A Reputation For Revenge\The Greek Billionaire's Baby Revenge (2 page)

He looked at her. Blushing, she dropped his arm. She took a
deep breath.

“Just tell me. Do you still want to marry me?”

Kasimir’s handsome face was impassive. “I need to understand
your reason. If it’s not to be a princess...”

She gave a choked laugh. “As if I’d marry someone for a
worthless title!”

His dark eyebrow lifted. “For your information, my title isn’t
worthless. It’s an asset. You’d be surprised how many people are impressed by
it.”

“You mean you use it as a shameless marketing tool for your
business interests.”

His lips curved with amusement. “So you do understand.”

“I hope you’re not expecting me to bow.”

“I don’t want you to bow.” He looked up, his blue eyes intent.
“I just want you to marry me. Right now. Today.”

Staring at his gorgeous face, Josie’s heart stopped. “So you do
still want to marry me?”

He gave her a slow-rising smile that made his eyes crinkle. “Of
course I want to marry you. It’s all I’ve wanted.”

He was looking down at her...as if he cared.

Of course he cares,
she told
herself savagely.
He cares about getting his family’s land
back. That’s it
.

But when he looked at her like that, it was too easy to forget
that. Her heart pounded. She felt...desired.

Josie tried to convince herself she didn’t feel it. She didn’t
feel a strange tangle of tension and breathless need. She
didn’t
.

Kasimir reached out a hand to touch her cheek. “But tell me
what changed your mind.”

The warm sensuality of his fingers against her skin made her
tremble. No man had touched her so intimately. His fingertips were
calloused—clearly he was accustomed to hard work—but they were tapered,
sensitive fingers of a poet.

But Prince Kasimir Xendzov was no poet. Trembling, she looked
down at his strong wrist, at his tanned, thick forearm laced with dark hair. He
was a fighter. A warrior. He could crush her with one hand.

“Josie.”

“My sister,” she whispered, then stopped, her throat dry.

“Bree changed your mind?” Dropping his hand, he walked around
her. “I find that hard to believe.”

She took a deep breath.

“Your brother kidnapped her,” she choked out. “I want you to
save her.”

She waited for him to express shock, elation, rage,
something
. But his expression didn’t change.

“You...” He frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Wait. Vladimir
kidnapped
her?”

She bit her lip, then her shoulders slumped. “Well, I guess
technically,” she said in a small voice, “you could say she wagered herself to
him in a card game. And lost.”

His lip curled. “It was a lovers’ game. No woman would wager
herself otherwise.” His eyes narrowed. “My brother always had a weakness for
her. After ten years apart, they’re no doubt deliriously happy they’ve made up
their quarrel.”

“Are you crazy?” she cried. “Bree hates him!”

“What!”

Josie shook her head. “He
forced
her to go with him.”

His handsome face suddenly looked cheerful. “I see.”

“And it’s all my fault.” A lump rose in her throat, and she
covered her eyes. “The night after you proposed, my boss invited me to join a
private poker game. I hoped I could win enough to pay off my father’s old debts,
and I snuck out while Bree was sleeping.” She swallowed. “She never would have
let me go. She forbade me ever to gamble, plus she didn’t trust Mr. Hudson.”

“Why?”

“I think it was mostly the way he hired us from Seattle, sight
unseen, with one-way plane tickets to Hawaii. At the time, we were both too
desperate to care, but...” She sighed. “She was right. There was something kind
of...weird about it. But I didn’t listen.” She lifted her tearful gaze to his.
“Bree lost everything on the turn of a single card. Because of me.”

He looked down at her, his expression unreadable. “And you
think
I
can save her.”

“I know you can. You’re the only one powerful enough to stand
up to him. The only one on earth willing to battle with Vladimir Xendzov.
Because you hate him the most.” She took a deep breath. “Please,” she whispered.
“You can take my land. I don’t care. But if you don’t save Bree, I don’t know
how I’ll live with myself.”

Kasimir stared at her for a long moment.

“Here.” He reached for the heavy backpack on her shoulder. “Let
me take that.”

“You don’t need to—”

“You’re swaying on your feet,” he said softly. “You look as if
you haven’t slept in days. No wonder. Flying to Seattle and back...”

