“I can make you explode with pleasure...”

Kassius Black rose from the ashes of his catastrophic childhood driven by revenge against the father who abandoned him. With near complete ownership of his father’s assets, Kassius’s last vengeful step is to present him with an heir he’ll never get to know!

“And if I’m wrong, I will pay you ten million dollars.”

Pure in body and mind, Laney Henry is the perfect candidate to wear Kassius’s ring and carry his child. So Kassius delivers his ultimatum confident he has nothing to lose...or does he?

“I am so sure that I can make you gasp with desire, so sure I can make you explode with pleasure, that if I am wrong, Laney, I will pay you ten million dollars.”

Ten million dollars.

The amount staggered her. She thought of what it would mean. She could go back to New Orleans and hire full-time caregivers for her father. Her grandmother, who’d worked her fingers to the bone for fifty years, could finally relax and enjoy her life. Laney could be with the family she loved.

“But the amount I’ll pay if I lose doesn’t matter.” Kassius looked down at her, his eyes glinting wickedly in the moonlight. “Because I intend to win.”

Laney licked her lips. “Just for the sake of argument, if you do make me... um... If you prove I’m not frigid, then what would you want in return?”

“Beyond the sweet prize of your body?”

He moved suddenly, leaning over the bed, running his wide hand in a sensual stroke down her body. His expression was deadly serious.

“If I cannot give you pleasure, Laney, I will give you ten million dollars and you will walk out of here a wealthy woman. But if I make you explode with joy you will surrender everything. You will allow me to take possession of your body and fill you with my child. You will be mine—forever.”

Wedlocked!

Conveniently wedded, passionately bedded!

Whether there’s a debt to be paid, a will to be obeyed or a business to be saved...

she’s got no choice but to say ‘I do!’

But these billionaire bridegrooms have got another think coming if they think marriage will be easy...

Soon their convenient brides become the object of an inconvenient desire!

Find out what happens after the vows in

Trapped by Vialli’s Vows

by Chantelle Shaw

The Billionaire’s Defiant Acquisition

by Sharon Kendrick

One Night to Wedding Vows

by Kim Lawrence

Wedded, Bedded, Betrayed

by Michelle Smart

Expecting a Royal Scandal

by Caitlin Crews

Look out for more Wedlocked! stories coming soon!

Baby of His Revenge

Jennie Lucas

www.millsandboon.co.uk

USA TODAY bestselling author JENNIE LUCAS’s parents owned a bookshop and she grew up surrounded by books, dreaming about faraway lands. A fourth-generation Westerner, she went east at sixteen to boarding school on scholarship, wandered the world, got married, then finally worked her way through college before happily returning to her hometown. A 2010 RITA® Award finalist and 2005 Golden Heart® Award winner, she lives in Idaho with her husband and children.

Books by Jennie Lucas

Mills & Boon Modern Romance

A Ring for Vincenzo’s Heir

Nine Months to Redeem Him

Uncovering Her Nine-Month Secret

The Sheikh’s Last Seduction

To Love, Honour and Betray

A Night of Living Dangerously

The Virgin’s Choice

Bought: The Greek’s Baby

One Night With Consequences

A Ring for Vincenzo’s Heir

At His Service

The Consequences of That Night

Princes Untamed

Dealing Her Final Card

A Reputation for Revenge

One Night In...

Reckless Night in Rio

Unexpected Babies

Sensible Housekeeper, Scandalously Pregnant

Visit the Author Profile page at millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.

To Pete, who inspires me every day.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Wedlocked

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

“I SHOULD FIRE you right now, Laney.” Her boss glared at her. “Anyone would love to have your job. All of them less stupid than you!”

“I’m sorry!” Laney May Henry had tears in her eyes as she saw the hot coffee she’d just spilled on her boss’s prized white fur coat, which had been hanging on the back of a chair. Leaning forward, she desperately tried to clean the stain with the hem of her faded cotton shirt. “It wasn’t...”

“Wasn’t what?” Her boss, a coldly beautiful American-born countess who had been married and divorced four times, narrowed her carefully made-up eyes. “What are you trying to imply?”

It wasn’t my fault. But Laney took a deep breath. She knew there was no point in telling her boss that her friend had deliberately tripped her as she’d brought them coffee. No point, because her boss had seen the whole thing and had laughed along with her friend as Laney tripped with a noisy oof, sprawling helter-skelter across the carpet of the lavish Monaco flat. For her boss, it had all been a good joke—until she saw the coffee hit her full-length fur coat.

“Well?” Mimi du Plessis, the Comtesse de Fourcil, demanded. “I’m waiting.”

Laney dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry, Madame la Comtesse.”

Her boss turned to her friend, dressed in head-to-toe Dolce and Gabbana on the other side of the white leather sofa, smoking. “She’s stupid, isn’t she?”

“Very stupid,” the friend agreed, daintily puffing out a smoke ring.

“So hard to get good help these days.”

Biting her lip hard, Laney stared down at the white rug. Two years ago, she’d been hired to organize Mimi du Plessis’s wardrobe, keep track of her social engagements and run errands. But Laney had quickly discovered why the salary was so good. She was on call day and night, often needing to work twenty-hour days and endure her boss’s continual taunts. Every day of the last two years, Laney had fantasized about quitting and going back to New Orleans. But she couldn’t. Her family desperately needed the money, and she loved her family.

“Take the fur and get out of here. I can’t stand to look at your pathetic little face another moment. Get the coat to the cleaners and heaven help you if it’s not back before the New Year’s Eve gala tonight.” Dismissing her, the comtesse turned back to her friend, resuming their earlier conversation. “I think tonight Kassius Black will finally make his move.”

“You think so?” her friend said eagerly.

The comtesse smiled, like a smug Persian cat with a golden bowl of overpriced cream. “He’s already wasted millions of euros giving anonymous loans to my boss. But the way things are going, my boss’s company will be bankrupt within the year. I finally told Kassius that if he wants my attention, he should stop throwing money down the drain and just ask me out.”

“What did he say?”

“He didn’t deny it.”

“So he’s taking you to the ball tonight?”

“Not exactly...” She shrugged. “But I was tired of waiting for him to make his move. It’s obvious he must be wildly in love with me. And I’m ready to get married again.”

“Married?”

“Why not?”

Her friend pursed her lips. “Darling, yes, Kassius Black is rich as sin and dangerously handsome, but who is he? Where does he come from? Who are his people? No one knows.”

“Who cares?” Mimi du Plessis, who liked to brag about how she could trace her family history back not only to the Mayflower, but to Charlemagne, now shrugged it off. “I’m fed up with aristocrats without a single dollar to their name. My last husband, the comte, bled me dry. Sure, I got his title—but after the divorce I had to get a job. Me! A job!” She shuddered at the indignity, then brightened. “But once I’m Kassius Black’s wife, I’ll never have to worry about working again. He’s the tenth-richest man in the world!”

Her friend elegantly blew out another smoke ring. “Ninth. His real estate investments have exploded.”

“Even better. I know he’ll try to kiss me at midnight. I can’t wait. You can just tell any wife of his would be well satisfied in bed...” Her sharp face narrowed when she saw Laney still hesitating unhappily by the sofa, heavy coat in her arms. “Well? What are you still doing here?”

“I’m sorry, madame, but I need your credit card.”

“Give you my card? That’s a joke. Pay for it yourself. And get us more coffee. Hurry up, you idiot!”

Beneath the weight of the white fur coat, Laney took the elevator downstairs and trudged through the lobby of the elegant Hôtel de Carillon onto the most expensive street in Monaco, filled with designer shops, overlooking the famous Casino de Monte Carlo and the Mediterranean Sea. As she walked out of the exclusive residential hotel, the doorman gave her an encouraging smile. “Ça va, Laney?”

“Ça va, Jacques,” she replied, mustering up a smile. But the heavy gray clouds seemed as leaden as her heart.

