Baby Of His Revenge

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?