Kitabı oku: «Rich Man's Revenge: Dealing Her Final Card / Seducing His Opposition / A Reputation For Revenge», sayfa 3
Two luxury vehicles waited in the dimly lit parking lot. The first was a black SUV with tinted windows. The second … Bree’s feet slowed.
“Bree!”
Hearing her sister’s panicked voice behind her, she turned around and saw the bodyguards pushing Josie into the backseat of the SUV.
Bree clenched her hands as she went forward. “Let her go!”
Vladimir grabbed her arm. “You’re coming with me.”
“I won’t be separated from her!”
He looked at her, his face hard and oh, so handsome in the moonlight. “My Lamborghini only has two seats.” When she didn’t move, he said with exaggerated patience, “They will be right behind us.”
Glancing at the SUV parked behind the Lamborghini, Bree saw her sister settled in the backseat as the bodyguards climbed in beside her. Bree ground her teeth. “Why should I trust you?”
“You have no choice.”
He reached for her hand, but she ripped it away. “Don’t touch me!”
Vladimir narrowed his eyes. “I was merely trying to be courteous. Clearly a waste.” He thrust his thumb toward the door of the bright red Lamborghini. “Get in.”
Opening the door, Bree climbed inside the car and took a deep breath of the soft leather seats’ scent. Fast cars had once been her father’s favorite indulgence, back when they’d been conning rich criminals across the West, and Black Jack had been spending money even faster than they made it. By the time her father died of lung cancer, only debts were left. But the smell of the car reminded her of the time when her father had been her hero and their mattresses had been stuffed with money—literally. Unwillingly, Bree ran her hand over the smooth leather.
“Nice car,” she said grudgingly.
With a sudden low laugh, Vladimir started the engine. “It gets me where I need to go.”
At the sound of that laugh, she sucked in her breath.
His laugh …
She’d first heard it at a party in Anchorage, when Vladimir Xendzov was just a mark, half owner of a fledgling mining company, who had come to Alaska looking to buy the land her father had left in an ironclad trust for Josie, then just twelve years old. Bree had been hoping she could distract Vladimir from the legal facts long enough to disappear with his money. Instead, when their eyes met across the room, she’d been electrified. He’d grabbed an extra flute of champagne and come toward her.
“I know who you are,” he’d said.
She’d hid the nervous flutter in her belly. “You do?”
He gave her a wicked smile. “The woman who’s coming home with me tonight.”
For an instant, she’d caught her breath. Then she’d laughed in his face. “Does that line usually work?”
He’d looked surprised, then he’d joined her laughter with his own low baritone. “Yes,” he’d said almost sheepishly. “In fact, it always does.” He’d held out his hand with a grin. “Let’s try this again. I’m Vladimir.”
Now, as his eyes met hers, his expression was like stone. He yanked hard on the wheel of the Lamborghini, pulling the car away from the curb with a squeal of tires. Bree glanced behind them, and saw her sister’s SUV was indeed following them. She exhaled.
She had to think of a way to get out of this prison sentence. She looked at the passing lights of Honolulu. The city sparkled, even in the dead of night.
Deals can always be made. Her father’s words came back to her. Just figure out what a man wants most. And find a way to give it to him—or make him think you will.
But what could a man like Vladimir possibly want, that he didn’t already have?
He was frequently in the business news—and nearly as often in the tabloids. He was the sole owner of Xendzov Mining OAO, with operations on six continents. His company was one of the leading producers of gold, platinum and diamonds around the world. He was famous for his workaholic ways, for his lavish lifestyle, and most of all for the ruthless way he crushed his competition—most spectacularly his own brother, who’d once been part-owner of the company before Vladimir had forced him out, the same day he’d abandoned Bree in Alaska. For ten years, the two brothers’ brutal, internecine battles had caused them both to lose millions of dollars, tarnishing both their reputations.
Ala Moana Boulevard was deserted as they drove away from Waikiki, heading toward downtown. Along the wide dark beach across the street, palm trees stretched up into the violet sky. They passed Ala Moana Center, which was filled with shops such as Prada, Fendi and Louis Vuitton—brands that Bree had once worn as a teenage poker player, but which as a hotel housekeeper she couldn’t remotely afford. Vladimir could probably buy out the entire mall without flinching, she thought. Just as he’d bought her.
Bree rolled down her window to breathe the warm night air. “So tell me,” she said casually. “What brings you to Honolulu?”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t.”
