Baby Of His Revenge

“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 (#ud5e2edd4-fba3-56f0-a5a9-720accfe8d33)

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.