Dealing Her Final Card (11 page)

“Tell Svenssen,” he said slowly, “we’ll find places for all his current employees. At their current pay level or better.”

His employee gaped, aghast. “But, sir! Why?”

“Yes, why?” Bree echoed. She took a deep breath and gave him a trembling smile. “Don’t tell me you’ve actually got a heart.”

His lips abruptly twisted. “To the contrary.” He turned back to Anderson. “I merely want to ensure that we’re well staffed for future expansion.”

“Expansion?” The man visibly exhaled in relief.

Vladimir lifted a dark eyebrow. “That should simplify your negotiations.” Turning to Bree, he took her hand. “I will be unavailable for the rest of the day,” he said softly.

“You will?” she breathed.

“But Prince Vladimir—”

He ignored the man. Pulling Bree from the office, he led her down the hall to the elevator. As he pushed the button, she looked at him, her heart in her throat.

“Where are we going?”

He tilted his head, giving her a boyish grin that took her breath away. “I’m going to show you my beautiful city.”

His voice was casual. So why did she feel as if something had just changed between them, changed forever? She tried not to feel his strong, protective hand over her own, tried not to feel her own heart beating wildly. “But your merger is important. You said—”

“My people will manage. Let them earn their overpriced salaries.”

“But why are you doing this?”

“I’ve realized something.” Vladimir’s eyes were ten shades of blue. “You belong to me.”

She exhaled. “I know,” she said dully. “You already said—”

“You belong to me.” He cupped her cheek. “That means it’s my job.”

“What is?”

He looked intently into her eyes, and then smiled. “To take care of you.”

* * *

Vladimir’s mouth fell open as he stared at the beautiful angel who stood on a pedestal before him. Literally.

“Do you like it?” the angel said anxiously. “Do you approve?”

Bree was trying on her fourth designer ball gown, a strapless concoction in pale blue that revealed her elegant bare shoulders, the curve of her breasts and her slender waist above wide skirts of shot silk. She looked like a princess. Ethereal. Magical.

Intoxicating.

“I can’t possibly let you buy this,” the enchanted beauty said fretfully. “You won’t let them tell me how much it costs, but I’m sure it’s very expensive.”

Vladimir lifted his hand, signaling to the five saleswomen who were hovering around them in the luxury designer atelier. “We will take it.”

With a happy gasp, the salesgirls descended on Bree with sewing pins and measuring tape, to shape the couture gown perfectly to her body. Bree looked at them in dismay. But it was nothing compared to the sick expression he’d seen on her face when his COO had wanted to fire all the workers he called “dead weight.”

Vladimir had lied. He wasn’t planning an expansion. He’d just been unable to bear the emotions he’d seen on Bree’s face: the anger, the powerlessness, the desperation. It reminded him how she’d spent ten years wasting her talents in minimum-wage jobs, because the man she’d trusted to protect her had left her to face all her enemies alone.

Now, she bit her pink, full lower lip. “I shouldn’t let you do this.”

“It’s already decided.” Rising to his feet, he felt glad once more that he’d decided to take the day off and spend it with her, leaving even the bodyguards behind. He put his hand on her shoulder. “You need a dress. I’m taking you to a very elegant ball for New Year’s Eve.”

Bree’s dark-fringed hazel eyes went wide. “You are?”

“You will be,” he said huskily, “the most beautiful woman there.”

“I—I will?”

Her cheeks blushed in girlish confusion. Her charming innocence, at such odds with the wickedly seductive vixen she’d been when she’d shown up at his office building in lingerie hours before, made Vladimir want to kiss her.

So leaning forward, he did.

Her lips felt hot and velvety-soft. Her mouth parted for him, and he deepened the kiss. With a gasp, Bree started to wrap her arms around him.

Then she winced, pulling away. Rubbing her arm, she looked down at her skin. She’d been pricked by the needle of the salesgirl attempting to pin the waist of Bree’s bodice.

Vladimir saw a small red dot of blood on Bree’s skin, and was blinded by instant, brutal rage. He turned on the hapless girl and spoke harsh words in Russian.

The salesgirl choked back a sob and answered him with a flurry of begging and excuses. He stared at her, implacable as stone.

The salesgirl fell to her knees in front of Bree, holding the hem of the blue silk ball gown as she gazed up with imploring eyes.

