A Reputation For Revenge (6 page)

“But Bree—”

“If she treats you like a child, it’s because you still act like one. Mindlessly obeying her. I’m surprised she even let you get a passport,” he said sardonically. “Isn’t she afraid you might fly off to Asia and wreak havoc? Crash international stock markets in South America?”

She stared at him, wide-eyed. “How would I even do that?”

“Forget it,” he bit out, looking out the window. “It just irritates me, how you’ve allowed her to control you. I can hardly believe you’ve bought into it for so long, looking up to her as if she’s so much smarter than you, thinking that eventually, if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to earn her trust and respect—”

His voice cut off as he realized it wasn’t Josie’s sister he was talking about. Jaw tight, he glanced at her, hoping she hadn’t noticed. His usual sort of mistress, who focused only on herself, wouldn’t have registered a thing.

Josie was staring at him, her eyes wide.

“But Bree
is
smarter than me,” she said in a small voice. “And it’s okay. I don’t mind. I love her just the same.” She tilted her head. “Just as you love your brother. Don’t you?”

Damn her intuitive nature. He turned away, his shoulders tight. “Loved. A long time ago. When I was too stupid to know better.”

“You shouldn’t give up on him. You should—”

“Leave it alone,” he ground out.

“But you’ve spent the last ten years trying to destroy him—in this internecine battle—”

“Internecine?”

“Mutually destructive.”

“Ah.” His lips tugged up at the edges. “Well. Our rivalry has certainly been that. We’ve both lost millions of dollars
bidding up the same targets for acquisition, sabotaging each other, planting rumors, political backstabbing. All of which Vladimir deserves. But I can hardly expect him just to take it without fighting back. No. In fact—” he tapped his knuckles aimlessly against the side of the car “—I’d have been very disappointed if he had.”

“Oh,” Josie breathed. “Now I get it.”

Frowning, he looked at her. “Get what?”

“You’re like little boys in some kind of quarrel, wrestling and punching each other till you’re bloody. Till someone says ‘uncle.’ The reason you’re fighting him so hard… is because you miss him.”

Kasimir gave an intake of breath, staring at her. His shoulders suddenly felt uncomfortably tight. He was grateful when his phone rang. “Xendzov,” he answered sharply.

“It’s happened, Your Highness,” his investigator said. “Even sooner than you expected. Your brother has started looking for Josie.”

“Do you know why?” he bit out, extremely aware of Josie watching him anxiously in the back of the car.

“It could be at her sister’s request. Or for some reason of his own. He tracked her commercial flight from Seattle to Honolulu. It’s just a matter of time until he finds her on this island. With you.”

Kasimir’s hand tightened on his phone. “Understood.”

“Who was that?” Josie asked after he hung up. “Was it about my sister?”

His lips tightened. “Change of plan.” He turned to her. “We’ll have to skip the cake.”

“Did you find her?” she cried. “Where is she?”

“How would you like a surprise honeymoon?” he said evasively.

Josie scowled. “Why would I want that?”

Ouch. He tried to ignore the blow to his masculine pride. “You’ve never wanted to go to Paris?” he said lightly. “To stay
at the finest hotels, to have a magnificent view of the Eiffel Tower, to shop in designer boutiques, to…”

His voice trailed off when he saw Josie shaking her head fiercely. “I just want my sister—home safe. As you promised!”

Kasimir sighed, telling himself they’d have been tracked to Paris, anyway, when he was surrounded by the inevitable paparazzi. He flashed her a careless smile. “Fine. No honeymoon.”

“But do you know where Bree is?” she persisted.

“I might have a slight suspicion.” It wasn’t a lie. He knew exactly where Bree was, and he’d known since yesterday. She was at Vladimir’s beachfront villa on the other side of Oahu. Too damned close for comfort. It was a miracle that for almost a week now, Kasimir had managed to keep it quiet that he was in Honolulu.

“Is she safe?” Josie grabbed his hand anxiously. “He hasn’t—hurt her—in any way?”

Hurt
her? Kasimir snorted. His investigator had seen Vladimir kissing her on a moonswept beach last night, while Bree, wearing a bikini, had been enthusiastically kissing him back. But at Josie’s pained expression, he coughed. “She’s fine.”

“How can you know?”

“Because I know.” Rubbing his throbbing temples, Kasimir leaned forward to tell his chauffeur, “The airport.”

They’d already turned down the street of his penthouse as the driver nodded.

“Airport?” Josie breathed. “Where are we going?”