It had just stopped raining. The street was wet and so were the expensive sports cars revving by, along with the sodden-looking tourists crowded together in packs on the sidewalk. In late December, the winter afternoons were short and the nights were long. But that only added to the delight of New Year’s Eve. It was a popular time for people, especially wealthy yacht owners, to visit Monaco and enjoy exclusive parties, designer shops and world-class restaurants.

Laney comforted herself with the thought that at least the rain had stopped. Aside from her worries about the coat getting wet, she’d run out of the building too fast to grab her coat and just wore a plain white shirt, loose khakis and sensible clogs with her dark hair pulled up in a ponytail—the uniform of the servant class. But even without rain, the air was damp and chilly, and the sun was weak. Shivering, she held the fur coat tightly in her arms, both to protect it from being splashed by a passing car and to keep herself warm.

She didn’t like her boss’s fur coats much. They reminded her too much of the pets she’d loved growing up at her grandmother’s house outside New Orleans, the sweet, dopey old hound dogs and proudly independent cats. They’d comforted her through some heartbreaking days as a teenager. Thinking of them reminded Laney of everything else she missed about home. A lump rose in her throat. It had been two years since she’d last seen her family.

Don’t think about it. She took a deep breath. The fur in her arms was bulky and big, and Laney was on the petite side, so she shifted the coat over her shoulder to look down at her smartphone.

But as she scouted out the nearest fur cleaner, she was suddenly jostled by a large group of tourists stampeding by, blindly following their guide’s flag up ahead. Stumbling forward, Laney tripped off the curb and fell forward into the street. Turning with a gasp, as if in slow motion, she saw a red sports car barreling down on her!

There was a loud squeal of tires, and Laney felt a surge of regret that she was going to die, at twenty-five, far from home and everyone she loved, holding her boss’s dirty fur coat, run over by a car. She just wished she could tell her grandmother and her father one last time that she loved them...

She closed her eyes and held her breath as she felt the impact. The car knocked her over the hood and she flew, then fell hard on something soft.

The air was knocked out of her lungs, and she wheezed for breath as everything went dark.

“Damn you, what were you thinking!”

It was a man’s voice. It didn’t sound like the voice of God, either, so she couldn’t be dead. Laney’s eyes fluttered open.

A man was standing over her, looking down. His face and body were hidden in shadow, but he was tall, broad-shouldered. And, it seemed, angry.

A crowd gathered around them as the man knelt beside her.

“Why did you run out in the street like that?” The man was dark-haired, dark-eyed, handsome. “I could have killed you!”

Laney suddenly recognized him. Coughing, she sat up abruptly. A wave of dizziness went through her, and she put her hand on her head, feeling sick.

“Be careful, damn you!”

“Kassius—Black,” she croaked.

“Do I know you?” he said tersely.

Why would he? She was nobody. “No...”

“Are you injured?”

“No,” she whispered, then realized to her shock that it was true. Looking down, she saw the fur had blocked her impact against the street like a soft pillow. Incredulously, she touched the nose of the wildly sleek and expensive sports car pressing into her shoulder. He must have stopped on a dime.

“You’re in shock.” Without asking permission, he ran his hands over her. He was no doubt searching for broken bones, but having him touch her—stroking her arms, her legs, her shoulders—caused heat to flood through Laney. Her cheeks burned, and she pushed him away.

“I’m fine.”

He looked at her skeptically.

She look a shuddering breath and tried to smile. “Really.”

Of all the billionaires in Monaco—and there were tons—she’d just inconvenienced the one her boss wanted, this mysterious and dangerous man. If the comtesse found out Laney had caused him problems, on top of everything else...

Laney tried to stand up.

“Wait,” he barked. “Take a breath. This is serious.”

“Why?” She glanced back at the glossy fender of the car. “Did I hurt your Lamborghini?”

“Funny.” His voice was dry. He was looking at her narrowly. “What were you thinking, jumping in front of me?”

“I tripped.”

“You should have been more careful.”

“Thanks.” Rubbing her elbow, she winced. On the two occasions she’d seen the man before, while he was having lunch meetings with the comtesse, Laney had vaguely thought Kassius Black must be an American raised in Europe, or possibly a European raised in America. But there was a strange inflection in his voice that didn’t suit either theory. In fact, it was an accent she recognized well. But it obviously wasn’t possible. She rubbed her forehead. She must have hit it harder than she thought. “I’ll try to take your advice in the future.”

Rising to his feet, he looked around at the crowd that had formed a semicircle around them in the street. “Is there a doctor?” No one moved, even when he repeated the request in rapid succession in three other languages. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“Um...” She bit her lip. “That’s nice and all, but I’m afraid I don’t have time for that.”

He looked incredulous. “You don’t have time for an ambulance?”

She gave herself a quick look for gushing blood or maybe a broken leg she hadn’t noticed. But the worst that seemed to have happened was that she’d had the wind knocked out of her and had gotten a little lump on her forehead. She touched it. “I’m on an urgent errand for my boss.”

Wincing a little, she pushed herself off the street and rose to her feet. He reached out his hand to help her. When their hands touched, she felt electricity course through her body, making her shake all over. She looked up at him. He was nearly an entire foot taller than she was, handsome and powerful and sleek in his dark suit. She could only imagine what a pathetic mess she looked like right now. Talk about noblesse oblige.

She dropped his hand.

“Well, thanks for stopping your car,” she muttered. “I’d better get going...”

“Who’s your boss?”

“Mimi du Plessis, the Comtesse de Fourcil.”

“Mimi?” Abruptly, the man stepped closer, searching her face. Recognition dawned. “Wait. I know you now. The little mouse who scampers around Mimi’s flat, fetching her slippers and finding her phone.”

Laney blushed. “I’m her assistant.”

“What was her errand, so important that you nearly died for it?”

“But I didn’t die.”

“Lucky for you.”

“Lucky,” she breathed as she tilted her head back. Her mind felt oddly blank as she looked up at him. Up close, he was even more handsome. And his face had character, with an interesting scar across one of his high cheekbones. His aquiline nose was slightly uneven at the top, as if it had been broken when he was young and not properly realigned. This man hadn’t been born rich—that much was for sure. He was nothing like the wealthy playboys Mimi had gone through like tissue paper since her divorce. This man was a fighter. A thug, even. And for some reason, as he looked down at her, he made Laney feel dizzy—as if the world had just moved beneath her sensible shoes.

His gaze sharpened. “So what was the errand, little mouse,” he repeated, “so important you were willing to die for it?”

“Her coat—” That reminded her. Looking around for it, she gave an anguished cry.

The expensive white fur was now soaked in a muddy puddle on the street, ripped to shreds where one of his tires had gone through it.

Laney took a deep breath.

“I’m so fired,” she whispered. Her head was starting to clang with headache as she knelt and picked it up. “She told me to get it cleaned before the ball tonight. Now it’s ruined.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“But it is,” she said miserably. “First I spilled coffee on it. Then I wasn’t paying attention where I was walking. I was too busy looking at my phone to get directions to a cleaner... My phone!”

Looking around wildly, she saw it had been crushed beneath the back wheel of his car. Going to it, she lifted its crumpled form into her hands. Tears rose in her eyes as she looked at its shattered face, now crushed into unrecognizable metal.

She wouldn’t let herself cry. She couldn’t.

Then just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, the gray clouds burst above them, and it started to rain.

It was too much. She felt cold raindrops pummeling her messed-up hair and chilled, bruised body. It was the final straw. Against her will, she started to laugh.

Kassius Black looked at her like she was crazy. “What’s so funny?”

“I’ll definitely lose my job for this,” she gasped, hardly able to breathe for laughing.

“And you’re happy about it?”

“No,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Without my job, my family won’t be able to pay rent next month or my dad pay for his medications. It’s not funny at all.”

