Josie shook her head desperately. “But I know how I could—”
“You can’t,” she said coldly. “And even if you could, I wouldn’t let you. Dad put that land into an unbreakable trust for a reason.”
“Because he thought I was helpless to take care of myself.”
“Because from the day you were born, you’ve had a knack for trusting people and believing the best of them.”
“You mean I’m stupid and naive.”
Controlling herself, Bree clenched her hands at her sides.
“It’s a good quality, Josie,” she said quietly. “I wish I had more of it.”
And it was true. Josie had always put concern for others over her own safety and well-being. As a chubby girl of five, she’d once wandered out of their Alaskan cabin into the snow, hoping to find their neighbor’s cat, which had disappeared the day before. Eleven-year-old Bree had searched their rural street with their panicked father and half a dozen neighbors for hours, until they’d finally found her, lost in the forest, dazed and half-frozen.
Josie had nearly died that day, for the sake of a cat that was found later, snug and warm in a nearby barn.
Bree took a deep breath. Her little sister’s heart was as big as the world. It was why she needed someone not nearly so kind or innocent to protect her. “Are they still playing?”
“Yes,” Josie said in a small voice.
“Who’s at the table?”
“Mr. Hudson and a few owners. Texas Big-Hat, Silicon Valley, Belgian Bob,” she said, using the housekeeping staff’s nicknames for the villa owners. Her eyes narrowed. “And one more man I didn’t recognize. Handsome. Arrogant. He kicked me out of the game.” She scowled. “The others would’ve let me stay longer—”
“You would have just lost more,” Bree said coldly. Turning away, she went behind her closet door and yanked off her oversized sleep shirt, pulling on a bra and then a snug black T-shirt. “We’d owe a million dollars now, instead of just a hundred thousand.”
“It might as well be a million, for all our chance of paying,” Josie grumbled. “For all the good it will do them if I don’t sell that land. They can’t get blood out of a stone!”
Bree pulled on her skinny dark jeans over her slim legs. “And what do you think will happen when you don’t pay?”
“Mr. Hudson will make me scrub his floors for free?” she replied weakly.
Coming around the closet door, Bree stared at her in disbelief. “Scrub his floors?”
“What else can he do?”
Bree turned away, muttering to herself. Josie didn’t understand the situation she was dealing with. How could she? Bree had made it her mission in life to protect her from knowing.
She’d hoped they would find peace in Hawaii, three thousand miles away from the ice and snow of Alaska. She’d prayed she would find her own peace, and finally stop dreaming of the blue-eyed, dark-haired man she’d once loved. But it hadn’t worked. Every night, she still felt Vladimir’s arms around her, still heard his low, sensual voice. I love you, Breanna. She still saw the brightness of his eyes as he held up a sparkling diamond beneath the Christmas tree. Will you marry me?
Ugh. Furiously, Bree pushed the memory away. No wonder she still hated Christmas. Let other women go home to their turkeys and children and brightly lit trees. To Bree, yesterday had been just another workday. She never let herself remember that one magical Christmas night when she was eighteen, when she’d wanted to change her life to be worthy of Vladimir’s love. The night she’d promised herself that she would never—for any reason—gamble or cheat or lie again. Even though he’d left her, she’d kept that promise.
Until now. She reached into the back of her closet, pulling out her black boots with the sharp stiletto heels.
“Bree?” Josie said anxiously.
Not answering, Bree sat down heavily on the bed. Putting her feet into her boots, she zipped up the backs. It was the first time she’d worn these stiletto boots since she was a rebellious teenager with a flexible conscience and a greedy heart. It took Bree back to the woman she’d never thought she would be again. The woman she’d have to be tonight to save her sister. She glanced at the illuminated red letters of the clock. Three in the morning. A perfect time to start.
“Please, you don’t have to do this,” her sister whimpered. Her voice choked as she whispered helplessly, “I have a plan.”
Ignoring the guilt and anguish in her sister’s voice, Bree rose to her feet. “Stay here.” Squaring her shoulders, she severed the connection between her brain and her pounding heart. Emotion would only be a liability from here on out. “I’ll take care of it.”
“No! It’s my fault, Bree, and I can fix it. Listen. On Christmas Eve, I met a man who told me how…”
But Bree didn’t wait to hear whatever cockamamy sob story someone might have fed her softhearted sister this time. She grabbed her black leather motorcycle jacket and headed for the door.
“Bree, wait!”