Page 59 of Tempting Kat
“The hotel is fine, but there's not enough room,” I say, pushing off the column and walking toward her.
Katarina crosses her arms over her chest, her jaw set in that stubborn way that makes me want to bite it. “Not enough room? It’s a fucking five-star hotel, Conrad.”
I stop a few feet from her, close enough to catch her scent but not so close that she feels cornered. She's like a wild animal sometimes—push too hard and she bolts.
“You need space, Katarina. Real space.” I gesture to the house behind me—my fortress, my sanctuary that I've never invited anyone into before. “Here, you can have multiple rooms.”
Interest flickers across her face.
“Your own office,” I continue, watching her carefully. Her eyes widen slightly at that. Gotcha. “You need somewhere to work on your designs, right? Something better than a hotel desk.”
Her lips part slightly, and I know I've found my way in. She might not care about luxury, but she cares about her work.
“And a kitchen,” I add. “If you want something at three in the morning, you don't have to call room service. Just go downstairs and make it or grab it.”
I watch the struggle play out on her face. Her need for independence wrestling with the practical benefits I'm offering. Her fingers tap against her arm, and I know I've got her.
“Fine,” she finally says with a dramatic eye roll. “But just until my apartment is fixed.”
I nod, not bothering to hide my satisfaction. Let her think this is temporary. I'll change her mind soon enough.
Henry sets her bags down near the entrance and gives me a knowing look before nodding his goodbye. “Will there be anything else, sir?”
“No, Henry. Thank you. Take tomorrow morning off.”
As Henry drives away, I turn my attention back to Katarina. She's eyeing the house like it might bite her, and I suppress a smile.
“Come on,” I say, gesturing toward the door. “I'll show you around.”
She hesitates for just a moment before following me inside, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor of the foyer. I watch her take in the high ceilings, the artwork, and the clean lines of my home.
“Jesus,” she mutters. “This place is fucking massive.”
“It suits my needs,” I reply, leading her through the main living area. “Kitchen's through there. Living room, obviously. Guest rooms upstairs. My office is down that hall, and my bedroom is?—”
“Let me guess, the entire third floor?” she interrupts, sarcasm dripping from every word.
I smirk. “Just half of it. The rest is a gym and sauna.”
“Of course it is.” She rolls her eyes again, but I can see the curiosity in them as she takes everything in.
I lead her down a corridor, watching her reaction from the corner of my eye. She's trying so hard not to look impressed, but her widening eyes give her away.
Stopping at a closed door at the end of the hallway, I turn to face her.
“This,” I say, pushing the door open, “is for you.”
She freezes just inside the doorway, and I know I've got her. The office is exactly what she needs—what I knew she would need. Floor-to-ceiling windows along one wall, flooding the space with natural light. A massive desk made of reclaimedwood, smooth and rich with character. A high-end computer with dual monitors. Whiteboards covering another wall, empty and waiting for her ideas. Shelves filled with art supplies—pencils, markers, sketchbooks, everything an artist could want.
“What the fuck?” she whispers, taking a tentative step further into the room. Her fingers trail over the desk almost reverently. “This is...”
“I had it done how I thought you might like it,” I say, leaning against the doorframe, watching her. “But if there's something you need, and it's not here, tell me. If there's something you don’t want in here, tell me I’ll have it taken out.”
She turns to me, her green eyes wide with disbelief. “Wait, what? You had this done for me? This isn't just…how your office normally looks?”
I chuckle, watching her face as she processes what I've done. The confusion there, the struggle between being impressed and wanting to maintain her stubborn independence. It's fucking delicious.
“No, Katarina, it is not.” I push off from the doorframe and step further into the room. “While you were off running around town with Henry making me insanely jealous, I was here putting this all together.”
