A Reputation For Revenge(18)
“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.”#p#分页标题#e#
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.”