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Could he continue to use her beautiful body in bed, keeping her prisoner to his pleasure, watching as her love for him soon turned to hatred, then numb despair?
He had no choice.
Sitting up, Vladimir leaned his head against the headboard, feeling bleak.
If he couldn’t love her, he had to let her go.
* * *
Bree woke up with a gasp of panic and fear.
Seeing she was alone in bed, she fell back against the pillow with a sob. Within three days, she would have to betray someone she loved. Who would it be?
Josie?
Vladimir?
She felt sick with grief and guilt and fury. Numbly showering and getting dressed, she went down downstairs, where she spoke in terse monosyllables when Vladimir greeted her, wishing her a cheery Happy New Year. She kept her distance from the man she loved, sitting as far as possible from him at the long table as they ate the elaborate holiday breakfast prepared by the chef. She stopped all of Vladimir’s attempts at conversation and just generally made herself unpleasant. But having him close, looking into his handsome, trusting face, was like poison to her.
For some reason, he was bending over backward to try to be nice to her, which made her feel even worse. But by late afternoon, her rudeness had managed to push him to the limit. With a muttered, inaudible curse, he stomped off to work in his home office.
And Bree exhaled, her heart pounding and blood roaring through her ears.
What should she do?
She had to save her little sister. There was no question. Whatever it took to save Josie, she would do. Immediately.
Except…
Betray the man she loved? Could she really steal Vladimir’s company, his life’s work, the only thing he truly cared about—and give it to his brother?
Bree’s mind whirled back and forth in such panic that her body trembled and her knees were weak beneath the strain.
The clock was ticking.
“You have three days,” Kasimir Xendzov had told her. Less than that now. She looked at the clock. Her hands shook, desperate to take action. But what action?
She could contact the police. True, they were in Russia and Josie was…anywhere in the world. But they could contact Interpol, the American Embassy, something!
But while Bree was trawling through layers of international bureaucracy and jurisdictional red tape, Josie would be gone, never to resurface.
I can seduce her, make her fall in love with me and destroy her pitiful little heart, Prince Kasimir had said. I can force her to be my wife forever, and you will never see her again.
Bree paced across the morning room, stopping to claw her hand through her tangled hair. She felt like crying. She didn’t know what to do.
Tell Vladimir everything, her heart begged. Throw yourself on his mercy and ask for help.
Right, she thought with a lump in her throat. Since Vladimir was such a merciful man.
But still, three times that afternoon, she went down the hallway of the palace to the door of his study. Three times she raised her hand to knock, wanting to confess everything. But each time, something stopped her.
His own words.
She is twenty-two years old, he’d said harshly. She must learn to make her own choices, and live with them.
And each time, Bree put her hand down without knocking. What if Vladimir said Josie had brought this on herself, by seeking Kasimir’s help?
If Bree told him everything, and he refused to help her, she would lose her chance to get him to sign Kasimir’s document. And all hope for Josie would be gone. Her baby sister would be left terrified and alone, somewhere in the Sahara. Bree would never see her again.
