He froze. Had Josie somehow guessed his plans? Was it possible her expressive brown eyes had seen right through his twisted, heartless soul? Hands clenched at his sides, body taut, Kasimir turned back to face her.
Josie’s eyes were shining, her expression bright as a new penny, as she leaned back against the sofa pillows. His gaze traced unwillingly over the patterns on her skin, along the curve of her full breasts beneath her T-shirt, left by the soft morning light.
“Thank you for saving my sister,” she whispered. She took a deep breath. “And me.”
Uneasiness went through him, but he shook it away from his well-armored soul. He gave her a stiff nod. “We will both benefit from this arrangement. Both of us,” he repeated stonily, squashing his conscience like a newly sprouted weed.
“But I’ll never forget it,” she said softly, looking at him with gratitude that approached hero-worship. Her brown eyes glowed, and she was far more beautiful than he’d first realized. “I don’t care what people say. You’re a good man.”
His jaw tightened. Without a word, he turned away from her. Once he reached his home office, he phoned his chief lawyer to arrange the prenuptial agreement and discuss ways to break Josie’s trust as quickly as possible. The discussion took longer than expected. When Kasimir returned to the library an hour later, he found Josie curled up fast asleep on the sofa, with a cold, untouched breakfast tray on the table beside her.
Kasimir looked down at her. She looked so young, sleeping. Had he ever been that young? She couldn’t be more than twenty-two, eleven years younger than he was, and more stupidly innocent than he’d been at that age. In spite of himself, he felt an unwelcome desire to take care of her. To protect her.
His jaw set. And so he would. For as long as she was his prisoner—that was to say, his wife.
He reached a hand out to wake her, then stopped. He looked down at the gray shadows beneath her eyes. No. Let her sleep. Their wedding could wait a few hours. She deserved a place to rest, a safe harbor. And so he would be for her….
Carefully, he picked her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. He carried her upstairs to the guest room. Without turning on the light, he set her gently on the mattress, beside the blue silk pillows. He stepped back, looking down at her in the shadowy room.
He heard her sweetly wistful voice. I do love a good wedding cake with buttercream-frosting roses.
Kasimir had told her the truth. She would be his only wife. He never intended to have a real marriage. Or trust any human soul enough to give them the ability to stab him in the back. This would be as close as he’d ever get to holy matrimony. For the few brief weeks of the marriage, Josie Dalton would be the closest he’d ever have to a wife. To a family.
He took a deep breath. She’d make an exceptional wife for any man. She was an old-fashioned kind of woman, the kind they didn’t make anymore. From his investigator’s reports, he knew Josie was ridiculously honest and scrupulously kind. Six months ago, a different private investigator had her under surveillance in Seattle. He’d dressed as a homeless street person, which should have rendered him invisible. Not to Josie, though. “She came right up to me to ask if I was all right,” the man reported in amazement, “or if I needed anything. Then she insisted on giving me her brown-bag lunch.” He’d smiled. “Peanut butter and jelly!”
What kind of girl did that? Who had a heart that unjaded and, well—soft?
Unlike Vladimir and Bree, unlike Kasimir himself, Josie deserved to be protected. She was an innocent. She’d done nothing to earn the well-deserved revenge he planned for the other two.
Even though it would still hurt her.
He felt another spasm beneath his solar plexus.
Guilt, he realized in shock. He hadn’t felt that emotion for a long time. He wouldn’t let it stop him. But he’d be as gentle as he could to her.
Turning away from Josie’s sleeping form, he went back downstairs to his home office. He phoned his head secretary, and ten minutes later, he was contacted by Honolulu’s top wedding planner. Afterward, he tossed his phone onto his desk.
Swiveling his chair, he looked out the window overlooking the penthouse’s rooftop pool. Bright sunlight glimmered over the blue water, and
beyond that, he could see the city and the distant ocean melting into the blue sky.
For ten years, he’d been wearing Vladimir down, fighting his company tooth and claw with his own, getting his attention the only way he knew how—by making him pay with tiny stings, death by a thousand cuts.
But getting Bree Dalton to betray Vladimir would be the deepest cut of all. The fatal one.
Rising to his feet, Kasimir stood in front of the window, hands tucked behind his back as he gazed out unseeingly towards the Pacific. He’d give his lawyer a few weeks to transfer possession of Josie’s land back to his control. By then, once the two little lovebirds were enmeshed in each other, Kasimir would blackmail Bree into stealing his brother’s company away.
He narrowed his eyes. Bree would crush Vladimir’s heart beneath her boot, and his brother would finally know what it felt like to have someone else change his life, against his will, when Bree betrayed him.
She’d have no choice. Kasimir had all the ammunition he needed to make Bree Dalton do exactly as he wanted. A cold smile crossed his lips.
He had her sister.
CHAPTER TWO
JOSIE’S EYELIDS FLUTTERED, then flew open as she sat up with a sharp intake of breath.
She was still fully dressed. She’d been sleeping on an enormous bed, in a strange bedroom. The masculine, dark-floored bedroom was flooded with golden light from the windows.