Kassius’s eyes turned cool. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” she replied, thinking what a strange conversation this was to have with the ninth-richest man in the world. Or was it the tenth?

A car honked, and she jumped. They both turned to look. The crowds of people around them had already started to disperse now it was clear she wasn’t going to bleed out and die on the street. But his car was still holding up traffic. The drivers of the similarly expensive cars lined up behind it were starting to get annoyed.

Kassius’s jaw clenched as he made a rude gesture to them then turned back to her. “If you’re not hurt and don’t want to see a doctor—” he watched her carefully “—then I guess I will be on my way.”

“’Bye,” Laney said, still mourning her broken phone. “Thanks for not killing me.”

Turning away from him, she dropped the fragments of metal in a corner trash can. Slinging the ruined fur over her shoulder, Laney started to walk desolately down the sidewalk in the pouring rain. She’d go back to the Hôtel de Carillon and ask Jacques if he knew a fur cleaner that could perform magic. Oh, who was she kidding? Magic? He’d need to turn back time.

She felt someone grab her arm. Looking up in surprise, she saw Kassius, his handsome face grim. He said through gritted teeth, “All right, how much do you want?”

“How much of what?”

“Just get in my car.”

“I don’t need a ride—I’m just going back to the Hôtel de Carillon.”

“To do what?”

“Give my boss her fur back and let her yell at me and then fire me.”

“Sounds like fun.” Lifting a dark eyebrow, he ground out, “Look. It’s obvious you threw yourself in front of my car for a reason. I don’t know why you’re not doing the obvious thing and immediately asking for money, but whatever your game is—”

“There’s no game!”

“I can solve your problem. About the coat.”

Laney sucked in her breath. “You know how to get it fixed? In time for the ball tonight?”

“Yes.”

“I would be so grateful!”

His voice was curt. “Get in.”

By this time, the cars behind them weren’t just honking, but the drivers were yelling impolite suggestions.

Kassius held open the passenger door, and she climbed in, still clinging to the ruined, muddy, ripped fur coat. He climbed into the driver’s seat beside her, and without bothering to respond to the furious drivers behind them, he drove off with a low roar of his sleek car’s powerful engine.

She glanced at him as they drove. “Where are we going?”

“It’s not far.”

“My grandma would yell at me if she knew I’d gotten in a car with a stranger,” she said lightly. But part of her was already wondering if she should have refused his offer. The fact that he drove an expensive car didn’t mean he could be trusted—in fact, in her admittedly limited experience, it generally meant the opposite.

“We’re not strangers. You know my name.”

“Mr. Black—”

“Call me Kassius.” He gave her a dark sideways glance. “Though I don’t think Mimi ever introduced us.”

“All right. Kassius.” The name moved deliciously on her tongue. She licked her lips. “I’m Laney. Laney May Henry.”

“American?”

“From New Orleans.”

His sudden look was so sharp and searching that it bewildered her. She wasn’t accustomed to being noticed by men, and especially not a man like him. She felt Kassius Black’s attention all the way to her toes.

Her boss had said the man was inscrutable, that he had ice water in his veins. Why was he bothering to help her?

But she needed his help too badly to ask questions right now. “Thank you for helping me. You’re being very kind.”

“I’m not kind,” he said in a low voice. He looked at her. “But don’t worry. You won’t lose your job.”

Her heart lifted to her throat. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had helped her. Generally she was the one who was responsible for everyone and everything.

“Thank you,” she repeated, her voice cracking slightly as she looked out the window, blinking rapidly.

Monaco was a small principality, only two square kilometers, pressed against the Mediterranean Sea on one side, surrounded by France on the other. But as the country had no income tax, wealthy people from all over the world had flocked to become citizens, so it was said that a third of the population were now millionaires. It was famous for its nineteenth-century grand casino, its elegant society and the Grand Prix held every year on the notoriously winding streets.

“I don’t see how this can possibly be made perfect again,” she said sadly, looking at the ragtag coat in her arms. She looked at him. “Maybe you could come back with me to her suite and explain what happened? If you put in a good word, then the comtesse wouldn’t fire me.”

His voice was cool as he focused on the road. “Mimi and I are business acquaintances, nothing more. What makes you so sure I’d have influence on her?”

“Aren’t you in love with her?” Laney blurted out.

“In love!” His hands clenched on the steering wheel, causing the car to sway slightly on the road. Then he looked at her. “What gave you that idea?”

Laney realized she’d gotten it by eavesdropping, and her cheeks went hot. She didn’t want to be indiscreet or spread rumors about her boss. Embarrassed, she shrugged, looking out at the pouring rain. “Most men seem to fall in love with her. I just assumed...”

“You assumed wrong.” He pulled the car abruptly into a spot on the street and parked. “In fact, I’ve been accused of having no heart.”

“That’s not true.” She smiled at him shyly. “You must have one. Why else would you be helping me?”

He gave her a darkly inscrutable glance. Without answer, he turned off the engine and got out of the car.

Laney’s heart pounded as he swiftly strode around the front of the car. He was very tall, at least a foot taller than her, and probably a hundred pounds heavier—a hundred pounds of pure lean muscle. But in spite of his muscle, he moved with almost feline grace beneath his sleek dark suit. Opening her door, he held out his hand.

She stared at it in consternation, wondering if she dared to put her hand in his when it had caused such a powerful reaction in her before.

“Fur?” He said impatiently.

Oh. Blushing, she handed it out to him. He threw the coat casually over his shoulder. It seemed small compared to him. He reached out his hand again. “You.”

For a moment Laney hesitated. She was afraid to make a fool of herself, and the chance seemed high. When she was nervous, she always blurted out stupid things, and Kassius Black made her very nervous.

She timidly placed her hand in his and let him help her out. The warmth and strength of his larger hand against hers did all kinds of strange things to her insides. Dropping his hand quickly, she looked up at the Beaux Arts–style building with a frown. “This doesn’t look like a dry cleaner’s.”

“It’s not. Follow me.”

She followed him through the doors of a very elegant designer boutique. He handed the old fur to the first salesgirl he saw standing inside. “Here. Get rid of this.”

“Of course, sir,” she replied serenely.

“Get rid of it? What are you doing?” Laney cried. “We can’t throw it away!”

But he was looking at the beautiful, well-dressed salesgirl. “Get us a new coat just like it.”

“What?” said Laney.

“Of course, sir,” the girl repeated calmly, and Laney had the sense that her courteous response would have been the same to the request of any wealthy customer, whether it involved tossing a candy wrapper or disposing of a dead body. “We do have one very similar from the same line. The cost is fifty thousand euros.”

Laney nearly staggered to her knees, but Kassius didn’t blink.

“We’ll take it to go.”

Ten minutes later, he was driving her back to the Hôtel de Carillon with the elegantly wrapped new ermine tucked in the trunk, which was confusingly in the front of the car, not the back. Rich people always did some things a little differently, she thought.

But there were some things they did the same.

“There’s only one reason you’d blow all that money on a coat,” Laney informed him as he drove. “Admit it. You’re wildly in love with the comtesse.”

Kassius glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “I didn’t do it for her.” He gave her a sudden grin. “I did it for you.”

“Me?”

“You know who I am and the resources I have. And yet you haven’t tried to take advantage of the fact that I hit you with my car. You should be claiming whiplash, spinal injury, threatening to sue. That’s what I assumed you were after when you flung yourself in front of my car.”

“I didn’t fling myself anywhere,” she protested.

His dark eyes seemed to trace over her petite, curvaceous body, as if imagining her without her button-up white shirt and khakis. As she blushed, his eyes met hers coolly. “You could be lawyered up, demanding millions.”

Millions? That thought hadn’t even occurred to Laney. That kind of fortune could have completely changed her life—and more importantly, her family’s.

But...

