by Jennie Lucas
She hesitated. “Well…”
“You’re killing me,” he groaned. “The men you know must be idiots.”
She gave him a wan smile. “Well, I don’t really know any men. So it would be unreasonable to expect them to buy me flowers.”
“You don’t know any men?” He stared at her incredulously. “But you’re so friendly. So chatty.”
“I don’t talk to cute ones. I’m too nervous. Besides—” she gave her best attempt at a casual shrug “—Bree won’t let me date. She’s afraid I’ll get hurt.”
His lips parted. “You’ve never been on a date?”
She shook her head. “I did have a sort of boyfriend once,” she added hastily. “In high school. We met in chemistry class. He was…nice.”
“Nice,” he snorted. “With your rose-colored glasses, he probably had a mohawk, a spiked dog collar and a propensity for stealing,” he muttered.
“That’s not fair,” she protested. “After all, I think you’re nice. And you’re not a thief.”
Looking uncomfortable, Kasimir cleared his throat. “Go on.”
“We went out a few times for ice cream. Studied together at the library. Then he asked me to prom. I was so excited. Bree helped me fix up a thrift-shop dress, and I felt like Cinderella.” She stopped.
“What happened?” he asked, watching her.
She looked away. “He never showed up,” she whispered. “He took another girl instead, a girl he’d just met.” She lifted her gaze in a trembling smile. “But she put out. And I…didn’t.”
A low growl came from the back of Kasimir’s throat.
Clutching the bouquet of white flowers, Josie stared down at the pattern of the polished marble floor. “I just think kissing someone should be special. That you should only share yourself with someone you love.” She shuffled her pink flip-flops, echoing the sound across the high-ceilinged foyer. “I expect you think it’s stupid and old-fashioned.”
“No.” Kasimir’s voice was low. “I used to think the same.”
Her jaw dropped as she looked up. “What?”
He gave a humorless smile. “Funny story for you. I was a virgin until I was twenty-two.”
“You?” Josie breathed. The fact that he’d told her something so intimate caused a shock wave through her. “The international playboy?”
He snorted. “Everyone has a first experience. Mine was Nina. She worked at a PR firm in Moscow, and we hired her to help our new business. She was far older than me—thirty. We dated for a few months. After I lost my half of Xendzov Mining, I went back to Russia to see her. I was floundering. I had some half-baked idea that I’d ask her to marry me.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Instead, I found her in bed with a fat, elderly banker.”
Josie gasped aloud.
He looked away. “I thought I was in love with her.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Virgins usually think that, their first time. But Nina just thought of me as a client. To her, sex was ‘networking.’ And when I no longer was a potentially lucrative PR account, she no longer had reason to see me.”
“Oh,” Josie whispered. Her brown eyes were luminous with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged. “She did me a favor. Taught me an important lesson.”
She swallowed, looking up at him. “But just because one woman hurt you, that’s no reason to give up on love forever.”
His lips twisted sardonically. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen me standing outside her apartment in the snow and ice, with an idiotic expression on my face.”
“But—”
“You’ll be my only wife, Josie. Because you’re temporary. And this sham marriage will be over in weeks.” Giving her a smile that didn’t meet his eyes, Kasimir held out his arm. “Come, my beautiful bride,” he said softly. “Our wedding awaits.”
* * *
An hour later, Kasimir and Josie exchanged wedding rings, speaking their vows in a simple ceremony in the office of a justice of the peace in downtown Honolulu. Kasimir couldn’t look away from the radiant beauty of his bride.
Or believe that he’d told her so much about his past. He’d told her about his first experience with love. He’d told her he’d been a virgin at twenty-two. What the hell had possessed him?
He didn’t care if she looked at him with her weepy eyes and vulnerable smile. He’d never try to comfort her again with a little piece of his soul.
From now on, he’d keep his damned mouth shut.
“And do you, Josephine Louise Dalton, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, as long as you both shall live?”
Josie turned to look at Kasimir, her soft brown eyes glowing as she whispered, “I do.”
Kasimir’s gaze traced downward, from her beautiful face to her slender neck, to those amazingly sexy curves in the tight, clinging white sheath.
And he’d keep his hands off her. His forehead burst out in a hot sweat as he repeated the rule to himself again.
He wasn’t going to seduce Josie. He wasn’t.
He had good reasons. All reasons he’d thought of before he’d seen her in this dress.
Who’d known she was hiding all those curves beneath her baggy clothes?
He’d nearly gasped the first time he saw her, when he’d been talking on the phone near his rooftop pool, tying up loose ends with Greg Hudson. The man was taking full credit for the way Bree Dalton and Vladimir had left together after the poker game, and wanted a bonus on top of the agreed-upon bribe. “I went to a lot of work,” Hudson whined. “I didn’t just hire the Dalton girls, I got them to trust me. And I managed to get your brother to leave with her. I think I deserve double.” Kasimir had been rolling his eyes when he’d looked up and seen Josie in that tight white dress. “I’ll talk to you later,” he’d said, hanging up on the man in midsentence.
