She shook her head fiercely. “I will never—”
“I’m not giving up my revenge.” His blue eyes suddenly blazed. Reaching out, he grabbed her shoulders. “Don’t you understand? You can’t make me give it up, no matter how good or kind you are, or how you look at me. I’m never going to change, so don’t even try.”
“But you can,” she choked out. A single tear spilled over her lashes. “You could be so much more….”
A flash of raw vulnerability filled his stark blue eyes as he stared down at her. “A woman like you would be a fool to care about a man like me,” he said in a low voice. “Don’t do it, Josie. Don’t.”
She stared at him with an intake of breath.
“It is growing late.” The cold mask reasserted itself on his handsome face. Abruptly releasing her, he turned towards the waiting helicopter. “Time to go.”
An ache filled her throat.
“It’s too late already,” she whispered, but he’d already turned away.
CHAPTER NINE
HAPPINESS COULD BE corrosive as acid, when you knew it wasn’t going to last.
Kasimir gripped the phone to his ear as he stared at the snowy Russian forest outside the window of the dark-walled study. Greg Hudson’s voice was grating on the other end of the line.
“So—the New Year’s Eve ball tonight? I am tired of waiting,” the man complained.
“Yes. And once you are paid,” Kasimir replied tightly, “you will never contact me again, or speak of our deal to anyone.”
“Of course, of course. I just want the money you owe me. Especially since my boss at the Hale Ka’nani found out about your bribe and fired me.”
“You are sure Vladimir and Bree are attending the ball?”
“Yes. I’ve been watching them, as you said. You owe me extra, for freezing my butt off in Russia. I could be sipping piña coladas on a beach right now.”
“Eleven o’clock.” Kasimir tossed his phone across the desk. With a deep breath, he looked back out the window. It was the first time he’d seen snow in ten years.
And a million miles from where he’d woken up that morning. In the heat of the Sahara, waking in Josie’s arms to the soft pink dawn, Kasimir had known perfect happiness for the first time in his adult life. He’d held her, listening to the soft sound of her breath as she slept. For thirty seconds, he’d known peace. He’d known joy. And the feelings were alien and terrifying….
Then he’d known that it would all soon end.
So let it end, he thought grimly. After returning to Marrakech, and a stop for the necessary travel documents, he’d taken Josie to Russia in his private jet, to this small remote dacha—a luxurious cabin in the forest outside St. Petersburg.
He’d been cold to her. He’d done what needed to be done. He was hanging on to his control by a thread. He knew what she wanted. He couldn’t give in.
He could not let himself care for Josie. He couldn’t listen to her alluring whispers about a different future. She made him feel things he did not want to feel. Uncertain. Raw. With a heart full of longing for a world that did not, could not exist.
It was time to face reality.
Tonight. New Year’s Eve. He would wait until he could speak to Bree Dalton alone, at the exclusive luxury ball at the Tsarina’s palace. He would give her his blackmail ultimatum. Now. Before Josie convinced his heart to turn completely soft.
He exhaled.
And once he’d done it… he would tell Josie the truth about who he was. The kind of man who felt nothing, who got what he wanted at any cost. For once and for all, he would wipe that look of adoration off her face. Because he would not, could not give up his plans for revenge. Or keep Josie from finding out about it. For their time together in the Sahara, he’d been happy, truly happy. But it was all about to end.
So let it end. Now. Before the corrosive happiness of caring for Josie, and knowing she’d soon leave, burned his soul straight to ash.
“Kasimir?” Her sweet voice spoke behind him. “Who were you talking to on the phone?”
He whirled around to face her in the dacha’s dark study. The decor was very masculine. But then, he’d borrowed this country house from an old acquaintance, Prince Maksim Rostov, who was spending the week of New Year’s in California with his wife, Grace, and their two young children.
Kasimir cleared his throat. He kept his voice as cold as he could. “No one that concerns you.”