“That wouldn’t be right,” she said slowly. “I mean, it wasn’t your fault I fell into the street. You did everything you could not to hit me. Your quick reflexes saved my life.”

“So if I offered you a million euros right now to sign some kind of legal release attesting to that, you would sign it?”

“No,” she said, sadly, cursing her own morals.

His cruelly sensual mouth curved up cynically. “I see—”

“I would sign it for free.”

He looked startled. “What?”

“My grandma raised me to tell the truth and not take advantage. Just because you’re rich doesn’t make me a thief.”

Kassius gave a low laugh as he took a tight left turn. “Your grandmother sounds like a remarkable woman.”

“She is.” She smiled. “A true Southern lady.”

Kassius stared at her for a moment, and his dark eyes glimmered in the fading gray twilight.

His car pulled up in front of the grand entrance of the Hôtel de Carillon. But as he turned off the car engine, she saw something in his face that twisted her heart.

Without thinking, she timidly touched his shoulder. She immediately regretted it as she felt the hard muscle beneath his sleek black jacket. Her hand fell away, but she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Why do you look like that?”

His dark eyes met hers. “Like what?”

She wondered if he’d felt the same sizzle of energy she had when they touched. No. Of course not, that was ridiculous. He was interested only in her employer, who was beautiful, aristocratic and glamorous— everything that she, Laney, was not.

She took a deep breath. “You look...sad.”

Kassius stared at her for a long moment. Then he gave her an abrupt, hard smile. “Billionaires don’t get sad. We get even.” He turned away. “Come on. I’ll save you from Mimi.”

Her own car door suddenly opened. Jacques, the doorman, looked completely and utterly astonished to find her returning to the building in a sports car. He said, “Mademoiselle Laney?”

“Oh, hello,” she said with an awkward laugh and—she feared—a guilty expression. “Um. Monsieur Black was kind enough to offer me a ride in the rain.”

Jacques looked even more shocked when he saw Kassius, who handed him keys and what looked like a very large tip with a murmured, “Merci,” before he retrieved the carefully wrapped brand-new fur from the front of the car, then walked with her into the lavish lobby.

“Tell me,” Kassius said casually as they walked, “What do you think of Mimi? Is she a good employer?”

Laney bit her lip, struggling for words. “I’m grateful for the job,” she said finally, with complete honesty. “She pays a generous salary, and I’m supporting family back home. Thank you for helping me keep it.”

But she felt a little less happy about that prospect from the moment she got back into the comtesse’s suite.

“Laney! You lazy girl! What took you so long? You wouldn’t even answer your phone,” her boss said accusingly the moment she walked in. “You took so long that I was actually forced to get my own coffee. I had to call room service myself. Myself!”

“I’m sorry,” Laney stammered. “I was in an accident, and my phone was—”

“Why do I even bother to pay you, you useless—”

Then Mimi saw Kassius enter the suite behind Laney, and her jaw dropped. Her friend Araminta, lounging on the sofa by the windows, smoking and thumbing idly through a Paris Match, was so shocked her cigarette fell from her mouth.

Both women instantly rose to their feet, tossing their long hair and tilting their hips.

“Kassius!” Mimi cooed, smiling as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. “I didn’t realize you were coming for a visit.”

“I wasn’t. I ran into your assistant on the street.”

He winked at Laney, who blushed.

“What do you mean?” The comtesse looked between them, clearly unwilling to be left out of any private joke. Kassius looked irritated.

“I ran into her with my car,” he said bluntly.

She whirled on Laney.

“Stupid girl, why did you run out in front of Mr. Black’s car?”

Kassius choked out a cough. “It was my fault entirely.” He placed the black zipper bag from the expensive furrier into her arms. “Here. To replace your coat that was ruined in the accident.”

Zipping it open, Mimi gasped. “A new fur! I take it back, Laney,” she said sweetly. “You can let Mr. Black hit you with his car any time he wants.”

And Laney didn’t think her boss was joking, either.

Mimi’s red lips lifted in a flirtatious smile as she stepped closer to Kassius. “Buying me a new fur coat before we’ve even gone on our first date? You really know how to please a woman.”

“Do you think so?” Kassius glanced sideways at Laney. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been inspired to pursue anyone.”

Laney’s heart pounded strangely. He couldn’t be talking about her—could he? No, of course not. It was her boss he wanted, with all her blonde, slender, wickedly fashionable glory. Not Laney, dumpy, plain, ordinary. And clumsy—so clumsy!

“Just wait until you see me at the ball tonight.” Mimi preened. “You’ll be inspired to try a few other things to get my attention, maybe like...” Leaning up on her tiptoes, she whispered something in his ear. His expression was unreadable as he drew back from her.

“What an...intriguing thought.” He looked around at the three women. “So I will see you tonight?” His gaze paused on Laney. “All of you?”

“Of course Laney’s going,” the comtesse said. “I need her there holding my handbag with my lipstick and safety pins in case my dress breaks...it’s tight and mini and held together by tiny straps.” She giggled. “You’ll die.”

Kassius turned to Laney gravely. “Are you, also, planning to wear such a dress?”

Laney blushed in confusion. “I...that is...”

“Laney?” Her boss laughed. “She’ll be wearing a uniform, like the other servants. That’s right and proper. Isn’t it, Araminta?”

“Right and proper,” her friend agreed, lighting a fresh cigarette.

“You should go, Kassius.” Mimi waved her hand airily. “Let us get ready for the ball. Laney has a lot to do...”

Kassius turned the full force of his dark gaze on her. “I wondered if you would do me a small favor.”

“Anything,” she breathed.

Kassius glanced back at Laney. “Laney wouldn’t go to a hospital, but she should at least rest. She hit her head. I’m concerned about her. She’s seemed a little...out of it.”

“Laney’s always out of it,” Mimi replied irritably, and in this case, Laney privately agreed, though it hadn’t been the car accident that had made her brain freeze and her body extra clumsy with sensual awareness. It was Kassius. She’d never had any man affect her like this. Or look at her the way he’d looked at her.

“Do me a favor. Give her the next hour or two off to recuperate.”

“But I need her to—” But beneath the force of his gaze, her boss sighed grumpily. “All right. Fine.”

“Thank you.” His gaze went over all of them but seemed to linger on Laney. Then he tipped his head. “Ladies.”

The comtesse and Araminta beamed at him as he turned and left through the door. Then her boss’s smile dropped.

“All right, Laney. I don’t know what you did to get his attention—his pity—but you truly embarrassed yourself, pushing yourself forward! So tacky!”

“So tacky,” Araminta agreed.

“Now go steam my dress.”

Without the electric distraction of Kassius beside her, with his powerful body towering over her and his dark sensual gaze, Laney suddenly realized she did have a seriously pounding headache. “But you said I could rest a bit—”

“You can rest while you steam my dress.”

“And mine.”

“Consider it a gift.” The comtesse gave her a hard smile. “Pretend you’re at the sauna. The day spa. Enjoy yourself.”

And oddly, as Laney stood in front of the tiny, fancy gowns—which seemed to be made solely of hooked ribbons—and steamed the wrinkles out, she did enjoy herself. She kept picturing Kassius’s dark eyes searching hers, the resonant timbre of his voice, the touch of his hand as he’d helped her out of the car.

Laney stopped, then shook her head. “You’re being ridiculous,” she told herself out loud. “At midnight, he’ll be kissing her—not me!”

She heard the doorbell of the suite ring. Setting down the garment steamer, Laney hurried to answer the door.

A young man was holding a large box. “Delivery.”

“Merci.” Giving him a tip from her own wallet—her employer was notoriously cheap where tips were concerned—Laney took the big white box, accompanied by an envelope. “Madame la Comtesse, you have—”

Then Laney looked at the name written on the envelope and nearly staggered in shock.

Mademoiselle Laney Henry.