Kasimir smiled. “Let’s just say I’m glad you have your passport…”

His voice trailed off as he saw Greg Hudson pacing on the sidewalk outside his building. He’d come to demand payment in person. A snarl rose to Kasimir’s lips.
Damn his greedy hide.
If Josie saw her ex-boss, it would ruin everything. Intuitive as she was, she’d quickly figure out who’d bribed him
to hire the two Dalton girls. And why. Then, married or not, she’d likely jump straight out of Kasimir’s car, and that would be the end of his revenge.

Josie blinked. “Wait, are we back on your street?” She turned towards the chauffeur. “Could we please just stop for a moment at the penthouse, so I can pick up my bag before we go?” She glanced at Kasimir with a dimpled smile. “And I’ll grab the cake.”

The chauffeur looked at Kasimir in his rearview mirror, then said gravely, “Sorry, Princess.”

“Tell him to stop,” Josie said imploringly to Kasimir. She started to turn towards the window, her hand reaching instinctively for her door. In another two seconds, she’d see her ex-boss waiting outside the building, and Kasimir’s plans would be destroyed.

He didn’t think. He just acted. That was the reason, he told himself later, the only possible reason, for what he did next.

Throwing himself across the leather seat of the Rolls-Royce, he pulled her roughly into his arms. He heard her gasp, saw her eyes grow wide. He saw panic mingle with tremulous, innocent desire in her beautiful face. He saw the blush of roses in her pale cheeks, breathed in the sweet peaches of her hair. His hands cupped her face as he felt the softness of her skin.

And then, with a low growl from the back of his throat, Kasimir did what he’d ached to do for hours.

He kissed his wife.

J
OSIE TRULY DIDN’T
believe he was going to kiss her. Not until she felt his mouth against her own. As he lowered his head to hers, she just stared up at him in shock.

Then she felt his lips against hers, rough and hot, hard and sensual as silk. She gasped, closing her eyes as she felt the caress of his embrace like a thousand shards of light.

In the backseat of the Rolls-Royce, Kasimir pulled her more tightly against him, and she felt his power, his strength. He tilted her head back, deepening the kiss as his hands twined in her hair. Her eyes squeezed shut as she felt the hot, plundering sweep of his tongue, felt the velocity of the world spinning around her, as if they were at the center of a sandstorm. She was lost, completely lost, in sensations she’d never felt before, in his lips and tongue and body and hands. When he finally pulled away, she sagged against him, dazed beneath the force of her own surrender.

But Kasimir just sat back against the seat, glancing out the car window calmly. As if he hadn’t just changed her whole world—forever.

“Why…” she whispered, touching her tingling, bruised lips. “Why did you kiss me?”

Kasimir glanced back at her. “Oh, that?” He shrugged, then drawled, “The justice of the peace did tell me I was allowed to kiss you now.”

Her heart was pounding. She tried to understand. “You
did it to celebrate our wedding?” she said faintly. “Because you were overcome… by the moment?”

He gave a hard laugh. As the chauffeur drove the Rolls-Royce onto the highway, Kasimir looked away from her, as if he were far more interested in the shining glass buildings and palm trees and blue sky. “Exactly.” His tone was sardonic. “I was overcome.”

And she imagined she saw smug masculine satisfaction in his heavy-lidded expression.

Josie had never thought of herself as a violent person. If anything, she was the type to hide and quiver from conflict. But in this moment, she suddenly felt a spasm of anger. “Then tell me the real reason.”

He looked at her. “You were handy.”

She gasped. He hadn’t kissed her to share the sacredness of the moment, or because he was overwhelmed by sudden particular desire for Josie. Oh, no. He’d kissed her just because she was
there.

I’m heartless, Josie,
he’d told her.
You should know I’m not the good man you think.

Apparently he’d felt that words weren’t enough of a warning. He’d decided to show her, and this was exhibit A.

And for that, he’d ruthlessly stolen her first kiss away.

“It meant nothing to you?” she choked out. “You were just using me?”

“Of course I was,” he said coldly. “What else could a kiss be? You know the kind of man I am. I don’t do commitment. I don’t do hearts and flowers and sappy little poems so dear to the innocent souls of tender little virgins,” he ground out. His eyes were fierce as he glared at her. “So get that straight—once and for all.”

She stared at him, her mouth wide-open.

Then emotion tore through her, like fire through dry brush. It was an emotion she barely recognized. She’d never felt it before.

Rage.

Hot burning tears filled her eyes. Drawing back her hand, she slapped his face—hard.

The ringing sound of the blow echoed in the car. Even the chauffeur in the front seat flinched.

Blinking in shock, Kasimir instinctively put his hand to his rugged, reddened cheek as he stared down at her.

