“Just call me by my first name.”
She hesitated... “Um, I’d rather not, actually. It just feels a little too personal right now. With you being so irritated...”
“I’m not irritated,” he bit out.
“Your Highness...”
“Kasimir,” he ordered.
She swallowed, looking away. But he waited. Taking a deep breath, she finally turned back to face him and whispered, “Kasimir.”
Just his name on her lips felt very erotic, the K hard against her teeth, the A parting her lips, the S vibrating, sibilant against her skin as the M-I-R ended on her lips like a kiss.
He looked at her in the Hawaiian sunlight.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Like that.”
She swallowed, feeling out of her depth, drowning. “I like your name,” she blurted out nervously. “It’s an old Slavic name, isn’t it? A warrior’s name. ‘Destroyer of the Peace.’” She was chattering, something she often did when she was nervous. “Very different from the meaning of your brother’s...” Uh-oh. That topic wouldn’t end well. She closed her mouth with a snap. “Sorry,” she said weakly. “Never mind.”
“Fascinating.” His body was very still on the other side of the table, his voice cold again. “Go on. Tell me more.”
She shrugged. “I’ve worked as a housekeeper for hotels for years, since I turned eighteen, and I listen to audio books from the library while I clean. It’s amazing what you can learn,” she mumbled. She gave him a bright smile. “Like about...um...botany, for instance. Did you know that there are only three types of orchid native to Hawaii? Everyone always thinks tons of orchids grow here in the rain forest, while the truth is that another place I once lived, Nevada, which is nothing but dry desert, has twelve different wild orchids in two distinct varieties. There was this, um, flower that...”
But Kasimir hadn’t moved. He sat across from her beneath the hot Hawaiian sunshine, his arms folded as the water’s reflection from the pool left patterns of light on his black suit. “You were telling me about the meaning of my brother’s name.”
She gulped. There was no help for it. “Vladimir. Well. Some people think it means ‘He on the Side of Peace,’ but most of the etymology seems to indicate the root mir is older still, from the Gothic, meaning ‘Great in His Power.’ And Vladimir is...” She hesitated.
Kasimir’s eyes were hard now. She took a deep breath.
“‘The Master of All,’” she whispered.
Hands clenched at his sides, Kasimir rose to his feet. Frightened by the fierce look in his eyes, she involuntarily shrank back in her chair. His hands abruptly relaxed.
“My brother is not all-powerful,” he said simply. “And he will know it. Very soon.”
“Wait.” As he started to turn away, she jumped to her feet, grabbing his arm. “I’m sorry. I’m so stupid, always letting my mouth get ahead of my brain. My sister always says I need to be more careful.”
“I’m not offended.” Looking down at her, he gave her a smile that didn’t quite meet his blue eyes. “You shouldn’t listen to your sister. I respect a woman who speaks the truth without fear far more than one who uses silence to cover her lies.”
“But I told you—she’s not like that. Not anymore.” With a weak laugh, she looked away. “If she were, we’d be rich right now, instead of poor. But she gave up gambling and con games to give me an honest, respectable life. And just look at the trouble I’ve caused her.” She looked down at the floor. “I gambled at that poker game, and she had to sacrifice herself for me. Again.”
He touched her cheek, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Josie.” His eyes were deep and dark as a winter storm on a midnight sea. “The choice she made to sacrifice herself to my brother was not your fault. It was never your fault.”
“Not my fault?” she repeated as, involuntarily, her eyes fell to his sensual lips. He seemed to lean towards her, and her own lips tingled, sizzling down her nerve endings with a strange, intense need. Somewhere in her rational mind, she heard a warning that she couldn’t quite hear; her brain had lost all power over her body. Her traitorous heart went thump, thump in her chest. Still staring at his cruelly sensual mouth, she whispered, “How can you say it’s not my fault?”
“Because I know your sister. And I know you.” Cupping her face, he tilted her head back. “And other than my mother, who died long ago, I think perhaps you are the only truly decent woman I’ve known. And not just decent,” he said softly. “But incredibly beautiful.”
Josie’s mouth fell open as she looked up. Her? Beautiful?
Was he—cripes—was it possible he was flirting with her?
Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself savagely. He’s being courteous. Nothing more. She had no experience with men, but she did know one thing: a devastatingly handsome billionaire prince would have no reason to flirt with a girl like her. But still, she felt giddy as she looked up at him, mesmerized by his blue eyes, which seemed so warm now, warm as a June afternoon, warm as one of the brief summers of her childhood in Alaska.
“Don’t do that,” he said.
“Don’t what?”
“Look at me like that,” he said softly.
She swallowed, lifting her gaze to his. “Then don’t tell me I’m beautiful. It’s...it’s not something I’ve ever heard before.”
“Then all the other men in the world are fools.” His blue eyes burned through her. “Our marriage will be short, but for the brief time you are mine...” He put his hand over hers. “I am not going to stop telling you that you’re beautiful. Because it’s true.” His lips curved up at the corners as he said softly, “And didn’t I just say that one should always speak the truth?”
Stop, Josie ordered her trembling heart as she looked up at his handsome face. There would be no schoolgirl crushes on her soon-to-be husband! Absolutely none!
But it was too late. The deed was done.
“Are you ready?”
“Ready?” she breathed.
He smiled, as if he could see the sudden brutal conquest of her innocent heart. “To marry me.”
“Oh. Right.” She bit her lip. “Um, yeah. Sure.”
Pulling her into the foyer, he took a bouquet of white flowers out of a waiting white box. He placed a bridal bouquet in her hand. “For you, my bride.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, fighting back tears as she pressed her face amid the sweetly scented flowers.
He scowled. “Don’t you dare tell me no man has ever given you flowers before.”
She hesitated. “Well...”
“You’re killing me,” he groaned. “The men you know must be idiots.”
She gave him a wan smile. “Well, I don’t really know any men. So it would be unreasonable to expect them to buy me flowers.”
“You don’t know any men?” He stared at her incredulously. “But you’re so friendly. So chatty.”
“I don’t talk to cute ones. I’m too nervous. Besides—” she gave her best attempt at a casual shrug “—Bree won’t let me date. She’s afraid I’ll get hurt.”
His lips parted. “You’ve never been on a date?”
She shook her head. “I did have a sort of boyfriend once,” she added hastily. “In high school. We met in chemistry class. He was...nice.”
“Nice,” he snorted. “With your rose-colored glasses, he probably had a mohawk, a spiked dog collar and a propensity for stealing,” he muttered.
“That’s not fair,” she protested. “After all, I think you’re nice. And you’re not a thief.”
Looking uncomfortable, Kasimir cleared his throat. “Go on.”
“We went out a few times for ice cream. Studied together at the library. Then he asked me to prom. I was so excited. Bree helped me fix up a thrift-shop dress, and I felt like Cinderella.” She stopped.
“What happened?” he asked, watching her.
She looked away. “He never showed up,” she whispered. “He took another girl instead, a girl he’d just met.” She lifted her gaze in a trembling smile. “But she put out. And I...didn’t.”
A low growl came from the back of Kasimir’s throat.
Clutching the bouquet of white flowers, Josie stared down at the pattern of the polished marble floor. “I just think kissing someone should be special. That you should only share yourself with someone you love.” She shuffled her pink flip-flops, echoing the sound across the high-ceilinged foyer. “I expect you think it’s stupid and old-fashioned.”
“No.” Kasimir’s voice was low. “I used to think the same.”