With a joyful sob, she threw her arms around him.
Kasimir’s arms slowly wrapped around her as her silken negligee slid against the bare skin of his chest. Their bodies pressed together in the bed, and as he felt her soft body against his own, he became all jumbled inside, twisted up and down and turned around.
He put his hand against her cheek. “Josie...” he said hoarsely.
In the shadowy tent, beneath the covers of the bed, he could see her beautiful eyes. He could barely hear her ragged breathing over the pounding of his own heart.
Her skin felt so soft beneath his fingertips. Her arms were bare and wrapped around his naked back. Their faces were inches apart. He wanted to kiss her, hot and hard and deep. He wanted to take her and let his promises fade like mist into the night.
Using every bit of willpower he possessed, he dropped his hand. He pulled away, rolling to the farthest edge of his bed.
“Good night,” he choked out.
Silence fell. Then she said softly behind him, “Good night.”
Kasimir heard her move to the other side of the bed. He exhaled, closing his eyes. He could still see her beautiful, innocent face, her curvaceous body sheathed in diaphanous silk, shimmering like waves in the flickering light.
He listened to the wind blowing against the tent, the distant whinny of horses, the call of servants’ voices across the encampment. And he still heard Josie’s voice, sweet and innocent, filled with the trembling edge between desire and fear.
But what if I touch you? she’d asked.
Kasimir didn’t have to touch her to feel her. Lying next to her in the soft bed, with blankets warming them in the cool, arid night, there was a desert of empty space between them, but her slightest tremble was an earthquake.
In just a few weeks, once her land was his, Kasimir would trade her for what he wanted most. He would seize control of Xendzov Mining. He’d get justice against those who’d wronged him. He’d finally win.
He should be glad. Excited. His teeth should have been sharpening with anticipation.
But as he listened to Josie’s soft, even breathing, all he could think about was what he would soon lose.
He glanced over at her in the darkness. She didn’t care about vengeance or money. She wanted to give away her fortune to make her sister happy. She gave everything she had, without worrying if she’d get anything back in return. She didn’t even try to protect her heart.
Thank you, Kasimir. He remembered the joy in her voice when she’d thrown her arms around him. You are...you are...
He was a selfish bastard with a jet-black heart. He’d kissed her, kidnapped her, kept her prisoner, but she kept forgiving him, again and again.
Rolling onto his back, Kasimir stared up bleakly at the swoop of the tent’s canvas, gray with shadow.
Was there some way to keep her in his life? Some way to bind her to him so thoroughly that she’d have no choice but to forgive him the unforgivable?
* * *
Two days later, Josie stared up at him with consternation. “You have to be joking.”
“Come on,” Kasimir wheedled, holding out his hand beneath the hot afternoon sunshine. “You said you wanted to do it.”
Glancing back at the tallest sand dune, she licked her lips. “I said it looked fun in theory.”
“You know you want to.” Wind ruffled his tousled black hair as he smiled down at her. He was casually dressed, in a well-worn black T-shirt that hugged his muscular chest and large, taut biceps and low-slung jeans on his hips. He looked relaxed and younger than she’d ever seen him. He lifted a dark eyebrow wickedly. “You’re not scared, are you?”
Josie licked her lips. When he looked at her with that mischievous smile, he made her want to agree to absolutely anything.
But—this?
Furrowing her brow, she looked behind her. Three young Berber boys, around twelve or thirteen years old, were using brightly colored snowboards to careen down the sand, whooping and hollering in Berber, the primary language of the tribe, but the boys’ joyous laughter needed no translation.
Josie and Kasimir had been sitting outside the dining tent, lazily eating an early dinner of grapes, flatbread and lamb kabobs, when the boys had started their raucous race. As Josie sipped mint tea, with Kasimir drinking a glass of Moroccan rosé wine beside her, she’d said dreamily, “I wish I could do what they’re doing. Be fearless and free.”
To her dismay, Kasimir had immediately stood up, brushing sand off his jeans. “So let’s go.”
Now, he was looking at her with challenge in his eyes. “I have an extra sandboard. I’ll show you how.”
She scowled. “You know, saying something looks fun and being brave enough to actually do it, are two totally different things!”