“I dreamed about my first kiss for my whole life,” she cried. “And you stole it from me. For no reason. Just to prove your stupid point!”

He narrowed his eyes. “Josie—”

“I get it. You don’t want me to fall in love with you. No worries about that!” A lump rose in her throat. “You turned a memory that should have been sacred into a mockery,” she whispered. Tears spilled over her lashes as she looked away. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

Silence fell in the backseat of the limo. She waited for him to apologize, to say he was sorry.

Instead, he said in a low voice, “Fine.”

She whirled to face him, eyes blazing. “I want your promise! Your word of honor!”

“You think I have a word of honor?” His handsome face was stark, his blue gaze oddly vulnerable as he looked down at her, his arms folded over his black vest and tie.

“Stop joking about this!” Her voice ended with a humiliating sob. “I mean it!”

Seeing her tears, he released his arms. He touched her gently on the shoulders.

“All right. I will never kiss you again,” he said in a low voice. His blue gaze burned through her like white fire. “I give you my word of honor.”

She swallowed, then wiped her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. “I don’t like being used,” she whispered. Squaring her shoulders, she looked up. “Just stick to our original
deal. A professional arrangement. You get your land. I get my sister back safe.”

“Yes.” Matching her tone, he said, “We’ll be at the airport in a few moments.”

She suddenly remembered. “My backpack—”

“I’ll have my housekeeper bring it to the airport.” Pulling out his phone, he dialed and gave his orders. After he hung up, he asked Josie quietly, “What is so important in the backpack, anyway?”

“Nothing much,” she said, looking down at her hands, now tightly folded over the white lace of her dress. “An old photo of my family. A sweater that used to belong to my mother. Before she—” Josie’s lip trembled “—died. Right after I was born.”

Silence fell.

“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “I lost my own mother when I was twenty-two. I still miss her. She was the only truly good, decent woman I’ve ever known. At least until—”

His voice cut off.

“Until?”

“Never mind,” he muttered.

Josie stared at him. Then her hand reached out for his.

Kasimir looked down at her hand. “You’re trying to make me feel better?” he said slowly. He looked up. “I thought you were ready to kill me.”

“I was—I mean, I am.” She swallowed, then whispered, “But I know how it feels to lose your parents. I know what it’s like to feel orphaned and alone. And I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.” She tried to smile. “Though I guess you’ve done all right, haven’t you? Being a billionaire prince and all.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “It’s not always what it’s cracked up to be.” He looked away. “You asked me where we’re going? I’m taking you home.”

“To Alaska?”

He snorted, then shook his head. “Not even close.” He
looked down at her tight white dress. “We’ll need to get you some new clothes.”

She followed his gaze. Sitting down, her body was squeezed by the white sheath like a sausage, pressing her full breasts halfway to her chin. Her nipples were barely tucked in for decency. She gulped, fighting the urge to cover herself with her bouquet of flowers. She cleared her throat. “I was planning to wash all my dirty clothes today. Does this place we’re going to happen to have a washer and dryer…?”

Her voice trailed off when she saw his gaze roaming from her breasts, to her hips, and back again. Her cheeks colored.

“I wish I’d never told you,” she said grumpily, folding her arms and turning away.

“Told me what?”

“About the underwear.”

Silence fell in the backseat of the car.

“Me, too,” he muttered.

Josie craned her neck to look right, left, then up. And up some more.

“Unreal,” she muttered.

Kasimir flashed her a grin. “I’m glad you like it.”

“This is your
home?
”

“No.” He smiled at her, looking sleek and shaved in a clean suit, having showered on their overnight flight. “My home is in the desert, a two-hour helicopter ride away. But this…” He shrugged. “It’s just a place to do business. I come here as little as possible. It’s a bit too… civilized.”

Too civilized?

Josie shook her head as she looked back up at the beautiful Moorish palace, two stories tall, surrounded by gently swaying palm trees and the glimmer of a blue-water pool.

It was like a honeymoon all right, she thought. If you were really, really rich.

After sleeping all night on a full-size bed in the back cabin
of Kasimir’s private jet, she’d woken up refreshed. She’d looked out the jet’s small windows to see a golden land rising beyond the sparkling blue ocean, and past that, sunlight breaking over black mountains.

“Where are we?” she’d breathed.

Kasimir had looked at her, his eyes shining. “Morocco.” His smile was warm. “My home.”

Now, they were standing in front of his palace in the desert outside Marrakech. She could see the dark crags of the Atlas Mountains in the distance, illuminated by the bright morning sun. Birds were singing as they soared across the wide desert sky. The pool glimmered darts of sunlight, like diamonds, against the deep green palm trees.