“What is it?” Her boss was suddenly standing beside her. “A delivery for me?”

“Actually...” Laney breathed. “It’s for me.”

“What?” Her boss snatched up the envelope. “Who would send you a gift?” She ripped it open and read the message, then staggered back. She glared at Laney with shock in her thin, lovely face. “What did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

She thrust the note at Laney. She looked down at it.

I’m sure you’d look good in any uniform, but consider this instead. Be there before midnight.

Kassius

A hot glow like fire suddenly filled her heart, somewhere between triumph and joy. “He sent me a gift?”

“Open it,” Mimi ordered.

Laney wished Mimi and Araminta weren’t there so that she could just open his present alone and savor it without their glares. But setting the large white box on the table, she lifted the lid.

All three women gasped.

Inside the white box was a sparkling golden gown. It glistened in the light of the suite, strapless, with a sweetheart neckline and wide, voluminous skirts of glittery tulle. Laney lifted a long white glove from the box and suddenly felt like crying. It was a gift fit for a princess. No one had ever given her anything like this in her whole life.

She lifted the gown completely out of the box, holding it up against her body. She barely recognized her own reflection in the gilded mirror, the laughing brown eyes, the way the golden gown set off her creamy skin and dark hair.

“What did you do, throw yourself in front of his car on purpose?” Her boss glared at her. “You sneaky little gold digger, dazzling him with some poor-helpless-little-woman routine? I invented that routine! You think I’ll just let you steal him away from right under my nose?”

She stared at Mimi in shock. “No—”

Her boss looked her over sneeringly, from her plain white shirt to baggy khakis to her sensible clogs. Her lip curled. “What could any man possibly see in you?”

“I’m sure he was just trying to be nice,” she stammered.

“Trying to make you jealous, Mimi,” Araminta said.

“Maybe.” She turned back to Laney. “Fine. Wear that dress. Go to the New Year’s Eve gala tonight. And if he asks you to dance—” her eyes narrowed “—I want you to accept.”

Her? Dance with Kassius Black? In this dress? In spite of herself, Laney swayed deliriously at the thought, nearly hugging herself with happiness.

“Then—” Mimi looked down at her with her red lips curving “—you will tell him you are sick of his attentions and want him to leave you alone. You will insult him until he believes you.”

Laney’s sweet candy-pink dreams all fled. “No!”

“If you don’t, you’ll be out of a job.” The comtesse tossed her long blond hair, putting her hand on a tight white-jeans-clad hip. “Not only that, but I’ll personally make sure no one ever, ever hires you again. So what’s your choice?” Looking at Laney’s miserable face, her smile widened as she added sweetly, “I thought so.”

CHAPTER TWO

KASSIUS GRABBED A crystal flute of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter, sipped it and wrinkled his nose. Too bubbly. Too sweet. He would have preferred a martini, but then, he would have also preferred to spend the evening driving fast on a curvy road, or getting naked in bed with a beautiful woman, rather than being stuck here at some gala, wearing a tuxedo and surrounded by society revelers, many of whom were already tipsy in spite of the fact it was barely ten o’clock.

The party was hosted by royalty, and guests allowed only by exclusive invitation, so it was well attended. The ballroom was in a grand Belle Époque building off the Avenue Princesse Grace, on a peninsula overlooking the bay. Inside, enormous crystal chandeliers hung from high, painted ceilings, sparkling against gilded walls. An orchestra played music that was ponderous and classical and entirely appropriate, and he didn’t much like that, either. He would have preferred rock and roll, or pop, or rap, or even the music that had once been his mother’s favorite, the blues. But then, his mother had been originally from New Orleans, where the blues were born.

Just like Laney.

Kassius pictured her sweet, pretty face. Her big brown eyes, so straightforward and honest and kind. Strange that he’d barely noticed her before today, or maybe not so strange, the little helpful servant fading invisibly into the wallpaper behind her employer.

But now, that had all changed.

Now she had his full attention.

Since he’d left Mimi’s apartment, he’d already had an investigator run a background check on Laney. Born Elaine May Henry, age twenty-five, from a little town outside New Orleans, graduated high school with top honors but skipped college to go straight to work. Her ailing grandmother and disabled father had needed her income, especially since Laney’s mother had abandoned them years before.

The thought of that abandonment made prickles tighten down Kassius’s neck. He’d been abandoned by a parent, too. His father. And his own sweetly fragile mother, once the sheltered darling of a wealthy family from a far different New Orleans neighborhood than Laney’s, had never recovered.

He pushed the memory away, focusing back on the far more pleasant thought of Laney.

After high school, she’d gone to work as a nanny for a professional football player’s family. Two years later, she’d become personal assistant to a famous chef who specialized in Cajun cooking, with a chain of restaurants, including one in Paris. It was there that, two years ago, Mimi had offered her a job at a large increase in pay, then brought her to Monaco. Through it all, one thing remained constant: Laney worked constantly and sent everything home to her family.

She was kind. Loyal. She hadn’t complained about her boss, even when Kassius had deliberately given her the opportunity. Nor had she lied and given Mimi nonexistent good qualities. When pressed for her opinion, Laney had simply expressed honest gratitude for the generous salary.

And yet, even needing money so badly, she hadn’t asked him for a cent after he’d nearly run her over with his car. She’d barely allowed him to replace the fur coat he’d destroyed, and...he suddenly realized he still owed her a phone. She hadn’t brought it up, even when she needed money so desperately, while he had so much now he never even thought about it anymore.

Oh, yes. Laney Henry interested him. After just a single afternoon in her company, he’d seen old-fashioned values he’d heard about, values that were truly rare: self-sacrifice. Kindness. Honesty. Generosity. Loyalty.

And more than that.

Her warm nature attracted him, like bright sunshine after a dark frozen winter. Was it something in the gentle lilt of her voice? Her accent, which reminded him of the all too brief happiness of his early childhood?

Or was it something far more earthy than that? Was he roused by the novelty of Laney’s petite body and outrageous curves, so different from the tall, stick-thin, cool-to-the-touch mistresses he’d taken over the years, who had left him sexually sated but never quite satisfied?

Whatever it was, he found himself unable to think of anything but her. He found himself hungering for her sunlight and heat and fire. Craving an old-fashioned woman that he could trust—and even control—because of her own good, kindhearted nature. But also desire. Oh, yes.

Interesting.

For so long, he’d planned his revenge. He was so close now, but there was one part of his plan that hadn’t yet fallen into place. When he finally destroyed the old man, revealed his true identity and took everything the man cared about—his failing company, his gaudy pink mansion on Cap Ferrat—Kassius had thought he would already have his own snug home, wife, children. How else could he give the widowed, childless old man one last taunt, by showing him the family he would never see again and the grandchildren who would never have the chance to love him?

Kassius allowed himself a cold smile. Across the ballroom, he could see the old Russian’s gray hair as he spoke with friends. Kassius kept his distance, like a shark observing his prey before he went in for the kill.

He suddenly remembered Laney’s quiet voice. You look sad.

And his own grim reply. Billionaires don’t get sad. We get even.

Strange that Laney knew what it was like to be abandoned by a parent, too. Kassius had been astonished to read that in the report. But it had affected her very differently. Rather than creating impenetrable armor to protect herself, rather than growing hard and defensive, she’d somehow stayed soft, like a flower. Laney gave the world everything she had and held nothing in reserve.

He wondered what it would be like to kiss her. To do more than kiss her.

He wondered what it would be like to have her petite, curvaceous body in his arms. To have her look up at him with shining brown eyes and tell him, with a sweet tremble in her husky voice, that she wanted him to take her. That she never wanted to leave him. That she was pregnant with his baby.

The image shouldn’t have turned him on, but it did. A lot.

In the past, he’d never let himself be vulnerable. Becoming too intimate with any woman might allow her to discover the truth of his past, and his real identity, potentially jeopardizing his plans.