“What?”
“Play whatever angle you’re hoping to use against me.”
“I wasn’t …”
“I can hear the purr in your voice.” His voice was sardonic. “It’s the same one you used at the poker table, whipping the male players into a frenzy by offering your body as the prize.”
Anger rushed through her, but she took a deep breath. He was right—that wasn’t exactly her proudest moment. She looked down at her hands, clenched in her lap. “I was desperate. I had nothing else to offer.”
“You weren’t desperate when you played that last card against me. Your sister’s debt was already paid. You could have walked away.”
Tears burned the backs of her eyes. “You don’t understand. We are in debt—”
“Fascinating.” His voice dripped sarcasm.
Didn’t he have even the slightest bit of humanity, even a sliver of a flesh-and-blood heart? Her throat ached as she looked away. “I can’t believe I ever loved you.”
“Loved?” Changing gears as they sped down the boulevard, he gave a hard laugh. “It’s tacky to bring that up. Even for you.”
Ahead of them, she saw the towering cruise ships parked like floating hotels at the pier. She blinked fast, her heart aching. She wished both she and Josie were on one of those ships, headed to Japan—or anywhere away from Vladimir Xendzov. She swallowed against the razor blade in her throat. “You can’t be serious about taking me to bed.”
“The deal was made.”
“What kind of man accepts a woman’s body as a prize in a card game?”
“What kind of woman offers herself?”
She gritted her teeth and blinked fast, staring at the Aloha Tower and the cruise ships. Without warning, Vladimir suddenly veered the Lamborghini to the right.
Glancing behind them, Bree saw the SUV with her sister continuing straight down the Nimitz Highway, a different direction from the Lamborghini. She turned to him with a gasp.
“Where are you taking my sister?”
Vladimir pressed down more firmly on the gas, zooming at illegal speeds through the eerily empty streets of downtown Honolulu in the hours before dawn. “You should be more concerned about where I am taking you.”
“You can’t separate me from Josie!”
“And yet I have,” he drawled.
“Take me back!”
“Your sister has nothing to do with this,” he said coldly. “She did not wager her body.”
Bree cursed at him with the eloquence of Black Jack Dalton himself, but Vladimir only glanced at her with narrowed eyes. “You have no power over me, Bree. Not anymore.”
“No!” Desperate, she looked around for a handy police car—anything! But the road was empty, desolate in the darkest part of night before dawn. “I won’t let you do this!”
“You’ll soon learn to obey me.”
She gasped in desperate fury. Then she did the only thing she could think of to make him stop the car. Reaching between the seats, she grabbed the hand brake and yanked upwards with all her might.
Bree’s neck jerked back and tires squealed as the fast-moving car spun out of control.
As if in slow motion, she looked at Vladimir. She heard his low gasp, saw him fight the steering wheel, gripping until his knuckles were white. As the car spun in a hard circle, the colored lights of the city swirled around them, then shook in chaos when they bumped up over a curb. Bree screamed, throwing her hands in front of her face as the car plummeted toward a skyscraper of glass and steel.
The red Lamborghini abruptly pulled to a stop.
With a gulp, Bree slowly opened her eyes. When she saw how close they had come to hitting the office building, she sucked in her breath. Dazed, she reached her hand through the car’s open window toward the plate glass window, just inches away, literally close enough for her to touch. If Vladimir weren’t such a capable driver … If the car had gone a little more to the right …
They’d have crashed through the lobby of the skyscraper in an explosion of glass.
Her reckless desperation to save her sister had very nearly killed them both. Bree was afraid to look at him. She coughed, eyes watering from the cloud of dust that rose from the car’s tires. She slowly turned.
Vladimir’s silhouette was framed by a Gothic cathedral of stone and stained glass on the other side of the street. A fitting background for the dark avenging angel now glaring at her in deathly fury.
“The airport.” His breathing was still heavy, his blue eyes shooting daggers of rage. “My men are taking your sister to the airport, damn you. Do you think I would hurt her?”
Heart in her throat, Bree looked back at him. “How would I know?”
He stared at her for a long moment. “You,” he said coldly, “are the only one who’s put her at risk. You, Bree.”
As he restarted the car and drove down the curb, back onto the deserted road, a chill went down her spine.
Was he right?
She put her hand against her hot forehead. She’d spent ten years protecting her sister with all her heart, but from the moment she’d seen Vladimir, her every instinct was wrong. Every choice she made seemed to end in disaster. Maybe Josie was better off without her. “Your men will take her straight to the airport? Do you promise?”
