A Reputation For Revenge(24)
“Josie?” Kasimir was staring at her.
She realized she’d stopped in the middle of the courtyard, her mouth open. “Sorry.” Snapping her lips shut, she followed him across the courtyard to a hallway directly off the columned stone cloister.
He held a door open for her.
“This will be your room,” he murmured. She walked past him to find a large bedroom with high ceilings, sumptuously decorated, with two latticed windows, one facing the courtyard, the other the desert. “You will need something to wear while you’re here.”
“No, really,” she protested. “All I need is a washer and a dryer—”
He opened a closet door. “Too late.”
Peeking past him, she saw a huge closetful of women’s clothes, all with tags from expensive designers. She said doubtfully, “Whose are these?”
“Yours.”
“I mean, where did they come from? Were they...left here by your other, um, female guests?”
“Female guests.” His lips quirked. “Is that what you call them?”
“You know what I mean!”
“I wouldn’t come all the way to Marrakech for a one-night stand.” His smile lifted to a grin. “Why would I bother going to the trouble?”
“Yeah, why,” she muttered. Her husband could seduce any woman with a smile. He’d melted Josie into an infatuated, delusional puddle with a single careless, stolen kiss.
She scowled. “Look. I just want to know if I’m wearing clothes you bought for someone else.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “They were purchased in Marrakech for you, Josie. Specifically for you. And if you don’t believe me...” He gave her a wicked grin as he opened a drawer. “Check this out.”
Her lips parted as she looked down at all the lacy unmentionable undergarments.
“You’ll never have to go commando again,” he said smugly. His eyes met hers. “Unless you want to.”
She swallowed, then turned away as her cheeks burned. “Great... Thanks.”
“And for your information,” he said behind her, “I would never bring a female guest here.”
She didn’t meet his eyes. She was afraid he would notice how she was trembling. “I’m the first?”
“Ah,” he said softly. “But you’re more than a guest.” Reaching over, he tucked a tendril of her hair off her face. “You are my wife.”
As his fingertips stroked her skin, she felt his nearness, felt his powerful body towering over hers. Swallowing, she turned away, pretending to look through the expensive items in the closet to hide her confusion.
“Well?” he said huskily. “Do you see anything you like?”
Her heart gave an involuntary throb as she looked back at him.
“Yes,” she said in a low voice. “But nothing that’s right for me.”
His blue eyes narrowed as he frowned. “But they’re your size.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what?”
She swallowed. “Look, I appreciate the gesture, but...” She stopped herself in her tracks, then blurted out, “They’re all just too—fancy.”
He drew back, blinking in surprise. “Too fancy?”
She nodded. “I like clothes I can be comfortable in. Clothes I can work in.”
He looked at her. “But you wore that all night?”
She looked down at her tight wedding dress. “Well. I just put this back on. I slept naked.”
Kasimir swallowed. “Naked?” he said hoarsely.
“Look, I really appreciate your sweet gesture, but until I can wash my own clothes, couldn’t I just borrow some of your old jeans?” she said hopefully. “Maybe an old T-shirt?”
The shock on his handsome face was almost comical. “You’d rather wear my old ratty work clothes than Louis Vuitton or Chanel?”
Not wanting to examine too carefully the reasons for that, she just nodded.
He snorted. “You’re a very original woman, Josie Xendzov.”
Josie Xendzov. Her heart did that strange thump-thump again. “So people have always told me.”
“So what work are you planning to do around here, Princess? Dig trenches in the dirt? Change the oil in my Lamborghini?”
“You have a Lamborghini?” she said eagerly.
His lips curved. “You don’t give a damn about designer clothes, but you’re impressed by a car? You can’t even drive!”
She shrugged. “My father had a Lamborghini when I was six years old. He had it shipped up to Alaska, delivered to our house in the middle of winter. The roads were covered with snow. Impossible to drive the Lamborghini with those wide performance tires.”