Plus, all the women of his acquaintance were like Mimi du Plessis—beautiful, venal, hard as nails. Mimi would betray anyone for the slightest advantage. Or even, he thought, for her own amusement on a cloudy day.

But then, that was exactly why he’d sought her out.

For nearly twenty years, Kassius had plotted his revenge, rising from poverty on the streets of Istanbul, working night and day with one ruthless goal: to destroy Boris Kuznetsov.

But even Mimi, dim-witted and self-centered as she was, had started to grow suspicious about Kassius gathering up the man’s loans and anonymously offering more. They were loans the Russian couldn’t hope to repay. The man was desperate to save his flailing energy company and keep providing for his employees. Even useless ones like Mimi, who was supposedly Kuznetsov Oil’s director of public relations and corporate outreach, but rarely roused herself to do more than attend cocktail parties.

So Kassius had deliberately let her believe he might be pursuing her. He didn’t feel guilty. Mimi du Plessis was well versed in this game, and usually the victor, leaving a trail of broken hearts. She risked only her vanity, not her heart.

But sooner or later, the deception would end. That afternoon, when Mimi had whispered in his ear that she wanted him to handcuff her to a bed and cover her in whipped cream, he’d barely managed to control his revulsion. He wasn’t attracted to Mimi at all. If he handcuffed her to a bed, it would be only so he could leave her more swiftly.

But where was she? Why hadn’t she arrived yet with Laney?

He wanted to see Laney in the gold dress. Coming out of the elevator, he’d seen the gown in the window of the designer boutique on the first floor of the hotel and impulsively bought it for her. Would it fit? Would she wear it? Would it show off those curves barely hinted at in her shapeless white shirt and oversize khaki pants?

Finishing his champagne, Kassius dropped the flute on a passing silver tray and, giving a wide berth to Boris Kuznetsov, he went in search of a martini—and Laney Henry.

He pushed through the well-heeled crowds on the edge of the enormous dance floor, ignoring the inviting smiles of the women and annoyed glares of lesser men. Walking toward the bar, he looked right and left for the glitter of a gold dress.

Then he saw her.

He stopped. Her big brown eyes widened when she saw him. She stopped, too, and as her delectable lips formed his name, all thought of a martini fled his mind.

He’d known Laney would be beautiful.

He’d never imagined this.

The exquisite golden ball gown showed off her hourglass shape, her full breasts and tiny waist. Her skin looked like creamy caramel, with her long dark hair pulled back in a classic chignon. Her long white gloves reached up past her elbows, so the only bare skin revealed was her upper arms, her shoulders and clavicle, with just an enticing hint of cleavage. She was beautiful to him, as fantastical as a princess from a fairy tale.

And so much more alluring than the skinny, hard-eyed blonde now stepping between them, in a tight, short dress made of strategically placed straps that left almost nothing to the imagination.

“Kassius! Darling! I’m so happy to see you.” Mimi du Plessis fluttered her fake eyelashes, then, glancing behind her dismissively, gave a fake, tinkly laugh. “You were so kind to send a dress to my assistant. She might have worn overalls otherwise—no fashion sense whatsoever. Laney.” Wrapping her arm around Kassius’s shoulder, Mimi squashed her cheek to his as she turned around to face Laney. “Take a picture of us,” she demanded, “so we can show everyone what a good time we’re having.”

But as Laney obligingly lifted her boss’s crystal-encrusted phone, Kassius detangled himself before she could take a photo. “Thank you, Mimi, but I prefer my privacy.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s strange, Kassius. You have no online presence. Searching for you on the internet, one comes up with almost nothing.”

“Tragic, but then, I’m in real estate development, not the entertainment business,” he drawled. His expression changed as he turned to face Laney. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, tilting back her head to meet his gaze. Her dark eyes were wide, her cheeks rosy. “You were so nice to send this dress—what possessed you?”

“You,” he said, taking the phone from her and dropping it into Mimi’s hands. “Dance with me.”

“Dance?” With a troubled glance at her employer, Laney licked her full, pink, delectable lips. Just at that, his body tightened with instantaneous reaction. He nearly groaned aloud. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea...”

“It’s a very good idea,” Mimi said smugly. He was almost surprised she was being so reasonable.

“Come now,” he said firmly. Taking Laney’s gloved hand, he pulled her out onto the marble dance floor, and with a twirl of her skirts, tugged her back hard against his body.

He felt her petite form cradled against him, all soft, lush curves beneath the sparkling gold bodice and wide sweep of skirts. Her skin was bare above her gloves. He had to fight the desire to caress her shoulders, to see if her skin was smooth and satiny as it looked.

“I don’t know how to waltz,” she confessed, trembling as she lifted her gloved hands to his shoulders.

“It’s easy.” He gave her a sensual smile. “I will show you what to do.”

He adjusted one of her hands on his shoulder, and took the other in his own.

“See?” he murmured. “You’re a natural.”

Her lips parted as she looked up at him, so pretty, so gentle, so everything he hadn’t realized he desperately desired until this exact moment.

Yes, his body said. Yes. Yes.

Holding her at the prescribed distance as he led her in a waltz, dancing in time with all the other couples on the ballroom floor, his body hungered. He wanted to get her alone, rip off her clothes and feel her naked body against his. He wanted to be above her. Beneath her. Inside her.

He wanted her in his bed. Tonight. Within the hour. If not sooner.

“Mr. Black...” Laney said falteringly.

“I told you. Kassius.”

“Kassius.” Her lips trembled as she whispered his name. Looking up at him, she tried to smile politely, but as her fingers tightened, he knew that she felt the same overwhelming current between them.

“You’ve done so much for me already,” she said shyly. “Replacing the fur coat. Defending me to the comtesse.” She looked down at her gold ball gown. “But this takes the cake. I’ve never owned anything half so beautiful as this.”

“It made me think of you.” He slowly looked her over. “But seeing you in it now, the gown barely does you justice. You are the star.”

As they continued to swirl around the dance floor, he saw Mimi glowering at them. She’d already grown suspicious about his loans. One word to her employer and she could make it much harder for Kassius to achieve his goal. If he were smart, he knew he wouldn’t pursue Laney like this, flaunting his desire before the other woman’s eyes, injuring her pride.

But he couldn’t stop himself. After twenty years of obsessive focus on one goal, he found he could no more pull away from this intoxicatingly beautiful, warmhearted woman than he could voluntarily stop breathing.

A blush burned Laney’s cheeks as her dark eyelashes swept against her skin. “No one has ever said such...” Then she followed his gaze to Mimi, and her expression shuttered. “Oh,” she said, and the sound was like a wistful sigh. “You really are just trying to make her jealous, aren’t you?” She shook her head and tried to smile, but her eyes seemed to glimmer. “The games rich people play. You should just try being honest.” She abruptly stopped dancing. “Go ask her to dance. And leave me out of it—”

But as she tried to pull away, he held her fast.

“I do not play those kinds of games. I do not need to play them.”

“Then why—”

His eyes flicked toward Mimi du Plessis, in her ridiculously tight bandage minidress, whispering to her friend Araminta. “If I wanted her in my bed, she’d already be flat on her back.”

“That’s a crude thing to say.”

“You said you wanted honesty.”

“It’s not nice.”

“I could have her.” He slowly looked around the dance floor. “I could have most of these women. I know, because I have already had some of them, and the rest have made the invitation clear.”

“Is this your idea of bragging? Telling me you’ve slept around? I’m not impressed that you’ve had so many lovers.”

“No?” His hands tightened on her. “But I am impressed you’ve had so few.”

He heard her intake of breath as her eyes widened. “How can you—”

She cut herself off.

“How can I tell?” He ran one hand down her back. “I can tell in the way you shiver when I touch you.” He cupped her cheek with the other. “I can tell in the way you hold your breath when I look at you.” He twirled her on the dance floor, then pulled her tight against his body. “I can feel it,” he said roughly, “in the way your body trembles against mine.”

