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A knock sounded at the door. An older man poked his head in, an American with wire-rimmed glasses and anxious eyes. “Your Highness. Excuse me.”
“What is it, Anderson?” Vladimir demanded.
The man looked at Bree and then cleared his throat. “We’ve reached an impasse, sir. Svenssen is demanding we retain every member of his company’s staff.”
“So?”
“Arctic Oil has a thousand employees we don’t need. Drillers. Cafeteria workers in Siberia. Accountants and secretaries. Dead weight.”
Dead weight. Bree’s spine snapped straight. He would no doubt consider her and Josie dead weight, too, with their ten years of backbreaking, low-paying cleaning jobs. Every month, they’d experienced the painful uncertainty of never knowing if their jobs would last, or if they’d be able to pay their bills. Biting her lip, she glanced up and saw Vladimir watching her. His eyes narrowed.
“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—”
“M
y 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.
