She’d wanted him to.
Her lips had tingled as she’d waited breathlessly for him to lower his mouth savagely to hers and pull her hard against his body. She’d ached to stroke her hands down his hard, tanned chest, laced with dark hair. She’d yearned to feel his pure heat and fire. Her body still shook with the memory of how she’d wanted it. And looking at him, she’d known he felt the same.
But he’d hadn’t touched her.
When he’d abruptly turned away, she’d felt bereft—disappointed. Almost heartbroken.
Which made no sense at all. She admired commitment to promises, didn’t she? And while they’d been thrown together in a very intimate way, it wasn’t as if they had—or ever would have—a real marriage.
She needed to keep reminding herself of that.
Kasimir returned to the table outside the dining tent. He had two snowboards hefted over his shoulders as if they weighed nothing. “Let’s go.”
Smiling, and far lighter on her feet, she led the way to the top of the dune.
“Like being faster than me, huh?” he said, quirking his eyebrow.
She grinned. “Absolutely.”
“We’ll see.” He answered her with a wicked smile. “Sit down right here.”
Obediently, Josie plunked back on the warm sand in her cotton button-down shirt and soft linen pants. As he knelt on the sand in front of her, in his form-fitting T-shirt and loose cargo shorts, she wondered how brave she could really be. He’d promised not to kiss her.
But there was no rule about her kissing him.
“You’re going to love this,” he said, pulling off her sandals.
She shivered. His hands brushed against the hollows of her bare feet, and her mouth went dry. “I’m sure,” she murmured.
He was inches away from her. She could just lean forward and kiss him. Press her lips against his. Could she do it? Was she brave enough?
Kasimir’s blue eyes met hers, and he smiled. She wondered how she’d ever thought him cold in Honolulu. Here, he was warm and bright as the blazing desert sun. “Are you nervous?”
“Yes,” she whispered, praying he couldn’t guess why.
“Don’t be.”
She gave a soft laugh. “That’s easy for you to say.”
He placed her bare feet into the straps attached to the board. Standing up, he grabbed her hands and pulled her upright. Josie swayed a little, getting used to the balance. She hadn’t been on a board in a long time. She tested the sand with a slight lean and twist. Without snow boots, the ankle support was nonexistent. Turning corners would be nearly impossible.
Kasimir stepped into his own modified snowboard, and his arm shot out to grab her when she started to tilt. “Ready?”
She felt a flash of dizzying heat with his hand on her arm. “Yes,” she breathed. “I just need a second to build my courage.”
“So.” He gave her a slow-rising grin. “Are you interested in racing me?”
“Racing?” Josie looked dubiously over the edge of the dune. It wasn’t as steep as some of the mountains she’d snowboarded in Alaska, but that was ten years ago. To say her skills were rusty was an understatement. And boarding down sand was going to be like sailing down a sheet of ice. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“I thought you said you liked being faster than me.”
“I do.”
“Then racing me should be right up your alley.” His masculine grin turned downright cocky. “I’ll even give you a head start.”
Laughter bubbled up to her lips, barely contained. He clearly believed he would be faster. “Um. Thank you?”
“And if you win, you’ll get a prize.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Your own private tent,” he said recklessly. “For the rest of the time we’re in the Sahara.”
Her lips parted. Somehow that prize didn’t excite her as much as it once would have. “And what about if you win?”
Kasimir looked down at her, and something in his glance made her hold her breath.
“You’ll share my bed,” he said softly, “and let me make love to you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHARE HIS BED?
Josie’s lips parted, her heart beating frantically as she looked up at him.
Let him make love to her?
She’d been trying to build up enough courage to kiss him. What would it be like to have him make love to her?
With a shuddering breath, she looked up at him. “I thought you said our marriage was in n-name only.”
“I changed my mind,” Kasimir said huskily. “You know I want you. And I’ve come to enjoy your company. There’s no reason we shouldn’t be...friends.”
“Friends who will divorce in a few weeks.”
“We could still see each other.” He looked at her. “If you want.”
Her lips parted. “If I want?”
“I would very much like to still see you, after we are divorced.” His blue eyes seared through her soul. “For as long as you are still interested in seeing me.”
Josie sucked in her breath. For as long as she wished to see him? That would be forever!
She looked back over the edge of the dune. It didn’t look so frightening anymore. Not with this new challenge. Not with her very virginity on the line.
But...
What about saving herself for love, for commitment, for a lifetime?
She looked back at him. Was Kasimir the man? Was this the time? Was this how she wanted to remember her first night, for the rest of her life?
Her heart pounded in her throat.
Should she let her husband take her virginity?
“Just so you know,” she said hesitantly, “my babysitter taught me to snowboard.”
“Even better.” He gave her a cheeky grin. “So with your head start, you have pretty good odds.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his smug masculine confidence. “Bree’s the gambler, not me.”
He gave her a long look beneath the blazing white sun.
“Are you sure about that?” he said softly.
On the other end of the dune, with a loud shout, the boys pushed off again, going straight down, good-naturedly roughhousing and cutting in front of each other as they skidded down the sand.
Josie closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and made her choice.
“I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.”
His blue eyes were beaming. He clearly expected that this would be no contest and that he would easily overtake her. He didn’t know that the entirety of the choice was still hers. Would she let him beat her? Or not?
Before her courage could fail her, she breathed, “Just tell me when to go.”
“One...two...three...go!”
Hastily, Josie tilted her snowboard and went off the edge, plummeting down the dune. Her body remembered the sport, even though her brain had forgotten, and her board picked up speed. For a glorious instant, she flew, and wild joy filled her heart—joy she hadn’t felt for ten years.
Then she remembered: if she won, she would sleep alone.
And if she lost, he would seduce her.
Slow down, she ordered her feet, and though they protested, she made them turn, her body leaning to drag the board against sand as hard and glassy as ice. It was hard to slow down, when her body yearned to barrel down the dune, like the reckless child she’d once been.
“You’ll never win that way,” Kasimir called from the top, sounding amused. “Turn your feet to aim straight down.”
Josie choked back a wry laugh. He had no idea how hard she was trying not to do that. A bead of sweat formed on her forehead from the effort of fighting her body’s desire to aim the snowboard straight down and plummet at the speed of flight. Couldn’t he tell? Couldn’t he see she was actually forcing herself not to win?
“Ready or not...”
Behind her, he pushed off the top of the dune. Smiling, she looked up at him as he glided past her on his snowboard. She saw the joy in his face—the same as when they’d galloped together across the desert that morning.
“You are mine now, kroshka!” he shouted, and flew past her.
Let me fly fast, half her heart begged.
Let him seduce you, the other half cried.
Then Josie turned her head when she heard a scream at the bottom of the hill. One of the roughhousing boys had lost control and crashed into the other, sending the smaller one skidding down the hard sand in panicked yells. The smaller boy, perhaps twelve years old, had a streak of blood across his tanned face and a trail of red followed him across the pale sand.
Josie didn’t think, she just acted. Her knees turned, she leaned forward and she flew down the hill. She had a single glimpse of Kasimir’s shocked face as she flew right past him. But she didn’t think about that, or anything but the boy’s face—the boy who moments before had seemed like a reckless, rambunctious teenager, but who now she saw was barely more than a child.