But he knew the whole story now. Bree had taken Josie’s place at the poker table to try to win back her little sister’s debt. She’d succeeded, and had been walking away from the table free and clear, when Vladimir had taunted her into one last game.
It was Bree’s fault she was in Vladimir’s hands. Her own pride had been her downfall.
And it irritated Kasimir beyond measure that Josie blamed herself for her sister’s predicament. No wonder her father had established the land trust for her. She’d give undeserving people the very shirt off her back. She needed to be protected—even from her own soft heart.
Although he wouldn’t mind taking the shirt off her back. He looked at the way her full breasts plumped above her neckline, and the white lace clung tightly to her tiny waist and hips. He looked at the curvaceous turn of her bare legs all the way to her casual pink flip-flops, and realized she might need to be protected from him, as well.
Because he wanted her in his bed.
He hadn’t planned to want her, but he did. And seeing the glow of hero-worship in her big brown eyes made it even worse. It made him want her even more. She was so different from his usual type of woman. She wasn’t sarcastic or snarky or ironic. Josie actually cared.
I just think kissing someone should be special. That you should only share yourself with someone you love.
She clearly had no idea how powerful lust could be. Her first experience would hit her like a tidal wave. It would be so easy to seduce her, he thought. One kiss, one stroke. She would be totally unprepared for the fire. But she would be an apt student. He felt that in the tremble of her hand as he slid the ten-carat diamond ring on her finger. Saw it in the rosy blush on her cheeks as she placed the plain gold band on his. All he would have to do would be to kiss her, touch her, and she’d be lost in a maelstrom of pleasure she would not know how to defend herself against. She’d fall like a ripe peach into his hands.
Except he couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
Unlike anyone else he’d met for a long while, Josie was a good person with a trusting heart. It was bad enough that he’d be virtually holdi
ng her hostage over the next few weeks in order to blackmail her sister and get revenge on his brother.
Kasimir could be ruthless, yes, even cruel. But to people who deserved it. Not to a sweet, trusting, old-fashioned young woman like Josie. She deserved better.
So he wouldn’t take his wife to bed. He would control himself. No matter how difficult it might prove to be.
“I now pronounce you man and wife.” Adjusting the flower lei around his neck, the officiant looked between them. “You may now kiss the bride.”
With an intake of breath, Josie looked up at Kasimir with a tremulous smile.
He hesitated. It would be appropriate to kiss her, wouldn’t it? It would almost be weird not to kiss her.
But he feared taking even one taste of what was forbidden. Undecided, he leaned forward, torturing himself as he breathed in the scent of her hair, like summer peaches. He wanted to wrap his hands in her hair, lower his mouth to hers and plunder those pink lips, and see if they were as soft and sweet as they looked…
He couldn’t seduce her. Couldn’t.
Kasimir turned his head, giving her a brief, chaste peck on the cheek, before he drew away.
She blinked, then reached for her bouquet, giving Kasimir a small smile, as if she were tremendously relieved he hadn’t given her a proper kiss. As if she hadn’t been waiting breathlessly for one.
Neither of them were glad he hadn’t properly kissed her. Even the officiant looked bewildered as he cleared his throat. “Sign here,” he told Kasimir’s attorney, who was their witness. They posed for photographs, to make their wedding look real, and they were done.
“Get busy,” Kasimir told his attorney, handing him the marriage license and the camera. “I expect the land in Alaska to be in my name before the end of January.”
Today was December twenty-seventh. The man looked flummoxed beneath his wire-rimmed glasses. “But sir…the legal formalities of getting the trust to transfer the land to Miss Dalton, and then having her sell it to you are complicated. It could easily take three or four months….”
“You have four weeks,” he cut the man off. Plenty of time to blackmail Bree Dalton into handing over his brother’s company. And too much time of having Josie—now his wife—enticing him with her body and the latent passion in her deep brown eyes. The first man to take her might be consumed by it.
But it wouldn’t be him. Kasimir set his jaw. He wouldn’t touch her.
At all.
Even if it killed him.
“Kasimir?” Josie’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
She saw too much. “Nothing,” he said shortly.
“Do you…” She paused, biting her lip. “You don’t already regret marrying me…do you?”
“No,” he said shortly. “I just don’t want to make this marriage any harder for you than it has to be.”
She glanced down at her Chanel gown, her beautiful bouquet, her enormous diamond ring. Her pink lips curved. “Well,” she said teasingly, “this has been pretty tough to take.”
“And I saved the best for last. Your cake.”
“You didn’t!” she cried happily. “What kind?”
“Three layers, with buttercream roses. You were sleeping, so I couldn’t ask your favorite flavor. So each layer is different—white, yellow and devil’s food.”
Her eyes looked luminous. “You are so kind,” she whispered.
He frowned at her.
“Don’t you dare cry,” he ordered.
“Don’t be silly,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Of course I’m not crying.”