Kassius looked down at her. She was so tiny in his arms, he thought, so feminine and vulnerable. And yet it was her vulnerability that most impressed him. He marveled that anyone could be so fearless.

“It’s part of what makes you different,” he said in a low voice. “Your warmth. Your kindness. You’re not just beautiful. You give so much of yourself and ask for so little.”

“I’m...just...ordinary,” she said softly, her dark eyes pleading.

“No.” He shook his head with a slow-rising smile. “You’re far from that.”

“You’re wrong—”

“You refused to take my money, even when I offered it. Refused to speak badly of Mimi, even though she cannot be a considerate employer. You give up your whole life to work, to take care of your family.” He ran his hands gently over the nape of her neck. He yearned to pull her hair out of the prim fastenings of her chignon and let it tumble down her shoulders. Abruptly the fantasy came into his mind of her sitting naked on him, her thighs wide, leaning over to kiss him, long dark hair brushing against his skin as her full breasts pressed against his chest.

Soon. Soon.

With a deep breath, he took hold of himself and continued frankly, “Tonight you look like a princess. But I’m starting to believe it only reflects the way you are inside. There’s something about you I can’t resist...” Leaning forward, allowing his lips to brush against the sensitive flesh of her ear, he whispered, “I want you.”

But as he drew back and looked down at her, a shadow crossed her lovely face. With a small glance back toward her boss, she pulled away from him, her expression sorrowful.

“I’m sorry, but I’m just not interested.”

Kassius hadn’t expected that at all, not with the way he’d felt her trembling in his arms. Had he misjudged her desire?

Then he looked more closely at her beautiful face, at how she’d turned pale beneath the blush on her cheeks, her eyes haunted and black. She was lying. But why?

“Really,” he said evenly.

She nodded furiously, but as the couples around them continued to waltz around where they stood stock-still on the dance floor, she refused to meet his gaze.

“Tell me why.”

“Because...” She licked her lips uncertainly then lifted her chin. “Because you’re a playboy who sleeps around in such a disgusting way.”

“Try harder.”

“You’re not even slightly attractive to me.”

“Explain.”

She looked him over desperately. “You’re too—um—tall.”

He snorted. “Too tall?”

“Fine. I’ll give you a reason,” she snapped. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m just a frigid virgin, all right?”

“The virgin I might believe. But frigid?” Shaking his head, Kassius gave a low laugh. Pulling her closer, he ran his hands over her soft, bare shoulders. He felt her tremble as she looked up at him breathlessly. He could see the shape of her taut nipples through her silky bodice. Running his hands slowly, sensuously, down her arms, he said, “You are far from that.”

She looked at him with big eyes. “Please...please don’t.”

“Why?”

“Because—” She swallowed, then said in a voice so low he had to strain to hear, “If I don’t make you stop pursuing me, my boss says I’m fired. And she’ll make sure I never get another job.”

He was so shocked he almost laughed. “She said what?”

But it was obvious Laney didn’t see it as a joke but a real threat. Her face was anguished. “If I can’t work, how will I support my family? So you have to go away and leave me alone.” Her pleading brown gaze fell to his lips as she whispered, “Just go...”

Her words might be saying one thing, but her body was saying another. She didn’t even know what she was really asking him for. But he did.

Laney was a virgin? He could hardly believe it. He’d never made love to a virgin before. It was almost cruel. It made him desire her even more, when he was already nearly exploding with need, and would also force him to seduce her more slowly. He didn’t know how much more self-restraint he could endure. Where women were concerned, he wasn’t accustomed to it.

The orchestra’s music stopped, and as the other couples left the dance floor, he felt their curious glances as they passed, felt Mimi’s glower from the crowd.

He knew he was making a mistake. He’d always been private to the point of mania, but here, in the literal spotlight, he suddenly didn’t care who might be watching.

Pulling Laney roughly against his body, he tangled his hands in her hair, tilting her chin upward. “Get one thing straight,” he said, searching her gaze ruthlessly. “I don’t give a damn about Mimi or anyone else. I only care about one thing.”

She looked at him defiantly. “And what might that be?”

“Taking what I want,” he said ruthlessly. “And I want you.”

And cupping her face with his hands, he lowered his head and kissed her, right there on the dance floor of the New Year’s Eve ball.

* * *

His lips were soft against hers at first. Laney felt the roughness of his chin, the sweet taste of his mouth.

She had no idea what to do. The one time she’d been kissed before, it had been a total disaster.

But this was different. He was different. As Kassius’s mouth began to move more forcefully against hers, taking rather than asking, she realized she didn’t have to do anything but surrender. Her eyes squeezed shut.

As she relaxed against him, his kiss deepened, and he pushed her lips apart, plundering her mouth. She nearly gasped at the pleasure that went through her, a whoosh of sensation that electrified her from her lips to her earlobes to her breasts and lower still. Her nipples tightened. Low in her belly, she felt a new sensation coil deep inside her.

Pleasure seemed to be exploding from her body like light. She’d never experienced anything like this—never—

“You’re mine,” he whispered roughly against her lips. “Mine.”

She realized she’d tightened her hands against his shoulders, bringing him down hard against her in the kiss. Then he abruptly pulled away, leaving her bereft.

Her eyes flew open, and she saw the orchestra had taken a break—they were alone on the dance floor and the entire ballroom had fallen silent, staring at them. Mimi’s eyes were beaming such lasers of fury Laney feared she might burst into flame. Then she remembered.

“Oh, no,” Laney choked out. Her hands went to her face in dismay. What had she done, letting him kiss her? How could she have been so selfish as to give in to the moment when her family was counting on her? “What have I done?”

“Nothing. Yet.” He sounded almost amused as his larger hand took hers. His dark eyes seared her. “But you will. You’re coming home with me. Now.”

Laney looked up at him, feeling like her whole future was hanging in the balance.

She looked at Kassius in his sleek bespoke tuxedo, so tall and broad shouldered. Power and wealth clung to him as ineffably as his faint scent of cypress and musk.

There was no way a handsome billionaire could actually want Laney. She was just a regular girl. She liked fried chicken and po’ boy sandwiches, not foie gras and caviar. She drank sweet tea, not Dom Pérignon. She bought her clothes from discount warehouses, not based on prestige or even appearance, but comfort and practicality.

She had nothing in common with the typical girlfriends of billionaires—nothing!

“You can’t want me. You can’t possibly want me.”

“Why?” he demanded.

“Why? Because you’re—you. And I’m me.” She could still hardly believe that she was even here, in this illustrious gilded ballroom in Monaco, with its soaring crystal chandeliers, full orchestra and a thousand members of the international jet set. Her only other dance experience had been at senior prom, in a school gymnasium with paper decorations and balloons, a punch bowl and a DJ. She’d been hopeful and excited, wondering if the high school quarterback would kiss her. And look how that night had turned out. “Please just let me go.”

Kassius’s dark eyes glittered. “Is that really what you want?”

No. No. Of course it wasn’t. She felt intoxicated and alive for the first time in her life. She wanted to be beautiful and desired by the most handsome, powerful man on earth, one of the richest men in the world. The thought was like a dream to her. A deliriously impossible dream.

She felt everyone staring at them, the only ones left on the dance floor. The center of attention.

She whispered, “Everyone is staring at us.”

“Staring at you. They’re wondering who you are.”

She gave a low laugh. “I’ve lived here almost two years!”

“As a servant. Invisible.” He stroked her bare shoulder, looking down at her in the shimmering gold gown. “You’re not invisible anymore.”

Because of you, she thought. Her heart was pounding in her throat.

“Come with me. Now. Tonight.” His handsome face was hungry and hard as he took her hand.