Bree looked up at him uneasily. “What’s she saying?”

“She’s begging for mercy,” Vladimir said coldly. “She’s saying she’s the sole support of an aging mother and two-year-old son, and she’s begging you to intervene with me, so I don’t have her fired.”

“You wouldn’t do that!”

“I have just told her I will.”

“What?” Bree gasped, staring at him. “No!”

“She hurt you,”
he said tightly.

“It wasn’t her fault!” Bree tugged on the young woman’s arms, forcing her to rise. “I’m the one who moved. And you’re the one who kissed me! She never meant to stick me with her needle!”

“What does her intention matter? The pain for you was the same.”

Bree was staring at him as if he were crazy. “Of course it matters! Why would I punish her for something that she didn’t even mean to do? It was an accident!”

It was an accident.
The memory of his brother’s miserable, humbled voice on the phone ten years ago floated unbidden through Vladimir’s mind.
Forgive me, Volodya. I’m sorry.

“Don’t have her fired. Don’t!”

Bree’s beautiful face came into focus. “Josie and I have been fired like this before.” Her eyes were pleading as she clutched his arm. “You don’t know what it’s like, to always know that your boss or a single customer can just snap his fingers and take away your livelihood and your pride and your ability to feed your family.” She swallowed, her heart-shaped face stricken. “Please don’t do this.”

Vladimir’s lips parted. He didn’t even realize he’d agreed to her request until he saw Bree’s beautiful face light up with happiness. He dimly heard the grateful sobs of the Russian girl, but as Bree threw her arms around him, he felt only her. Saw only her.

“Thank you,” she whispered. She drew back, tears sparkling in her eyes. “And thank you for that huge tip you gave her as an apology. I never expected that.” A smile lifted Bree’s trembling lips. “I’m starting to think you might have a heart, after all.”

Huge tip?
Looking down, Vladimir saw that his wallet was indeed open in his hand, and was now considerably lighter. The salesgirl was holding a wad of rubles, weeping with joy as she shared the unexpected largesse with the others.

“It was kind of you, to care for her.”

His cheeks burned as he turned back to Bree. “I don’t give a damn about her.”

“But—”

He cut in. “I did it for you.”

She took a deep breath.

“That’s why I know you have a heart,” she whispered.

And Vladimir knew she was right. Because in this moment, his heart was beating erratically, misfiring, racing.

Taking her hand in his own, he pulled her down from the pedestal. “I just want you to be happy,” he said roughly. He didn’t know how to manage this reckless, restless yearning he felt every time he looked into her beautiful face, every time he touched her. He looked down at her hand, nestled so trustingly in his. “I want to give you a gift.”

“You already did.”

“Tipping a salesgirl doesn’t count.”

She looked down at the exquisite blue ball gown. “You’re buying me this dress.”

“I want to do something for you,” he growled. “Something you actually care about. Anything.”

Her eyes went wide with dawning, desperate hope.

“Set me free,” she choked out.

Let Bree go? He couldn’t.
Wouldn’t.
After ten years, he’d found her again. What were the chances of them walking into the same poker game in Hawaii? Surely fate had placed her there for a reason?

She’d brought sunlight and warmth into his life. But if he let her go, she might leave. He couldn’t take that risk. Not now. She meant too much.

Folding his arms, he scowled. “You lost fair and square.”

“But this is what I want, more than anything—”

“
No,
Breanna.” He set his jaw. “Something else.”

Crushing disappointment filled her eyes. She looked down. “My birthday is in a few days. Let me fly back to the States and spend it with my sister. I’m worried about her....”

“Josie is fine. My men left her in Seattle, as she requested. She has money. She is fine.”

“So why haven’t I been able to reach her phone?” She swallowed. “I’ve always taken care of her....”

“She’s a grown woman,” he said, irritated. “And you coddle her like a child.”

Her eyes flashed. “Coddle!”

“Yes,
coddle.
She will never grow up until you allow her to make her own choices, and live with the consequences!”

Bree stiffened. “Like you did, you mean—cheating your brother out of the company?”

He glared at her. “He chose to leave, rather than accept my leadership. It made him strong. Strong enough to be my rival!”

“Your enemy, you mean!”

