11. Nik

11

Kat seems even more confused and hurt than when I first walked into the room. She must be a very skilled actress to manage the stunt she pulled on me successfully, but I am still impressed.

"What are you talking about? I took something from you? I have no idea what you mean—" she says, stopping mid-sentence. A small gasp escapes her lips, and her big blue eyes widen.

"No." She shakes her head in horror.

"Yes," I say with a grin.

"It can't be."

"And yet, here we are." I gesture to the bed where she is restrained.

She dramatically flops back on it, closing her eyes tightly shut.

"This can't be happening to me," she says, groaning.

"I assure you, it is."

Kat lies down on the bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling and shaking her head in what I assume is denial. She suddenly repositions herself, sitting up as much as she can within the constraints of her restraints, which isn't much at all. Narrowing her eyes, she studies me with suspicion.

"Just who are you, exactly?"

I can't hold back a smirk. "Come on now, Kat. The game is over. You can drop the charade now. We both know you know who I am. Why else would you have set out to con me?"

She gasps at my casual mention of her name.

"That's right, Ms. Devereaux. You no longer have me at a disadvantage. I'm now very familiar with who you are and what you do. It was a little silly to deny me your name when you allowed me to get to know you so thoroughly, don't you think?"

The maddening woman has the nerve to shoot me an aggravated look.

"Look, Nikolai—if that's even your real name—" she says, looking down her nose at me.

My amused grin grows bigger, and I cover the distance between us, stopping next to the enormous bed. I smile at her as she glares at me.

"That's fucking precious coming from you. I am not the one who conned you. I am not the who crashed a party to commit grand larceny. I did not steal from you the most valuable diamond in the world. I do not go out of my way to seduce unsuspecting men into helping me get away with the heist of the century and maybe even murder."

"Whoa, whoa, now wait just a minute," she says. "First of all, don't flatter yourself. I did not set out to seduce you. You came onto me. Very strongly, too, if I recall correctly. You approached me. You wouldn't let me leave, though God knows I tried. I'd even go as far as to say you just wouldn't be dissuaded."

"I don't remember you putting up too much of a fight. Or any fight at all, actually," I say. "I do remember you begging me to kiss you, though. And, of course, how could I forget? I specifically recall you stripping your clothes for me and grinding on my lap moments before you couldn't stop yourself from coming around my?—"

Kat grabs one of the pillows from the bed and attempts to hit me in the face with it. The leather cuffs make her actions awkward and considerably reduce her speed, so I see the move coming from a mile away. I sidestep and grab the offending pillow, throwing it far away where she can't reach it.

"You," she says, grunting with frustration as her face blushes deep with emotion. "I may not know all I should about who you are, but I do know you are the most insufferable, overly confident asshole I have ever met."

"I may be an asshole, I'll give you that. You won't get any argument from me on that one. But overly confident? Really, Kat. You and I both know that, if anything, I'm being too modest." I wink at her. "But we are getting off track. I brought you here today for a complete different reason, as you know very well."

"And where exactly is here, Nik?"

"This is my place."

"Is that supposed to mean anything to me?"

"I'd think that a world-class con woman like yourself would have done a better job researching her mark."

Temptingly rising and lowering, her chest expands when she sighs heavily. Against my better judgment, I stare at her low-cut blouse, entranced by the sight of her breasts moving with her forced intake of breath. I force myself to look away before it is too late.

"Again, I have no idea who you are. Besides a self-righteous, arrogant prick, of course," she says.

"Cute. But save your breath, Kat. I'm not buying it at all. You know all about me."

"I gather you are very impressed with your likely underserved sense of self-importance, but I promise you I am not. I have no idea who you are. Only that you are an entitled prick, of course."

It's my turn to sigh, shaking my head.

"Honestly, Kat. Why even bother with this little game of yours at this point? I'd be more impressed if you admitted to the truth. Knowing who I am and what I do, you still set out to steal from me. True, in the end, I did catch you red-handed. But still, that took some nerve."

She rolls her eyes. "Look, I get it—you think I'm messing with you. But I have no idea who you are besides knowing your alleged first name and that you must be extremely rich to own something like the Flame of Mir. As far as anyone knows, the diamond was owned by an anonymous billionaire. All I was told when I took the job was that I had to take the jewel from The Metropolitan Museum during the opening gala for its newest exhibition. That's it."

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that you took a job so risky and high-profile as this one with that little information? And to think you called me overly confident." I scoff.

"Believe what you will. It's the truth." She shrugs.

I study her. Kat sports a deadpan expression with a hint of exhaustion. Before I can stop myself, something suspiciously similar to guilt grows in my chest. I had her drugged and abducted, and then I had her locked up and tied down.

Still, I must stay vigilant with this woman. I can't trust my instincts when she is involved, and she has proven to be untrustworthy. It doesn't matter that I can't shake the feeling that she might be telling the truth.

"Besides," she says, unprompted, "there were some special, extenuating circumstances."

I wait for Kat to continue, but she remains silent.

"Care to elaborate?" I ask.

"No, not really."

"I don't think you fully understand the seriousness of your situation, Kat."

"No, I do. I get it, trust me. The leather restraints kind of give away how seriously fucked I am. But that's all I'll say about it."

"If there is something—anything—that you can think of that would make you look better in this situation, why not tell me?"

"I have my reasons."

Brimming with frustration, I find myself sighing again. I don't know what to make of her. Or what to do with her, for that matter. I came into this room prepared to punish the woman for her crime against me, but now, looking at her, I can't imagine carrying out the tortures I planned for the little thief.

