Dealing Her Final Card(60)
“She’s an Ovcharka. A Russian sheepdog.” Lowering his head, he kissed her softly. “Happy birthday, Breanna.”
With a little bark, the white puppy wiggled her tiny furry body with joy, warm and soft in Bree’s arms. Cuddling the dog close, she looked up at Vladimir’s smiling face, and felt a bullet pierce her throat.
She burst into tears.
“Bree, what is it?” He bent over her, his handsome face astonished and worried. “You seemed sad about the dog you’d lost long ago, so I thought... But I see I’ve made a mistake.” He clawed back his dark hair. “It was a stupid idea.”
“No,” she choked out. She tried to wipe her tears off her cheek with her shoulder. “It was a wonderful idea,” she whispered. “The best in the world.”
“Then why are you crying?” he said, bewildered.
Trying to choke back her tears, she buried her face in the dog’s soft, warm fur. “Because I love her.” Looking up, she whispered, with her heart in her throat, “And I love you.”
He grinned, clearly relieved. “What will you name her?”
Heartbreak. She stared at him for a long moment, then looked at the windows. “Snowy.”
“Snowy, huh? Did you put a lot of thought into that?” But the teasing grin slid from his face when she gave him no answering smile. He cleared his throat. “Well, I have one more surprise for you. But you’ll have to wait until dinner to get it.”
As the day wore on, Bree’s heart broke a little more with each hour. They played with the puppy, then had a delicious late lunch with champagne. Afterward, the palace staff rolled in a giant, lilac-frosted cake on a cart.
“Chocolate cake,” Vladimir said happily. “With lavender frosting.”
“Is this my big surprise?” she asked, dreading further kindness.
“No. And don’t ask me about it. You won’t get it out of me. Even if you use your feminine wiles.”
He said it as if he were rather hoping she would try. It had been two nights since they’d made love. It felt like a lifetime. The heat in his eyes made her cheeks go hot, along with the rest of her body. Trembling, she pretended not to notice.
The servants sang Happy Birthday to her in cheerful, slightly off-key English, led by Vladimir’s low, smooth baritone. He lit the two wax candles on the cake—one shaped like a 2, the other a 9.
He nudged her with his shoulder. “Make a wish.”
Leaning toward the flickering candles, Bree closed her eyes, wondering what she’d done to deserve this fresh hell. And knowing it wasn’t what she’d done, but what she was about to do.
She took a deep breath, her wish a silent prayer: I wish I didn’t have to hurt you.
She blew out the candles, and everyone applauded.
As the staff departed, after giving Bree their well wishes in a mixture of English and Russian, Vladimir took her in his arms.
“Do you want to know about your other gift?” he said softly.
She gulped. “I thought you weren’t going to tell me.”
“If you kiss me, I might change my mind.”
But she backed away. “I’m not really in a kissing mood, either,” she mumbled.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the stiffness of his posture, and felt his hurt. “Very well,” he said finally. “It is your special day. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
He paused. She didn’t move. His hands tightened at his sides.
“So I’ll just tell you what the big surprise is, shall I?” he said. “I’ve bought you a hotel. The Hale Ka’nani Resort.”
She looked up with a gasp. “What?”
“You dreamed of someday running a small hotel.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I bought you one.”
“But the Hale Ka’nani isn’t small! It must have cost millions of dollars!”
“Two hundred million, actually.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry.” His lips lifted in a smile. “I got a good deal.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“It’s an investment. In you.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Why would you do something so stupid?”
“Because...” he said softly, reaching a hand toward her cheek “...with your brilliant strategic mind, Bree, I’ve always known you were born to rule an empire.”
Trembling, fighting tears, she stumbled back from his touch.
“I need to take Snowy for a walk,” she blurted out, and, picking up the puppy, she fled to the white, snow-covered lawn outside. Once there, Bree dawdled, taking as long as she could, until her cheeks and nose felt numb from the cold and even the puppy was whimpering to go back to the warmth inside. It was past dusk when she finally returned to the conservatory, her feet heavy, her heart full of dread.