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 holding 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.