Kasimir cursed aloud. “How can the small kindness of cake make you weep?”
“You listened to me,” she said, giving him a watery smile. “I’m not used to anyone actually listening to me. Even Bree just talks at me, telling me what I should want.”
“No more. Remember, now you’re a princess.” He gave her a sudden cheeky grin. “Princess Josephine Xendzov.” Reaching down, he stroked her cheek as he looked into her eyes. “Princess Josie, you’re perfect.”
“Princess.” She gulped, then shook her head with a laugh. “If only the girls who teased me in high school could see me now!”
Setting his jaw, he looked down at her. “If any girls who teased you were here right now, I’d make them regret they were born.”
Looking up at him, she gave a shocked laugh.
Then she blinked fast. She gave a sudden tearful sniff.
“Don’t start that again,” he said in exasperation. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her out of the justice of the peace’s office and into the sunshine. The sky was a brilliant blue against the soaring skyscrapers of downtown Honolulu. Holding Josie’s hand, Kasimir led her to the Rolls-Royce waiting for them at the curb.
“Kiss her!” Some rowdy tourists shouted from a nearby bus, spotting him in a black suit and Josie with her white dress and bouquet, standing beside a chauffeured black Rolls-Royce.
Kasimir looked back at her. “They want me to kiss you.”
Josie looked back at him breathlessly, her eyes huge with fear. “It’s all right,” she said awkwardly. “I know you don’t want to. It’s okay.”
“Since this is my only wedding—” his hand tightened over hers as he pulled her closer “—this is my only chance to properly fulfill the traditions.”
He felt her tremble in his arms, saw her lips part as she looked up at him, ripe for plunder. And he knew it would be easy, so easy, to possess her. Not just her lips, but her body. Her heart. Her soul.
“Josie,” he said hoarsely, looking at her lips.
“Yes?”
He lifted his gaze. “You’ll remember that our marriage is in name only. You know that. Don’t you?”
Her cheeks went pale, and she dropped his hand with an awkward laugh. “Of course I know that. You think I don’t know that? I know that.”
“Good,” he said, exhaling. Now he just had to keep on reminding himself. Turning away, he opened the door of the Rolls-Royce.
“I’m know I’m not your type,” she chattered, climbing into the backseat of the car. “Of course I’m not your type.”
“No,” he growled. He climbed in beside her as his chauffeur closed the door. “You’re absolutely not.”
Her lips tugged downward, and she abruptly fell silent. But as the Rolls-Royce drew away from the curb, she turned to him suddenly in the backseat with pleading eyes. “So what is your type?”
His type. Kasimir’s jaw clenched. It was time to draw a line in the sand. To end the strange emotional connection that had leapt up between them since he’d told her about Nina. He’d never told anyone about that. But Josie had looked so sad, so vulnerable, he’d wanted to comfort her.
He’d overshot the mark. Because for the last hour she’d been looking at him as if he were some kind of damned hero just for some flowers and cake and sharing a story from his past. Enough. The way his body was fighting him now, he needed Josie to be on her guard against him. To remind them both that he was exactly what the world thought he was—a heartless playboy—he opened his mouth to tell her frankly about Véronique, Oksana and all the rest.
Taking her hand, Kasimir looked straight into her eyes.
Then he heard himself say huskily, “My usual type isn’t half as beautiful as you.”
He sucked in his breath. Why had he said that? How had it slipped past his guard? Was he picking up the habit from Josie—randomly blurting things out? He risked a glance at her.
Josie’s jaw had dropped. Her hand trembled in his own. Her eyes were shining.
He pulled his hand away. “But I’m heartless, Josie. You should know I’m not the good man you think.”
“You’re wrong,” she whispered. “I can tell—”
He turned away, clawing back his hair as he stared out the window at the passing city. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said in a low voice. “But I’m afraid I will.”
The truth was, he was starting to like the glow of admiration in her eyes. Jos
ie had a good heart. He saw that clearly. But oddly, she seemed to think he had a good heart, as well—which was an opinion that no one on earth shared, not even Kasimir himself. But some part of him didn’t want to see that glow in her eyes fade.
Although it would. Once she found out the truth about him, no amount of cake or diamonds or flowers would ever convince Josie to forgive the man who’d blackmailed her sister.
It doesn’t matter, he told himself harshly. He was glad she admired him. That delusion would keep her close. She would have no reason to try to leave. Not that she could. Turning to her, he asked abruptly, “Why did you use your passport as ID for the wedding license? Don’t you drive?”
She shook her head with a sigh. “Bree is too afraid I’ll get distracted by a sunset and crash, or forget where I parked, or maybe even give the car away to some beggar on the street. Not that we have a car,” she said wistfully. “Our clunker that we drove south from Alaska died when we crossed the Nevada border.”
“How can you not know how to drive?”
She bit her lip. “I would like to, but…”
“You are a grown woman. If you want to learn, learn. Nothing is stopping you.”
“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?”