“I promise nothing. Believe me or don’t.”
Bree’s body still shook as they drove out of downtown, eventually leaving the city behind, heading north into the green-shadowed mountains at the center of the island. As they drove through the darkly green hills of Oahu, moonlight illuminated the low-slung clouds kissing the earth. She finally looked at him.
“Josie doesn’t have any money for a plane ticket,” she said in a small voice.
“My men will escort her onto one of my private jets, and she’ll be taken back to the Mainland. A bodyguard already procured her last paycheck from the hotel. And yours, since you no longer need money.”
Bree’s mouth fell open. “I don’t need money? Are you crazy?”
“You are my possession now. I will provide you with everything I feel you require.”
“Oh,” she said in a small voice. She bit her lip. “So you mean you’ll feed me and house me? Like … like your pet?”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “A pet would imply affection. You are more like … a serf.”
“A serf?” she gasped.
“Just as my ancestors once had in Russia.” He looked at her. “For the rest of your life, you will work for me, Bree. For free. You will never be paid, or allowed to leave. Your only reason for living will be to serve me and give me pleasure.”
Bree swallowed.
“Oh,” she whispered. Good to know where she stood. Setting her jaw, she looked out at the spectacular vista of sharp hills on either side of the Pali Highway, then closed her eyes. At least Josie was free, Bree thought. At least she’d done one thing right before she disappeared forever….
Her eyes flew open. No. She sat up straight in her seat. She wasn’t going to give up so easily. She’d find a way to escape her fate. She would!
She folded her arms, glaring at him. “Where do you intend to hide me, Vladimir? Because I hardly think your shareholders would approve of slavery. Or kidnapping.”
“Kidnapping!” Vladimir spoke a low, guttural word in Russian that was almost certainly a curse. “After so many years of lies, do you even know how to tell the truth?”
“What else would you call it when you—”
“You had the money to pay your sister’s debt. You were free to leave. But you chose to gamble out of pure greed. And now you’re too much of a coward to admit you lost.” He turned to her, his blue eyes like ice in the moonlight. “I let your sister go because you’re the one I want to punish, Bree. Only you.” He gave a slow, cold smile. “And I will.”
CHAPTER THREE
VLADIMIR watched a tumult of emotions cross Bree’s beautiful face. Rage. Fury. Grief. And most of all helplessness.
It was like Christmas and his birthday all at once.
Still smiling, he turned back to the deserted, moonlit road and pushed down on the gas of the Lamborghini, causing it to give a low purr as it sped through the lush mountains of Oahu’s interior.
When he’d first seen young Josie Dalton at the poker game, getting lured in over her head by the hotel manager, he hadn’t recognized her. How could he? He’d never met the kid before. He’d just thought some idiot girl was letting herself get played.
He hadn’t liked it, so he’d tried to get her out of the game. An unusually charitable deed for a man who now prided himself on having a cold, flinty diamond instead of a heart.
Once, he’d tried to protect his younger brother. Once, he’d believed in the woman he loved. Now he despised weakness, especially in himself. But three months ago, after nearly dying in a fiery crash on the Honolulu International Raceway, he’d taken his doctor’s advice and bought a beach house on a secluded stretch of the Windward Coast, to recuperate.
He’d had no clue Bree was in Hawaii. If he’d known, he’d have gotten up from his hospital bed and walked to the airport, broken bones and all. What man in his right mind would seek out Bree Dalton? That would be like yearning for a plague or other infectious disease.
She was poison, pure and simple. A poison that tasted sweet as sugar and spicy as cinnamon, but once ingested, would destroy a man’s body from within, like acid. And that’s just what she’d done ten years ago. Her scheming, callous heart had burned Vladimir so badly that she’d sucked all the mercy from his soul.
She’d done him a favor, really. He was better off without a working heart. Being free of sympathy or emotion had helped him build a worldwide business. Helped him get rid of a business partner he no longer wanted.
Bree had betrayed him. But so had his younger brother, in revealing that deception to a newspaper reporter while their first major deal was on the line. Burned, Vladimir had ruthlessly cut his brother out of their company, buying him out for pennies. Then he’d announced his acquisition of mining rights in a newly discovered gold field in northern Siberia. A year later, at twenty-six, Vladimir was worth five hundred million dollars, while his twenty-four-year-old brother was still broke and living in the Moroccan desert.
