“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. Josie 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?”
Damn her intuitive nature. He turned away, his shoulders tight. “Loved. A long time ago. When I was too stupid to know better.”
“You shouldn’t give up on him. You should—”
“Leave it alone,” he ground out.