I wanted to order some tea and scones, but there are so many flavors on your menu I have no idea where to start. And to be honest I’m not even sure I like scones. It’s just something I’ve always been told you have to have when you’re in London.” She laughed before adding, “What do you suggest?”

The girl giggled, causing Kat to suspect she was probably no more than eighteen or nineteen years old. Since Kat’s first job had been slinging burgers at the Sonic Drive-In—complete with roller skates, short shorts and tube socks—she was pretty impressed that someone so young worked for such a prestigious hotel. “Well, my favorite is Yorkshire Gold with milk and sugar. Be sure to add the milk first, it gives it a richer flavor.” Jasmine spoke as if they were friends swapping secrets, which made Kat smile even more. “And if I may suggest our fresh sweet biscuits. They are just delish dunked in your tea.”

Kat chuckled at the young woman’s enthusiasm over a simple pot of tea and a snack. Teasingly, she asked, “Now, just to be sure, biscuits are cookies, right?”

Laughing out loud, Jasmine immediately caught on to Kat’s joke and quipped, “Oh, you are a sly one, Miss Romalesky.” She stopped and took a quick breath before powering on, “Yes, ma’am, they’re like your American cookies
and
chef’s special recipe. A real treat for sure. You’ll find no better anywhere.”

“Then send up a pot of your favorite and a plate of those biscuits. My mouth is already watering.”

“Yes, ma’am. And one more suggestion if I may?”

“Absolutely.”

“You can take your tea on your rooftop terrace. It gives you a lovely view of the River Thames. This time of day, you can watch the sunset. It’s truly breathtaking.”

“I will do just that. Thank you so much, Jasmine, you have been such a big help.”

“My pleasure, ma’am. James will meet you on the terrace straight away. Have a nice evening, Miss Romalesky.”

“You too, Jasmine, and thank you again for all your help.”

“My pleasure, I’m sure, ma’am.”

Kat hung up the phone and flew up the stairs. There was no way she was going out on the terrace in a robe and her underwear, not even if she was twelve stories off the ground. It just seemed untoward somehow.

Yeah, but sex dreams about a man you’ve never met that you’re going to ask to bankroll your company’s latest project isn’t unseemly at all, right, Kat?

Shaking her head and blaming all her delusions on nerves and jet lag, Kat dashed into her bedroom and threw the smaller of her two suitcases on the bed. Sliding open the zipper, she grabbed her black leggings, a long, dark green T-shirt, and her favorite black sweater that hung to her knees before she even had the case open all the way, then dressed in record time.

Throwing her hair up on top of her head in a messy bun, she pushed the button on the control panel next to her bed for the blinds and waited. The floor to ceiling slats slowly opened and Kat’s heart skipped a beat as the most spectacular view she’d ever seen was slowly revealed. Not only could she see the Thames, but also the London Eye already lighting the sky with so many twinkling lights it looked like the stars themselves were perched upon each tress and trellis of the huge Ferris wheel. As if that wasn’t already enough, the remarkable display was reflected in the calm waters of the river. It was the first postcard come to life moment Kat had ever experienced.  

Staring at the scene before her and opening the sliding glass doors, Kat’s wayward thoughts once again landed on Viktor Katsaros. What was it about the man that made him so irresistible even before she’d laid eyes on him? Why did she think of him as so much more than just a business acquaintance, especially after hearing his voice over the phone?

Thankfully, her wayward thoughts were cut short as the service elevator dinged its arrival. Turning toward the noise, she smiled at the young man whose nametag did indeed say James, just as Jasmine had said.

After thoroughly enjoying her tea and biscuits and making a mental note to leave a positive comment for Jasmine and the chef, Kat spent the rest of the evening perfecting her presentation and snacking on some of the goodies from Viktor’s gift basket. With pride that she’d avoided obsessing over the man she was to meet tomorrow and anticipation of going home with a signed contract from KI, Kat slid into bed and slept without a single dream for the first night in over three years.

The next morning, the time difference between London and her home had Kat up before the sun, something that normally would’ve been the start to a really long, really bad day, but she was energized and felt like she could take on the world. After a long, hot shower, Kat styled her hair to perfection, put on her makeup like she knew what she was doing, and dressed in her favorite black suit with a cream silk blouse underneath. It was only six a.m. when she took her last look in the mirror and declared her efforts a success.

I look pretty good, if I do say so myself...

Kat wasn’t conceited. She knew she was cute most of the time and when she worked at it some would even call her pretty. It was no secret that she’d never win any beauty contests. She was too tall, had too many curves, and loved chocolate covered almonds way too much. Not to mention the hundreds of freckles that appeared across the bridge of her nose and the apples of her cheeks every single time she was out in the sun. But none of that bothered her. Kat was a solid seven out of ten on any given day and that was just fine with her. She felt good and that gave her the extra confidence boost she needed on the most important day of her life.  

Deciding a treat was in order since she was ready early, Kat remembered a restaurant called Balthazar that Courtney, one of her college roommates who had been to London several times, had told her about. It was reported to have the best breakfast in town. Of course, Courtney had gone on and on about the fabulous Bloody Marys, but that would have to wait for another time. Showing up with alcohol on her breath was not the first impression Kat wanted to make.

Making her way down to the Concierge, Kat found out that Balthazar was less than a mile away and decided to walk. It was shaping up to be an unusually sunny London morning and fresh air was just what she needed to keep her anxiety at bay.

Kat was so absorbed in the beauty of her surroundings that she ran right into the back of a man waiting at the crosswalk. Jumping back as quickly as she could, Kat started apologizing before the man was turned all the way around.

Thankfully, the man’s murderous look changed to a smirk as Kat stuttered and stammered her way through an apology. “Oh, my God, I am...I mean I was...Are you...Oh Lordy, I am truly messing this up?”

She chuckled nervously as her unintentional victim thankfully stepped in with his amazing British accent and English charm, saving her from further humiliation. “It’s quite all right, pretty lady. It must be my lucky day.”

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.