Though Kasimir hadn’t remained penniless for long. Even living like a nomad in the Sahara, thousands of miles from the ice and snow, he’d found a way to start his own mining company, one that now rivaled Xendzov Mining OAO. Vladimir’s eyes narrowed. He’d allowed Kasimir to peck away at his business for long enough. It was time for him to destroy his brother once and for all.
But first …
Vladimir’s lips curled as he drove the Lamborghini through the hills toward the Windward Coast. He glanced at Bree out of the corner of his eye.
He’d told himself for years that his memory of her was wrong. No woman could possibly be that lovely, that enticing.
And it was true. She wasn’t. At eighteen, she’d still been a girl.
Now, at twenty-eight, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her fragility and mystery, mixed with her outward toughness, made her more seductive than ever.
And soon, he’d know her every secret. As they drove down the hills into a lush, green valley, a cold smile lifted Vladimir’s lips. He would satisfy his hot memory of her—the thirst that, no matter how many cool blondes he took to his bed, still haunted him in dreams at night. He would satiate himself with her body.
He’d be disappointed by the experience, of course. His memory had amplified her into a goddess of desire. No woman could be that extraordinary. No woman could kiss that well. No woman could set such a fire in his blood. He’d built her up.
He would enjoy cutting her down.
From the moment Vladimir had heard her sultry voice at the poker table, and seen her slender, willowy body in the tight dark jeans and black leather jacket, her hazel eyes like a deep, mysterious forest and her full pink lips like the luring temptation into heaven—or hell—his every nerve ending had become electrified in a way he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
At first he’d thought it was fate. When she’d taken him up on his final bet, he’d realized the two Dalton sisters must have been working some kind of con. It was the only explanation. He could think of no other reason for Bree Dalton, the smartest, sexiest, most ruthless con artist he’d ever met, to be working as an underpaid housekeeper in a five-star Hawaiian resort.
But now he’d teach proud, wicked Bree a lesson she’d never forget. He’d have her as his slave. Scrubbing his floors. And most of all, pleasuring him in bed. He looked at her, at the way her long blond hair glowed in the moonlight, at the fullness of her breasts trembling with each angry breath. Oh, yes.
“Your girlfriend is going to hate you for this,” she muttered.
In the distance, Vladimir could see the violet sky growing light pink over the vast dark Pacific. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
She glared at him. “Yes, you do.”
“Wouldn’t I know?”
“What about the woman whose breasts were pressed against your back throughout the poker game?”
“Oh.” He tilted his head. “You mean Heather.”
“Right. Heather. Won’t she object to this little master-slave thing with me?”
He shrugged. “I met her at the pool a few days ago. She was perhaps amusing for a moment, but …”
“But now you’re done with her, so you’re heartlessly casting her aside.” Bree’s jaw set as she turned away. “Typical.”
“Do not worry. I have no intention of casting you aside,” he assured her.
“A famous playboy like you? You’ll tire of me in bed after the first night.”
He found the hope in her voice insulting. Women did not wish to be cast out of his bed. They begged to get in. Hiding his irritation, he gave her a sensual smile. “Do not fear. If that happens, I’ll find some other way for you to serve me. Scrubbing my floors. Cleaning my house …”
Her cheeks turned a girlish shade of pink, but her voice was steady as she said, “I’d rather clean your bathroom with my toothbrush than have you touch me.”
“Perhaps I’ll have you clean my house naked,” he mused.
“Sounds like heaven,” she muttered, tossing her head.
Driving along the edge of the coast, he stroked his chin with one hand. “Perhaps I’ll allow my men to enjoy the show.”
That finally got her. Bree’s eyes went wide as her lips parted. “You …” She swallowed, looking pale. “You wouldn’t.”
Of course he wouldn’t. Vladimir had no intention of sharing his hard-won prize—or even the image of her—with anyone. He wasn’t much of a sharer, in any case. A man was stronger alone. With no gaps in his armor. With no one close enough to slow him down, or stab him in the back.
Looking away from Bree’s pale, panicked face—somehow he didn’t enjoy seeing that expression there as much as he’d thought he would—he turned the Lamborghini into the road to his ultraprivate, palatial Hawaii mansion. The guard nodded at him from the guardhouse and opened the ten-foot-tall electric gate.
