A Reputation For Revenge(30)
“Sir.” One of his most trusted servants, a man in a blue turban, spoke to him anxiously in Berber. He pointed. “Your woman...”
Kasimir’s lips parted as he saw Josie struggling up a nearby dune, kicking off her flimsy flip-flops, her bare feet sinking in the sand to her knees.
A sigh escaped him. He should have known that mere warnings of death wouldn’t be enough to stop Josie from trying single-handedly to rush off to save that sister of hers. Irritated, he went after her.
Catching up with her easily, he grabbed her hand and pulled her all the way to the top of the dune. Then he abruptly released her.
“Look where you are, Josie,” he raged at her. “Look!”
With an intake of breath, Josie turned in a circle, looking in every direction from the top of the dune. It was like standing in the middle of an ocean, surrounded by endless waves of sand.
“There’s a reason why I brought you here,” he said quietly. “There is nowhere for you to go.”
She went in circles for five minutes before the truth of his words sank in on her, and she collapsed in a heap on the sand. “I can’t stay here.”
Kasimir knelt on the sand beside her. Reaching out, he tucked some hair away from her face. “I’m still going to save your sister. So stop trying to run away,” he said gruffly. “Okay?”
Wiping her eyes, she sat on the sand, looking at him. “You can’t just expect me to just sit here and do nothing, and leave her fate in Vladimir’s hands. Or yours!”
“I thought you said I was a good man with a good heart.”
She hiccupped a laugh, then sniffled. “I changed my mind.”
His jaw tightened. “Your sister is in no danger. Vladimir has done nothing worse to her than making her scrub the floor of his villa.”
“How do you know?”
“His housekeeper in Hawaii was not pleased to see him treating a female guest so rudely. But Bree has always been my brother’s weakness. That is why I—” Why I arranged for them to cross paths in Hawaii, he almost said, but cut himself off. He could hardly admit that now, could he? Josie’s trust in him was on very tenuous ground already. He set his jaw. “I’ve just found out he has her at his palace in St. Petersburg, where his company is busy with a merger.”
“And he’s not—bothering her?”
His lips curved. “From what I’ve heard, her greatest suffering has involved too much shopping at luxury boutiques with his credit card.”
Josie frowned. “But Bree hates shopping,” she said uncertainly.
“Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think.” He stood up, then held out his hand. “Just as she does not truly know you.”
She put her hand into his. “What do you mean?” she said softly.
“She’s spent the last decade treating you like something fragile and helpless. You are neither.” He pulled her up against him, looking down at her. “You are reckless, Josie. Powerful. Fearless.”
“I am?” she breathed, looking up into his eyes.
“Didn’t you know?” He searched her gaze. “You risk yourself to take care of others. Constantly. In a way I cannot imagine.”
She bit her lip, looking down.
His hand tightened on hers. “No more escape attempts. I mean it. I swear to you that she is safe. Just be patient. Stay here with me. From this moment, you will be treated not as a prisoner, but as an honored guest.”
“Honored guest? You said I was more.”
“I cannot treat you as my wife,” he said huskily. “Not anymore.”
“What do you mean? Of course you...”
“I cannot make love to you.” His eyes met hers. “And since we kissed in Honolulu, it’s all I can think about.”
He heard her intake of breath.
“But I gave you my word of honor. I will not touch you. Kiss you. Make love to you for hours on end.” Kasimir’s larger hand tightened over hers. He looked down at her beautiful face, devoid of makeup. Her luminous brown eyes were the sort a man could drown in. And her lips... He shuddered. “You are safe, Josie,” he whispered. “Until the end.”
She slowly nodded. Holding her hand, he turned to lead her down the dune. They walked sure-footedly down the spine of sand, pausing to collect her discarded shoes, until they reached the encampment below. He thought about the cake he’d ordered for her, left behind in Honolulu. He’d order a wedding feast for her tonight. He would do everything he could to treat her as a princess—as a queen. That much he could do.
At the door of his tent, he glanced back to tell her how he planned to make her evening a happy one. Then he saw how her shoulders were slumped in his old black T-shirt, how the jeans he’d loaned her had unrolled at the hem, to drag against the ground. Her face was sad.