TWO HOURS LATER, Josie’s body was shaking with fear.
Her hand trembled on the gearshift. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
“I’m not making you do anything.”
She’d changed out of her tight dress, but in spite of wearing Kasimir’s old rolled-up jeans and a clean, slightly tattered black Van Halen T-shirt, she didn’t feel remotely comfortable. She’d showered, too, but that hadn’t done her much good, either. Her forehead now felt clammy with sweat. The two of them were in the enormous paved exterior courtyard of the palace. In his Lamborghini.
And for the first time since she was a child, Josie was in the driver’s seat.
“You wanted to learn how to drive,” Kasimir pointed out.
“Not in your brand-new Lamborghini!”
“Snob, huh? So it’s suddenly ‘too fancy’ for you after all?”
“You’re laughing now. You’ll be crying when I crash it straight into your pool.”
He shrugged. “I’ll buy a new one.”
“Car or pool?”
“Either. Both.”
She gaped at him. “Are you out of your mind? These things cost real money!”
“Not to me.” Reaching over, he put his hand on her denim-clad leg. She nearly jumped out of her skin before she realized he was only pressing on her knee. “Push down harder on the clutch. Yes.” He put his other hand over hers on the gearshift. “Move it like that. Yes,” he said softly as he guided her. “Exactly like that.”
Josie gulped, her heart pounding in her throat. She accelerated, then stalled. She stomped on the gas, then the brakes. She spun out, again and again, kicking up clouds of dust.
“You’re doing great,” Kasimir said for the umpteenth time, even as he was coughing from the dust. He gave her a watery smile, his face encouraging.
“How can you be so patient?” she cried, nearly beating her head against the steering wheel. “I’m terrible at this!”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he said gruffly. “It’s your first time.”
Resting her head against the steering wheel, Josie looked at him sideways. Since she’d met Kasimir, it had been her first time for lots of things. The first time she’d ever been recklessly pursued by a man who wanted to marry her. The first time she’d felt her heart pound with strange new desire. The first time she’d ever been wildly, truly infatuated with anyone.
She looked down at the huge diamon
d ring on her finger, seeing the facets flash in the light. The first time she’d fully realized the depths of her bad luck, that she was married to a handsome prince, whose secretly kind heart would unfortunately never pound that way over her.
Never ever, her brain assured her.
Not in a million years, her heart agreed.
His phone rang, and he looked down at the number. “Excuse me.”
“Sure,” she said, relieved to take a break from driving, or whatever her tire-screeching, bloodcurdling version of driving might be. She stretched in her seat, yawning.
Then she noticed how Kasimir had turned his body away from her to speak quietly into the phone. He got out of the car altogether, closing the door behind him.
Who on earth was he speaking to? Josie’s eyes narrowed. Clearly someone he didn’t want her to know about. Was it information about Bree? Or—cripes, could he be talking to another woman, making plans for a romantic getaway as soon as he was safely rid of her?
She quietly got out of the driver’s-side door.
Kasimir had turned away to speak into the phone. In a very low voice. In Russian. “My brother’s private jet left for Russia? You’re sure?” He paused. “And she’s still with him? Very well. Get out of Oahu and head for St. Petersburg. As soon as you can.”
Hanging up, Kasimir turned around. His eyes widened as he saw her standing beside him in the dust-choked driveway.