“Relax, Bree.” Vladimir ground out the words, keeping his eyes on the road. “I don’t intend to share you. You’re my prize and mine alone.”
In the corner of his eye, he saw her tight shoulders relax infinitesimally. This is supposed to be her punishment, he mocked himself. Why reassure her?
But frightening her wasn’t what he wanted, he decided. He had no interest in seeing her pitiful and terrified. He wanted to conquer the real Bree—proud and sly and gloriously beautiful. He didn’t want to be tempted, even once, to feel sympathy for her.
Vladimir stopped the red car in the paved courtyard in front of his enormous beachside mansion, built on the edge of a cliff, with one story on the courtyard side, and three stories facing the ocean.
“This is yours?” she breathed.
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know you had a place on Oahu.” She bit her lip, looking up at the house. “If I’d known you were here …”
“You wouldn’t have come to Honolulu to try your con?”
“Con?” She looked genuinely shocked. “What are you talking about?”
“What do you call that poker game?”
Her big hazel eyes were wide and luminous in the moonlight.
“The worst mistake of my life,” she whispered.
Her heart-shaped face was pale, her pink lips full, her expression agonized. In spite of her tough-girl clothes, the black leather jacket and stiletto boots, she looked like a young, lost princess, trapped by an ogre with no hope of escape.
A trick, he told himself angrily. Don’t fall for it. He turned off the ignition. Grabbing her duffel bag, he got out of the car. “Come on.”
Closing the door behind him, he stalked toward the front door without looking back. He’d bought this twenty-million-dollar house three months ago, sight unseen, an hour before he was released from the hospital in Honolulu. The lavish estate on the windward side of the Oahu shore was set on the best private beach near Kailua.
He went into the sprawling beach house, and heard the sound of her stiletto boots on the patterned ohia wood floor. They passed through the large, expansive rooms. Floor-to-ceiling windows on both sides of the house revealed the Ka’iwa Mountain Ridge in one direction, and in the other, the distant pink-and-lavender dawn breaking over the Pacific and the distant Mokulua Islands.
But Vladimir was used to the view. Sick of it, in fact. He’d spent weeks cooped up like a prisoner here, as he recuperated from the car race that had nearly killed him, gritting his teeth through physical therapy. No wonder, within a month of being here, he’d started seeking amusement in Honolulu, half an hour away, at a private poker game. The fact that it was illegal to gamble at any resort in Hawaii just added to the spice.
At the end of the hall, Vladimir opened double doors into the enormous master bedroom, revealing high ceilings, an elegant marble fireplace and a huge four-poster bed. Veranda doors opened to a balcony that overlooked the infinity pool and the ocean beyond it. He dropped Bree’s duffel bag on the bed and abruptly turned to face her.
She ran straight into him.
Vladimir heard her intake of breath as, for one instant, he felt the softness of her body against his own. Electricity coursed through his veins and his heart twisted as all his blood coursed toward his groin. He looked down at her beautiful, shocked face, at her wide hazel eyes, at the way her pink lips parted, full and ripe for plunder.
Mouth parted, she jumped back as if he’d burned her.
“Give a girl some notice, will you,” she snapped, “if you’re just going to whip around like that!”
Her tone was scornful. But it was too late.
He knew.
For years, Vladimir had told himself that their passionate, innocent affair had all been one-sided—that she’d tricked him, creating a hunger and longing in him while she herself remained stone cold, focused only on the money she intended to steal from him. But just now, when he’d felt her body against his, he’d seen her face. Felt the way her body reacted. And he’d suddenly known the truth.
She felt it, too.
“You … you should …” Her voice faltered as their eyes locked. As they stood beside the four-poster bed, the brilliant sun burst over the horizon, coming through the tall east-facing windows, bathing them both in warm golden light. Everything he’d ever hungered for, everything he feared and despised, was personified in this one woman. Breanna.
Her long blond hair shimmered like diamonds and gold. Her eyes shone a vivid green, like emeralds. Her skin was pale and untouched, like plains of virgin white snow. Hardly aware of what he was doing, Vladimir reached out and stroked a gleaming tendril of her hair. It was impossibly soft.
He heard her soft intake of breath. “Please. Don’t.”
“Don’t?” He looked into her eyes. “You want me,” he said in a low voice. “Just as I want you.”
Her luscious lips fell open. Then with a scowl, she shook her head fiercely. “You’re out of your mind!”
“Don’t you recognize the truth when you see it? Or have you forgotten how?”
