A Reputation For Revenge(7)

No. Kasimir hadn’t started the feud with his brother.

But he would end it.

“I’m the answer to your prayer?” a sweet, feminine voice said, sounding puzzled. “How?”

Kasimir’s eyes focused on Josie Dalton, standing in front of him in the library of his Honolulu penthouse.

Her brown eyes were large and luminous, fringed with long black lashes—but he saw the weary gray shadows beneath. Her skin was smooth and creamy—but pale, and smudged on one cheek with dust. Her mouth was full and pink—but the lower lip was chapped, as if she’d spent the last two days chewing on it in worry. Her light brown hair, which he could imagine thick and lustrous tumbling down her shoulders, was half pulled up in a disheveled ponytail.

Josie Dalton was not beautiful—no. But she was attractive in her own way, all youth and dewy innocence and overblown curves. He cut off the thought. He did not intend to let himself explore further.

He cleared his throat. “I’ve wanted our land back for a long time.” His voice was low and gravelly, even to his own ears. “I’ll make the arrangements for our wedding at once.”

“What kind of arrangements?” She bit her lip anxiously, her soft brown eyes wide. “You don’t mean a—a honeymoon?”

He looked at her sharply. She blushed. Her pink cheeks looked very charming. Who blushed anymore? “No. I don’t mean a honeymoon.”

“Good.” Her cheeks burned red as she licked her lips. “I’m glad. I mean, I know this is a marriage in name only,” she said hastily, holding up her hand. “And that’s the only reason I could agree to...”

Her voice trailed off. Looking down, he caught her staring at his lips.

She was so unguarded, so innocent, he thought in wonder. Soft, pretty. Virginal. It would be very easy to seduce her.

Fortunately, she wasn’t his type. His typical mistress was sleek and sophisticated. She lavished hours at the salon and the gym as though it was her full-time job. Véronique, in Paris. Farah, in Cairo. Oksana, in Moscow. Exotic women who knew how to seduce a man, who kept their lips red and their eyes lined with kohl, who greeted him at the door in silk lingerie and always had his favorite vodka chilled in the freezer. They welcomed him quickly into bed and spoke little, and even then, they never quite said what they meant. They were easy to slide into bed with.

And more importantly: they were very easy to leave.

Josie Dalton, on the other hand, expressed every thought—and if she forgot to say anything with words, her face said it anyway. She wore no makeup and clearly saw her hair as a chore, rather than an asset. In that baggy T-shirt and jeans, she obviously had no interest in fashion, or even in showing her figure to its best effect.

But Kasimir was glad she wasn’t trying to lure him. Because he had no intention of seducing her. It would only complicate things that didn’t need to be complicated. And it would hurt a tenderhearted young woman whom he didn’t want to hurt—at least not more than he had to.

No. He was going to treat Josie Dalton like gold.

“So what other...arrangements...are you talking about?” she said haltingly. She lifted her chin, her eyes suddenly sparkling. “Maybe a wedding cake?”

This time, he really did laugh. “You want a cake?”

“I do love a good wedding cake, with buttercream-frosting roses...” she said wistfully.

“Your wish is my command, my lady,” he said gravely.

Her expression drooped, and she shook her head with a sigh. “But I’d better not.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re on a diet.”

“Do I look like I watch my weight?” she snapped, then flushed guiltily. “Sorry. I’m a little grumpy. My flight ran out of meals before they reached my aisle, and I haven’t eaten for twelve hours. I would have bought something at the airport but I only have three dollars and thought maybe I should save it.”

Her voice trailed off. Kasimir had already turned away, crossing to the desk. He pressed the intercom button.

“Sir?”

“Send up a breakfast plate.”

“Two, Your Highness?”

“Just one. But make it full and make it quick.” He glanced back at Josie. “Anything special you’d like to eat, Miss Dalton?”

She gaped back at him, her mouth open.

He turned back to the intercom and said smoothly, “Just send everything you’ve got.”

“Of course, sir.”

Taking her unresisting hand, Kasimir led her to the soft blue sofa and sat beside her. She stared at him, apparently mesmerized, as if he’d done something truly shocking by simply ordering her some breakfast when she said she was hungry.