She did not—could not—resist. He led her through the ballroom, and a path magically cleared for him—all six foot four, two hundred pounds of muscle—through the crowd.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mimi and Araminta’s thin, shocked faces as they passed by. But she couldn’t think about that now, or her future. All she could do was follow where Kassius led, out of the ballroom and the vast building to the street outside, where a sleek dark car swiftly pulled up to the curb and a uniformed driver hastened to open her door.

Outside, the moon was pearlescent in the dark sky. A ghostlike glow frosted the palm trees swaying in the abrupt hard wind. Winter in Monaco was generally sunny and mild, but sometimes after a rain, the strange rare wind of the mistral would rise, a legendarily violent wind capable of driving men and women mad.

The mistral. It was her only excuse...

Without a word, Kassius pushed her into the backseat of his limo. The door was barely closed behind them, the vehicle just starting to pull out into the street, before Kassius’s mouth was on hers. He pushed her back against the smooth leather, and she closed her eyes, feeling his hands everywhere, over the sparkling layers of her golden gown. His hands ran over her naked shoulders, cupping her face as he kissed her roughly, his mouth searing hers, taking possession without permission or apology. She felt the strength and weight of his body pressing against her.

As he kissed her, he peeled off her long gloves one by one, and as she felt the soft whisper of fabric move slowly down her skin, she shivered from sensation. Her breasts felt heavy beneath the fabric of her strapless bodice, her nipples agonizingly tight and so sensitive as he brushed against her, pushing her beneath him, caressing her, mastering her. She felt bewildered, dizzy.

The passenger door of the limousine suddenly fell open.

She opened her eyes in shock to see that the car was now parked in front of the Hôtel de Carillon. In the heat of their embrace, she hadn’t noticed the drive, the route, even Kassius’s driver and bodyguard sitting at the front. Both of those men were now standing on the sidewalk beside the open door, carefully not looking in their direction.

The doorman, Jacques, had no such discretion. When he came forward, his mouth fell open.

“Mademoiselle Laney?”

Her cheeks went hot with shame as she sat up hurriedly, making sure her breasts weren’t falling out of the bodice of her dress. She could only imagine what she looked like...

“Thank you,” Kassius said coolly, “but I’ll help her out.” Getting out of the limo, he turned and held out his hand. With a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed with embarrassment and humiliation, she tried to keep her face expressionless as he led her past the doorman into the lobby of the residential hotel.

“You’re bringing me home,” she whispered over the lump in her throat. She wasn’t even surprised. She could still hear that harsh voice from long ago. Frigid little virgin...

“Yes,” Kassius said.

“You brought me home before midnight.” She gave him a weak smile. “Like Cinderella.”

They reached the elevator, and the doors opened. He drew her inside and pushed the button.

“That’s the wrong floor. Mimi doesn’t live in the penthouse.”

“But I do.”

Her heart twisted in her chest.

“You do?” she whispered.

He came closer to her in the elevator, looking down at her. He cupped her cheek. “I just bought it.”

“You did?” She looked up at him, feeling dizzy and strange. “Why?”

“I needed a place in Monaco.” His voice was husky. Sexy. “Until I am able to buy a special villa I want on Cap Ferrat.”

“You—you want me to come upstairs with you?” she breathed, hardly knowing what she was saying.

“I do,” he whispered, running his hand down the side of her neck. The edges of his lips curved upward. “And you will...”

Roughly, he pushed her back against the mirrored elevator wall. Her head fell back as she closed her eyes, lost in sensation as he kissed down her neck, her cheek, sucking her earlobe as his hands ran over her bare arms, her shoulders, cupping her breasts through the fabric.

The elevator door opened to the top floor, and for a minute she didn’t, couldn’t, move, just leaned back against the mirror, her knees feeling weak.

So he picked her up as if she weighed nothing. Her sparkly tulle skirts fluttered behind them as he carried her swiftly down the hall.

Held against his powerful chest, Laney looked up at him in a daze as he brought her into the luxurious penthouse suite of the Hôtel de Carillon.

The suite was dark, but she could see the ceilings were two stories high. The furniture was stark and modern, but she barely saw it amid the shadows before her gaze was transfixed by the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows with views of the sparkling lights of nighttime Monaco, and beyond that, the vast dark Mediterranean.

Kassius set her down slowly, letting her body drag against his, falling in a cascade of tulle. For a moment, he looked down at her, then with a low growl, he whirled her around so he was looking at her back. She blinked at the view. She saw a few lights of ships floating through the dark sea, like stars in the sky.

She shouldn’t be here. She should go. But she felt like time and reality had fled, as if she were someone else entirely. Someone reckless...

He slowly unzipped her dress, dropping it to the floor. The cool air licked at her skin as he turned her back around to face him. She was almost naked, wearing only a strapless white bra and plain white lace panties. He slowly looked her over. “You are so beautiful.”

And even in the shadows of the penthouse suite, she saw in the hard lines of his face, of his body, that he did desire her. Fiercely.

She should leave. Her brain and heart were begging her to leave—leave now. Because there was only one way this could end. Badly.

But for some reason, her body refused to budge as he pulled off her shoes, one by one.

Rising to his feet, Kassius slipped off his black tuxedo jacket. Taking her hand, he drew her into the bedroom.

Translucent gauze curtains covered the windows and sliding glass door to the balcony. He opened the balcony door, and she took a deep breath of the cool, hard wind, scented of salt sea and golden mimosa flowers in bloom.

Laney stood nearly naked in front of Kassius Black—this handsome, dangerous billionaire who was so much larger than she, in every possible way. She lifted her face to his.

His dark eyes were hungry as he came back toward her, and, nervously, she backed away from him, falling back softly onto his enormous king-size bed, against the large white pillows on the white comforter. Standing over her, he deliberately pulled off his black tie.

Wearing only his white shirt and black tuxedo trousers, he kicked off his shoes and reached toward her on the bed. Slowly, he ran his fingertips down her cheek, then her throat, then the hollow between her breasts. She could not move as his fingertips lightly stroked downward, past her silky strapless white bra to her rib cage and the bare skin of her belly. His hand traced downward, ever downward, to the top edge of her lacy white panties.

She suddenly stopped him with her hand.

“Don’t,” she choked out.

His forehead furrowed. “Why?”

“I’ll only disappoint you.”

“You’re a virgin. How do you know?”

“I know.”

Silvery moonlight streaked through the windows, frosting the gauzy curtains and the hard lines of his cheekbones and jaw as he leaned back, staring down at her incredulously. “You actually think you’re frigid, don’t you?”

“I know I am.”

“Why?”

“The boy who took me to prom...he told me.”

“And you believed him?”

“He would know. He kissed a lot of girls.” A lump rose in Laney’s throat. “Look, it’s almost midnight. You should go back to the party. Find someone who knows how to kiss—”

“I have the one I want.” His fingertips changed course, skimming over the curve of her hips to her bare thighs.

“Look—” she swallowed “—I don’t know why you chose me, whether you’re just slumming or—”

He abruptly dropped his hand.

“You spoke earlier about games, Laney. Let’s play a game now, you and I.”

“What game?”

His gaze locked with hers. “I will prove to you that you are not frigid. That you are a warm, desirable woman. A woman made for pleasure.”

“What if you can’t?”

He gave a low laugh. “I will. All I have to do is touch you—even look at you—to know I am right.”

“And if you’re wrong?” she said desperately, remembering the humiliating night of prom when she was eighteen.

“Then I will pay a forfeit.” He smiled. “Shall we say—one million dollars?”

She gaped at him. “Is that a joke?”

“No.”

“That’s the second time you’ve offered me a million!”

“Is it not enough?” he said lazily, looking at her beneath heavily lidded eyes. “Two million, then. Ten. I am so sure that I can make you gasp with desire, so sure I can make you explode with pleasure, that if I am wrong, Laney, I will pay you ten million dollars.”

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