It was an oasis here. Of beauty, yes. She glanced behind her at the guardhouse beside the wrought-iron gate. But also of money and power.

“It’s beautiful.” She exhaled, then could no longer keep herself from blurting out, “So is she here?”

He looked at her blankly. “Who?”

“Bree.” She furrowed her brow. “You said she was here!”

“I never said that. I said I had a slight suspicion of where she might be.”

“Do you think she’s in Morocco?”

His lips twisted. “Unlikely.”

Josie glared at him. “Then why on earth did we come all the way here?”

“Hawaii was getting tiresome,” he said coldly. “I wanted to leave. And I told you. This is where I do business…”

“Business!” she cried. “Your only business is finding Bree!”

“Yes.” He tilted his head. “Once I have your land.”

She gasped. “You said as soon as we were married, you’d save her!”

“No.” He looked at her. “I said I’d save her
after
we got married. When I had possession of your land.”

She shook her head helplessly. “You can’t intend to wait for some stupid legal formalities…”

“Can’t I?” Kasimir said sharply. “It would be easy for you to decide, after your sister is safely home, that you’d prefer not to transfer your land to me at all. Or to suddenly insist that I pay you, say, a hundred million dollars for it.”

“A hundred million…” She couldn’t even finish the number. “For six hundred acres?”

“You know what the land means to me,” he said tightly. “You could use my feelings against me.”

“I wouldn’t!”

“I know you won’t. Because you won’t have the chance.”

“Getting the land could take months!”

“I have the best lawyers in the country working on it. I expect to have it in my possession within a few weeks.”

A few weeks? She forced herself to take a deep breath, to calm the frantic beating of her heart, so she could say reasonably, “I can’t wait that long.”

His lips pursed. “You have no choice.”

“But my sister’s in danger!” she exploded.

“Danger?” He looked at her incredulously. “If anyone’s in danger, it’s Vladimir.”

Josie frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

He blinked. “She’s always been his weakness, that’s all,” he muttered. He reached for her hand. “Come inside. I want to show you something.”

He led her through the exotic green garden towards the palace, and as they walked past the soaring Moorish arches, she looked up in amazement. The foyer was painted with intertwined flowers and vines and geometric motifs in gold leaf and bright colors. Raised Arabic calligraphy was embedded into the plaster on the walls. She’d never seen anything quite so beautiful, or so foreign.

Josie’s lips parted as, in the next room, she saw the ornamental stucco pattern of the soaring ceiling, which seemed
to drip stalactites in perfect symmetry. “Are those
muqarnas?
” she breathed.

He looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“I love architecture coffee-table books,” she said, rather defensively.

“Of course you do.” He sounded amused.

Her eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head. “It’s beautiful. Even though it’s fake.”

“Fake?” he said.

“The builder tried to make it look older, Moorish in design, but with those art-nouveau elements in the windows… I’m guessing it was built in the 1920s?”

He gave her a surprised look. “You got all that from a single coffee-table book?”

Her cheeks colored slightly. “I might have spent a few hours lingering over books at my favorite couscous restaurant.”

He grinned at her. “Well, you’re right. This was built as a hotel when Morocco was a French protectorate.” He looked at her approvingly. “There’s no way Bree is smarter than you.”

Her heart fluttered. In spite of her best efforts, she was still beaming foolishly beneath his praise as he led her past a shadowy cloistered walkway to the open courtyard at the center of the palace. The white merciless sun beat down in the blue sky, but the center courtyard garden was cool, with lush flowers and an orange tree on each corner. Soft breezes sighed through palm trees, leaving dappled shadows over the burbling stone fountain.

“Josie?” Kasimir was staring at her.

She realized she’d stopped in the middle of the courtyard, her mouth open. “Sorry.” Snapping her lips shut, she followed him across the courtyard to a hallway directly off the columned stone cloister.

He held a door open for her.

“This will be your room,” he murmured. She walked past
him to find a large bedroom with high ceilings, sumptuously decorated, with two latticed windows, one facing the courtyard, the other the desert. “You will need something to wear while you’re here.”

“No, really,” she protested. “All I need is a washer and a dryer—”

He opened a closet door. “Too late.”

Peeking past him, she saw a huge closetful of women’s clothes, all with tags from expensive designers. She said doubtfully, “Whose are these?”

“Yours.”

“I mean, where did they come from? Were they… left here by your other, um, female guests?”

“Female guests.” His lips quirked. “Is that what you call them?”

“You know what I mean!”

“I wouldn’t come all the way to Marrakech for a one-night stand.” His smile lifted to a grin. “Why would I bother going to the trouble?”