Controlling himself, Vladimir exhaled. “Breanna, I don’t want to fight.”

She licked her lips, then shook her head. “I don’t, either. But I have a reason to protect Josie. I told you, there are men who want to hurt us....”

With a harsh word and a clap of his hands, Vladimir scattered the salesgirls, leaving him alone with Bree in the dressing room. Coming closer, he put his hands on her shoulders and said in a low voice, “Those men won’t be bothering you.”

She blinked. “They won’t?”

“My people tracked them down. One of the men was already dead, unfortunately.” Vladimir gave a grim smile. “But the other two will never bother you or Josie again.”

Her eyes were huge. “What did you do?” she whispered. “Tell me you didn’t...break anything.”

Vladimir narrowed his eyes. “I wanted to. But I respected your request. I paid them off. Also, my investigator gathered enough evidence to have them both thrown in prison for the rest of their lives. If they ever cross your path again, even accidentally, that information will go to the local police. And they will die in jail.” He looked at her blank face, suddenly uncertain. “Is that satisfactory?”

“Satisfactory?” She took a deep breath, then with a sob, threw her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “We’re free!”

He looked down at her, wiping the tears off her cheek gently with his thumb. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you or your sister, Breanna. Ever again.”

Her lower lip wobbled. “Thank you.”

Seeing her reaction, he wanted to do more. He heard himself say, “And I’ll have my men look around Seattle. See if they can track Josie down.”

“Okay,” she sniffled.

“Do you have any idea where she might be?”

She shook her head. “We used to say that when we got back to the Mainland, if we had money, we’d start our own bed-and-breakfast, or a small hotel.” Her cheeks flushed. “But the truth is, that’s my dream, not hers. She wants to go to college.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll find her.” Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he turned away. He was stopped by Bree’s small voice.

“People call you ruthless. But it’s not true.”

Slowly, he turned to face her.

Bree’s hazel eyes were luminous, piercing his soul. “When we met, I thought you’d changed completely from the man I loved. But you’re still the same, aren’t you?” she whispered. “The other man—he’s just the mask you wear.”

Vladimir’s forehead broke out in a cold sweat. He felt bare beneath the spotlight. “You’re wrong,” he said roughly. “I
am
ruthless. Selfish, even cruel. Don’t believe otherwise.”

She shook her head. “You’re afraid people will take advantage, so you hide your good heart—”

“Good heart?” He grabbed her shoulders, looking down at her fiercely. “I am selfish to the bone. I will never put someone else’s interests ahead of my own. I cannot
love,
Bree. That ability is no longer in me. It died a long time ago.”

“But—”

“Would a good man keep you prisoner against your will?”

She lifted her gaze. Her hazel eyes were suddenly troubled, opaque, full of shadows.

“No,” she whispered.

No.
That one word caused an unexpected wrench inside him. As the two of them stood in the huge private dressing room of the designer atelier, her expression became impassive—her poker face. He wondered what she was thinking. In this moment, when he felt so strangely vulnerable, his insight into her soul suddenly disappeared.

“I’m not a good man, Bree,” he said in a low voice. To prove it further—to both of them—he lowered his mouth to hers, kissed her hard enough to bruise. She kissed him back with fierce passion, but he felt her withholding something he wanted. Something he needed.

Unzipping her blue ball gown, Vladimir kissed the bare skin of her neck. Her hair smelled like sunlight and passion fruit, like vanilla and the ocean, like endless summer.

Her strapless silk bodice fell, revealing her white bustier. They were surrounded by mirrors on three sides, and as he saw endless reflections of him touching her, he felt so hard he wanted to take her roughly, against the wall. So he did. As the dress fell to the hardwood floors, he unzipped his pants and lifted her, shoving her roughly against the mirrored wall. Barely pausing to sheath himself in a condom, he thrust inside her. Wrapping her legs around his hips tightly, she clutched his shoulders as he filled her, slamming her against the wall. Five thrusts and she was moaning. Ten thrusts and she clutched her fingertips into his shoulders as her body tightened, her back arching. Fifteen thrusts and she screamed with pleasure in cries that matched his own.

Afterwards, for an instant, panting and sweaty, he just held her, his eyes closed. Then slowly he released her legs, letting her body slide down his. The passion had been hotter than ever.