Without her bag weighing her down, she felt so light she almost
felt dizzy. “I told you I went to Seattle?”

He froze, then relaxed as he looked back at her. “Of course you
did,” he said smoothly. “How else would I know?”

Yes, indeed, how would he? After almost no sleep for two days,
she was starting to get confused. Rubbing her cheek with her shoulder, she
confessed, “I am a little tired. And thirsty.”

“Come with me. I’ll get you a drink.”

“Why are you being nice to me?” she blurted out, not
moving.

He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

“It always seems that the more handsome a man is, the more of a
jerk he is. And you are very, very...”

Their eyes locked, and her throat cut off. Her cheeks burned as
she muttered, “Never mind.”

He gave her a crooked grin. “Whatever your sister might have
told you about me, I’m not the devil. But I am being remiss in my manners. Let’s
get you that drink.”

Carrying her backpack over his shoulder, he turned down the
hallway. Josie watched him go, her eyes tracing the muscular shape of his back
beneath his jacket and chiseled rear end.

Then she shook her head, irritated with herself. Why did she
have to blurt out every single thought in her head? Why couldn’t she just show
discipline and quiet restraint, like Bree? Why did she have to be such a
goofball all the time, the kind of girl who’d start conversations with random
strangers on any topic from orchids to cookie recipes, then give them her bus
money?

This time wasn’t my fault,
she
thought mutinously, following him down the hall. He was far too handsome. No
woman could possibly manage sensible thinking beneath the laser-like focus of
those blue eyes!

Kasimir led her to a high-ceilinged room lined with
leather-bound books on one side, and floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the
city on the other. Tossing her backpack on a long table of polished inlaid wood,
he walked over to the wet bar on the other side of the library. “What will you
have?”

“Tap water, please,” she said faintly.

He frowned back at her. “I have sparkling mineral water. Or I
could order coffee...”

“Just water. With ice, if you want to be fancy.”

He returned with a glass.

“Thanks,” she said. She glugged down the icy, delicious
water.

He watched her. “You’re an unusual girl, Josie Dalton.”

Unusual
didn’t sound good. She
wiped her mouth. “I am?” she echoed uncertainly, lowering the glass.

“It’s refreshing to be with a woman who makes absolutely no
effort to impress me.”

She snorted. “Trying to impress you would be a waste of time. I
know a man like you would never be interested in a girl like me—not
genuinely
interested,” she mumbled.

He looked down at her, his blue eyes breathtaking.

“You’re selling yourself short,” he said softly, and Josie felt
it again—that strange flash of heat.

She swallowed. “You’re being nice, but I know there’s no point
in pretending to be something I’m not.” She sighed. “Even if I sometimes wish I
could.”

“Unusual. And honest.” Turning, he went to the wet bar and
poured himself a short glass of amber-colored liquid. He returned, then took a
slow, thoughtful sip.

“All right. I’ll get your sister back for you,” he said
abruptly.

“You will!” If there was something strange about his tone,
Josie was too weak with relief to notice. “When?”

“After we’re wed. Our marriage will last until the land in
Alaska is legally transferred to me.” He looked straight into her eyes. “And
I’ll bring her to you, and set you both free. Is that what you want?”

Isn’t that what she’d just said? “Yes,” she cried.

Setting down his drink on the polished wooden table, he held
out his hand. “Deal.”

Slowly, she reached out her hand. She felt the hot, calloused
hollow of his palm, felt his strong fingers interlace with hers. A tremble raced
through her. Swallowing, she lifted her gaze to his handsome face, to those
electric-blue eyes, and it was like staring straight at the sun.

“I hope it won’t be too painful for you,” she stammered, “being
married to me.”

His hand tightened over hers. “As you’ll be my only wife,
ever,” he said softly, “I think I’ll enjoy you a great deal.”

“Your only wife
ever?
” Her brow
furrowed. “That seems a little pessimistic of you. I mean—” she licked her lips
awkwardly “—I’m sure you’ll meet someone someday...”

Kasimir gave a low, humorless laugh.

“Josie, my sweet innocent one—” he looked at her with a smile
that didn’t reach his eyes “—you are the answer to my every prayer.”

