Rich Man's Revenge. Katherine Garbera

car,” she said grudgingly.

      With a sudden low laugh, Vladimir started the engine. “It gets me where I need to go.”

      At the sound of that laugh, she sucked in her breath.

       His laugh …

      She’d first heard it at a party in Anchorage, when Vladimir Xendzov was just a mark, half owner of a fledgling mining company, who had come to Alaska looking to buy the land her father had left in an ironclad trust for Josie, then just twelve years old. Bree had been hoping she could distract Vladimir from the legal facts long enough to disappear with his money. Instead, when their eyes met across the room, she’d been electrified. He’d grabbed an extra flute of champagne and come toward her.

      “I know who you are,” he’d said.

      She’d hid the nervous flutter in her belly. “You do?”

      He gave her a wicked smile. “The woman who’s coming home with me tonight.”

      For an instant, she’d caught her breath. Then she’d laughed in his face. “Does that line usually work?”

      He’d looked surprised, then he’d joined her laughter with his own low baritone. “Yes,” he’d said almost sheepishly. “In fact, it always does.” He’d held out his hand with a grin. “Let’s try this again. I’m Vladimir.”

      Now, as his eyes met hers, his expression was like stone. He yanked hard on the wheel of the Lamborghini, pulling the car away from the curb with a squeal of tires. Bree glanced behind them, and saw her sister’s SUV was indeed following them. She exhaled.

      She had to think of a way to get out of this prison sentence. She looked at the passing lights of Honolulu. The city sparkled, even in the dead of night.

      Deals can always be made. Her father’s words came back to her. Just figure out what a man wants most. And find a way to give it to him—or make him think you will.

      But what could a man like Vladimir possibly want, that he didn’t already have?

      He was frequently in the business news—and nearly as often in the tabloids. He was the sole owner of Xendzov Mining OAO, with operations on six continents. His company was one of the leading producers of gold, platinum and diamonds around the world. He was famous for his workaholic ways, for his lavish lifestyle, and most of all for the ruthless way he crushed his competition—most spectacularly his own brother, who’d once been part-owner of the company before Vladimir had forced him out, the same day he’d abandoned Bree in Alaska. For ten years, the two brothers’ brutal, internecine battles had caused them both to lose millions of dollars, tarnishing both their reputations.

      Ala Moana Boulevard was deserted as they drove away from Waikiki, heading toward downtown. Along the wide dark beach across the street, palm trees stretched up into the violet sky. They passed Ala Moana Center, which was filled with shops such as Prada, Fendi and Louis Vuitton—brands that Bree had once worn as a teenage poker player, but which as a hotel housekeeper she couldn’t remotely afford. Vladimir could probably buy out the entire mall without flinching, she thought. Just as he’d bought her.

      Bree rolled down her window to breathe the warm night air. “So tell me,” she said casually. “What brings you to Honolulu?”

      He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t.”

      “What?”

      “Play whatever angle you’re hoping to use against me.”

      “I wasn’t …”

      “I can hear the purr in your voice.” His voice was sardonic. “It’s the same one you used at the poker table, whipping the male players into a frenzy by offering your body as the prize.”

      Anger rushed through her, but she took a deep breath. He was right—that wasn’t exactly her proudest moment. She looked down at her hands, clenched in her lap. “I was desperate. I had nothing else to offer.”

      “You weren’t desperate when you played that last card against me. Your sister’s debt was already paid. You could have walked away.”

      Tears burned the backs of her eyes. “You don’t understand. We are in debt—”

      “Fascinating.” His voice dripped sarcasm.

      Didn’t he have even the slightest bit of humanity, even a sliver of a flesh-and-blood heart? Her throat ached as she looked away. “I can’t believe I ever loved you.”

      “Loved?” Changing gears as they sped down the boulevard, he gave a hard laugh. “It’s tacky to bring that up. Even for you.”

      Ahead of them, she saw the towering cruise ships parked like floating hotels at the pier. She blinked fast, her heart aching. She wished both she and Josie were on one of those ships, headed to Japan—or anywhere away from Vladimir Xendzov. She swallowed against the razor blade in her throat. “You can’t be serious about taking me to bed.”

      “The deal was made.”

      “What kind of man accepts a woman’s body as a prize in a card game?”

      “What kind of woman offers herself?”

      She gritted her teeth and blinked fast, staring at the Aloha Tower and the cruise ships. Without warning, Vladimir suddenly veered the Lamborghini to the right.

      Glancing behind them, Bree saw the SUV with her sister continuing straight down the Nimitz Highway, a different direction from the Lamborghini. She turned to him with a gasp.

      “Where are you taking my sister?”

      Vladimir pressed down more firmly on the gas, zooming at illegal speeds through the eerily empty streets of downtown Honolulu in the hours before dawn. “You should be more concerned about where I am taking you.”

      “You can’t separate me from Josie!”

      “And yet I have,” he drawled.

      “Take me back!”

      “Your sister has nothing to do with this,” he said coldly. “She did not wager her body.”

      Bree cursed at him with the eloquence of Black Jack Dalton himself, but Vladimir only glanced at her with narrowed eyes. “You have no power over me, Bree. Not anymore.”

      “No!” Desperate, she looked around for a handy police car—anything! But the road was empty, desolate in the darkest part of night before dawn. “I won’t let you do this!”

      “You’ll soon learn to obey me.”

      She gasped in desperate fury. Then she did the only thing she could think of to make him stop the car. Reaching between the seats, she grabbed the hand brake and yanked upwards with all her might.

      Bree’s neck jerked back and tires squealed as the fast-moving car spun out of control.

      As if in slow motion, she looked at Vladimir. She heard his low gasp, saw him fight the steering wheel, gripping until his knuckles were white. As the car spun in a hard circle, the colored lights of the city swirled around them, then shook in chaos when they bumped up over a curb. Bree screamed, throwing her hands in front of her face as the car plummeted toward a skyscraper of glass and steel.

      The red Lamborghini abruptly pulled to a stop.

      With a gulp, Bree slowly opened her eyes. When she saw how close they had come to hitting the office building, she sucked in her breath. Dazed, she reached her hand through the car’s open window toward the plate glass window, just inches away, literally close enough for her to touch. If Vladimir weren’t such a capable driver … If the car had gone a little more to the right …

      They’d have crashed through the lobby of the skyscraper in an explosion of glass.

      Her reckless desperation to save her sister had very nearly killed them both. Bree was afraid to look at him. She coughed,