"Is your friend A.J. one of those reasons? Because I already know she had a hand in this whole thing."

She sharply turns to face me as far as the cuffs allow her. She gives me the darkest, most serious look I have ever seen on her face. That's how I know I have found her soft spot.

"Do not bring her into this, Nikolai. Whatever issues you have with me, you will leave her alone."

I could point out to her that there is nothing she can do in her current situation to stop me from going after A.J. Michaels. But somehow, I don't have the heart to threaten her beloved friend, even if emptily, while Kat stares up at me with the big, blue eyes that have completely captivated me.

"I hope I won't have cause to even think about A.J. ever again, Kat, because I'm counting on the two of us coming to an understanding."

Kat slowly eyes the bed on which she has been placed and the leather cuffs that confine her to it. All at once, she seems to become intensely aware of the fact that she has been forcefully tied to a large bed by a man who has been sexually drawn to her from the start.

"What kind of understanding?" She sounds nervous, and a little guarded.

"Not that kind of understanding, Kat. Unless you ask me very, very nicely, of course."

Kat scoffs.

"I wouldn't hold my breath, Nikolai. Or whatever your real name is."

"My name is Nikolai. I had no reason to lie to you about it. I'm Nikolai Stefanovich, as I'm sure you already know."

Kat gasps loudly, staring at me wide-eyed. She even retreats from me slightly.

"I see that my reputation precedes me."

"Nikolai, you have to believe me. I had no idea. If I had known who you were, I would have never, ever?—"

"Stolen my most valuable possession and assisted with my best friend's murder?"

"Wait, what? What the hell are you talking about? I may have taken the diamond, but I did not kill anyone. Ever. I don't even know what you are talking about."

I carefully study her reaction to my statement. She looks flushed and shocked as she refutes my accusation.

"On the night you took the diamond—the same night we first met—my oldest friend, Maxim, was murdered. You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that, would you, Kat? It is one hell of a coincidence that you pulled your stunt on the same night he was assassinated."

"I would never—you must believe me. If you have looked me up, then you know I had nothing to do with it. I'm strictly white-collar. Everyone who knows me—or knows of me—will tell you that."

I gathered as much during the past week. She is incredibly notorious as a skilled con woman and thief, but her hands are clean of blood as far as anyone knows. It isn't much of a guarantee of anything, but it's at least more than my desire to believe her.

"Say I am willing to believe you weren't involved in my friend's murder," I say. "You still have stolen something invaluable from me. Surely you understand I can't just let that go."

"Nikolai, trust me—if I could take it back, I would. I'd have never taken your diamond if I had known it belonged to you. As a rule of thumb, I try my best to avoid incurring the wrath of the bratva if it can be avoided."

"And yet, you did, Kat. Which brings us back to why we are here. For starters, I must insist you give me back the diamond."

"I would if I could. I mean it. Unfortunately, I'm afraid that's impossible. It's out of my hands."

"Well, get it back, then. That's my first requirement for our little understanding, Kat."

"Like I said, I just can't. It's not going to happen. You're going to have to pick something else." She shrugs.

"Pick something else? There's nothing else! For someone who claims not to want to incur my wrath, you're doing a hell of a good job pissing me off. Do I need to remind you I decide what happens to you?"

"No need. The fact that I'm currently tied down to a bed really drives your point home. Trust me. But it doesn't change anything. I can't give you what I don't have, and I don't have your diamond. It's truly gone, and I can't get it back."

"Why the hell not?"

"I can't contact the person who tasked me with acquiring it. I don't even know if they still have it. For all I know, they might have fenced it by now. Even if I could get a hold of them and they still had it, I couldn't convince them to give it back."

Kat's tone is very matter-of-fact, as if I should just make my peace with the fact that my rare red diamond—worth over a quarter billion dollars—is gone forever. Simply because she says so. If anyone else told me such nonsense, I would kill them just out of spite.

"Don't play games with me, Katherine."

"I'm not. I'm just being honest with you. There's no way to get it back."

"Why don't you reach out to this mysterious person to set up a meeting and let me handle the rest?"

"You are not listening. There is no ‘handling' anything. It's gone. I can't contact them, and you must accept that."

In a spurt of uncontrolled anger, I grab her by the neck with my left hand.

"Are you out of your goddamn mind? I'm not accepting anything. This isn't some trinket you shoplifted from Tiffany's, and I'm not your average fucking Joe. You will fix your mess, or I will make you regret the day you crossed my path."

Kat merely levels an unbothered look at me. "I already do. You can punish me however you see fit. It still won't change the facts. I can't get it back for you. I am sorry, but it's just not feasible."

Against my better judgment, I admire her bravery. She knows my reputation and what I am capable of, and she is entirely at my mercy. And yet, she doesn't even flinch at my sudden outburst.

Part of me can't help but wonder if that in itself isn't enough evidence that she is telling me the truth. Still, my rational side advises caution. She hasn't proven to me she can be trusted—just the opposite, actually—and I'm tragically prone to unforgivable bouts of wishful thinking when it comes to this woman.

I release her and step away, walking to the windows to collect myself. Whether it is rage or passion, I don't seem to control myself when I'm around her. I can't afford such emotional explosions right now. I must keep a cool head.

I stare blankly ahead through the glass panes as the sun slips behind the horizon. It takes me a while to feel ready to speak again. I turn to face her.

"We can revisit this issue at a later date. For now, we will move on to the next part of our understanding. You are going to help me catch Maxim's murderer."