* * *

P
rince Kasimir
Xendzov hadn’t started the feud ten years ago with his brother.

As a child, he’d idolized Vladimir. He’d been proud of his
older brother, of his loving parents, of his family, of his home. Their
great-grandfather had been one of the last great princes of Russia, before he’d
died fighting for the White Army in Siberia, after sending his beloved wife and
baby son to safety in Alaskan exile. Since then, for four generations, the
Xendzovs had lived in self-sufficient poverty on an Alaskan homestead far from
civilization. To Kasimir, it had been an enchanted winter kingdom.

But his older brother had hated the isolation and
uncertainty—growing their own vegetables, canning them for winter, hunting
rabbits for meat. He’d hated the lack of electricity and indoor plumbing. As
Kasimir had played, battling with sticks as swords and jousting against the pine
trees, Vladimir had buried his nose in business books and impatiently waited for
their twice-a-year visits to Fairbanks. “Someday, I’ll have a better life,” he’d
vowed, cursing as he scraped ice off the inside window of their shared room.
“I’ll buy clothes instead of making them. I’ll drive a Ferrari. I’ll fly around
the world and eat at fine restaurants.”

Kasimir, two years younger, had listened breathlessly. “Really,
Volodya?” But though he’d idolized his older brother, he hadn’t understood
Vladimir’s restlessness. Kasimir loved their home. He liked going hunting with
their father and listening to him read books in Russian by the wood-burning
stove at night. He liked chopping wood for their mother, feeling the roughness
of an ax handle in his hand, and having the satisfaction of seeing the pile of
wood climb steadily against the side of the log cabin. To him, the wild Alaskan
forest wasn’t isolating. It was freeing.

Home. Family. Loyalty. Those were the things Kasimir cared
about.

Right after their father died unexpectedly, Vladimir got news
he’d been accepted to the best mining college in St. Petersburg, Russia. Their
widowed mother had wept with joy, for it had been their father’s dream. But with
no money for tuition, Vladimir had put off school and gone to work at a northern
mine to save money.

Two years later, Kasimir had applied to the same college for
one reason: he felt someone had to watch his brother’s back. He didn’t expect
that he’d have the money to leave Alaska for many years, so he’d been surprised
tuition money for them both was suddenly found.

It was only later he’d discovered Vladimir had convinced their
mother to sell their family’s last precious asset, a jeweled necklace hundreds
of years old that had once belonged to their great-grandmother, to a
collector.

He’d felt betrayed, but he’d tried to forgive. He’d told
himself that Vladimir had done it for their good.

Right after college, Kasimir had wanted to return to Alaska to
take care of their mother, who’d become ill. Vladimir convinced him that they
should start their own business instead, a mining business. “It’s the only way
we’ll be sure to always have money to take care of her.” Instead, when the banks
wouldn’t loan them enough money, Vladimir had convinced their mother to sell the
six hundred and thirty-eight acres that had been in the Xendzov family for four
generations—ever since Princess Xenia Petrovna Xendzova had arrived on Alaskan
shores as a heartbroken exile, with a baby in her arms.

Kasimir had been furious. For the first time, he’d yelled at
his brother. How could Vladimir have done such a thing behind his back, when he
knew Kasimir had made a fervent deathbed promise to their father never to sell
their land for any reason?

“D
on’t be selfish,”
Vladimir said coldly. “You think Mom could do all the work of the homestead
without us?” And the money had in part paid for their mother to spend her last
days at a hospice in Fairbanks. Kasimir’s heart still twisted when he thought of
it. His eyes narrowed.

The real reason they’d lost their home had been
Vladimir’s need to secure the most promising mining rights. What mattered:
a younger brother’s honor, a mother’s home, or his need to establish their
business with good cash flow and the best equipment?

“Don’t worry,” his brother had told him carelessly. “Once we’re
rich, you can easily buy it back again.”

Kasimir set his jaw. He should have cut off all ties with his
brother then and there. Instead, after their mother died, he’d felt more bound
than ever to his brother—his only family. They strove for a year to build their
business partnership, working eighteen-hour days in harsh winter conditions.
Kasimir had been certain they’d soon earn their first big payout, and buy their
home back again.