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father had just died, and violent men were demanding repayment of his debts—”
    “Of course.” He shrugged contemptuously. “Every criminal always has some hard-luck story. But our company was still new. We wanted our family’s land back, but we could little afford to lose the thousands of dollars in earnest money she planned to steal from us. She had Vladimir so wrapped around her finger, she would have succeeded…”
    She shook her head vehemently. “She told me the whole story. By then she’d already fallen in love with your brother, and was planning to throw herself on his mercy.”
    “On his mercy? Right. I told him the truth about her, and he refused to believe me.” He looked away. “I decided to fly back to our site in Russia, alone. At the airport, I drunkenly told a reporter the whole story. The next morning, when my brother found himself embarrassed in front of all the world, he pushed me out of our partnership. And out of a Siberian deal he signed two days later worth half a billion dollars.”
    “I’m sorry about the problems between you and your brother, but it wasn’t Bree’s fault!”
    “No. It was Vladimir’s. And mine.” He narrowed his eyes. “But she still deserves to be punished.”
    “But she has been,” Josie said, looking down unhappily at her empty plate. “She was going to tell your brother everything. To be honest, at any price. But he never gave her thechance. He deserted her without a word. And he left her to the wolves. Alone, and in charge of a twelve-year-old child.” She lifted her gaze. “My sister has been punished. Believe me.”
    As he stared at her, his angry gaze slowly softened. “You alone are innocent in all this. I will bring her back to you. I swear it.”
    She gave an awkward laugh. “Stop it, will you? Stop being so—”
    “You’d better not say
nice
,” he threatened her.
    She took a deep breath. “Just stop reminding me!”
    “Of what?”
    She spread her arms helplessly. “That you’re a handsome, charming prince, and I—” She stopped.
    “And you what?”
    She blurted out, “I’m a total idiot who can’t even remember to pack underwear!”
    Oh, now she’d really done it. She wished she could clap a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. His eyes widened as he sucked in his breath.
    “Are you telling me,” he said in a low voice, “that right now, you’re not wearing any underwear?”
    Miserably, she shook her head, hating herself for blurting out every thought. Why, oh why, had she ever mentioned underwear? Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut?
    His blue eyes moved slowly over her curves in the tight white dress. A muscle tightened in his jaw. “I see.” He turned away, his jaw clenched. “We’ll have to buy you some. After the wedding.”
    His voice was ice-cold. She’d offended him, she thought sadly. She buttered a delicious crusty roll, then slowly ate it as she tried to think of a way to change the subject. “Your Highness…”
    He snorted. “I thought you said it was a worthless title.”
    “I changed my mind.”
    “Since when?”
    She tried to grin. “Since I’m about to be a princess?”
    “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.