“The only truth is I want you to leave me alone!”
Twining his fingers through her long blond hair, he pulled back, tilting her head to expose her throat.
“Whatever your words say,” he whispered, “your lips won’t lie.”
And he ruthlessly lowered his mouth to hers.
His kiss was an overpowering force, savage enough to bruise. His grip was unyielding, like steel. Bree felt herself being crushed against his hard body.
Kiss? More like plunder. His lips were hard and rough. She felt his powerful hands on her back, felt their warmth through her leather jacket. The muscles of his hard chest crushed her breasts as he wrapped his arms tighter around her. He pushed her lips wider apart with his own, taking full possession of her mouth.
The tip of his tongue touched hers, and it was like two currents of electricity joining in a burst of light. Against her will, repressed desire exploded inside her, and need sizzled down her body like fire.
Her hands somehow stopped pushing against his chest, and lifted to wrap around his neck. It had been so long since she’d been touched by anyone, and he was the only man who’d ever kissed her. The only one she’d ever wanted. The man she’d loved with all her heart, the man who’d brought her to life and made her new.
Vladimir. As he kissed her, she sighed softly against his mouth. For ten long years, she’d dreamed of him every aching night. And now, at last, her dream was real. She was in his arms, he was kissing her….
But he’d never kissed her like this before. There was nothing loving about this embrace. It was scornful. Angry.
One of his legs pushed her thighs apart. His hands moved up to entwine his fingers in her hair, yanking her head back.
“No,” she whimpered, feeling dizzy as she wrenched away. She put an unsteady hand to her forehead. “No.”
Vladimir stared down at her. His gaze seemed almost bewildered. She heard the hard rasp of his breath, and realized that he, too, had been surprised. Then his face hardened.
“Why should I not kiss you?” He walked slowly around her, running one hand up her arm and the side of her neck. “You belong to me now, kroshka.”
Kroshka? She didn’t know what it meant, but it didn’t sound very nice.
Stopping in front of her, he cupped her chin. He handled her carelessly, possessively, as a man might handle any valuable possession—a rifle, a jewel, a horse. Insolently, he traced his hand down her bare neck. “I intend to take full possession of my prize.” His hand slid over her black T-shirt to the hollow between her breasts. “Soon you will be spread across my bed. Aching for me.” His hand continued to slide down her waist. Gripping her hip, he suddenly pulled her hard against his body. “Your only reason to exist now is to serve me.”
Shaking, she tried to toss her head. Tried to defy him. Instead, her voice trembled as she asked, “What are you going to do to me?”
“Whatever I please.” He moved his hand up her body, cupping her breast over the T-shirt, tweaking her aching nipple with his thumb. As she gasped, he smiled. “But you will please me, Bree. Have no doubt about that.”
She wanted to beg him to let her go. But she knew it would do no good. Vladimir’s handsome, chiseled face was hard as granite. There was no mercy in it. But she couldn’t stop herself from choking out, “Please don’t do this.”
“My touch wasn’t always so distasteful to you,” he said softly. He ran his hands down her shoulders, pulling off her black leather jacket and dropping it to the marble bedroom floor. “Once, you shuddered beneath me. You wanted me so badly you wept.”
Bree swallowed. She’d once been sure of only two things on earth: that Vladimir Xendzov was the last honorable man in this selfish, cynical world. And that he loved her.
“Ya tebya lyublyu,” he’d whispered. I love you, Breanna. Be my wife. Be mine forever.
He’d been a different man then, a man who laughed easily, who held her tenderly, a fellow orphan who looked at her with worship in his eyes. Now, his handsome face was a lifetime harder. He was a different man, hard and rough as an unpolished diamond, his blue gaze as cold as the place that had been his frequent home for the past ten years—Siberia.
His grip on her tightened as he said huskily, “Do you not remember?”
Blinking fast, she whispered, “That was when I loved you.”
His hands grew still.
“You must think I’m a fool.” Dropping his arms, he said coldly, “I know you never loved me. You loved my money, nothing more.”
“It might have started as a con,” she said tearfully, “but it changed to something more. I’m telling you the truth. I loved—”
“Say those words again,” he exclaimed, cutting her off in a low, dangerous voice, “and you’ll regret it.”
She straightened her spine and looked at him defiantly.
“I loved you,” she cried. “With all my heart!”
“Be quiet!” With a low growl, he pushed her back violently against the bedpost. “Not another word!”
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