The Master (The Game Maker #2)(15)

“I had to do some quick thinking since Anthony didn’t know he’d hired you yet. By the way, if he asks, you were an independent, a platinum-level producer out of Tampa.”

If you say so.

“Anyway, the Russian wants you to return to the Seltane. Now.”

Maybe the money clip had sentimental value? A gift from an ex-lover?

“Oh, Cat, he wants to book you! Do you know what this means? You’re the first girl ever to get a callback.”

“Wait, book me?”

“Da, for tonight. Anthony was calling me, and I was calling you. And when Anthony couldn’t confirm you . . . well, let’s just say that Maksimilian Sevastyan is used to getting what he wants.”

You have no idea.

“The man kept offering more and more money. Finally he demanded to buy your personal number. Anthony just called me for it.”

“Which you would never give him, right?”

At that moment, I got a text chime from a strange number: waiting

“Ivanna, we talked about this! There are boundaries.”

“We did talk about your number, about changing it. I held out for longer than even I would’ve expected, but when Anthony told me Sevastyan offered ten thousand, I caved. We’re to split half. There’s twenty-five hundred for you at the agency.” More money? “By the way, Anthony thinks your vagina is full of rainbows—and dollar signs. Aside from the Russian, you’ve gotten requests online! He wants your ‘upskirt magic’ working on other clients.”

I didn’t have magic. Sevastyan simply wanted his money back, or his clip. Or he planned to punish me for stealing from him. Maybe with a crop? “What else did you tell Anthony about me?”

“Nothing else. Mainly because I know so little. Other than the fact that you scrub toilets for a living—which might cool a billionaire’s ardor, if that got back to him. Cat, listen to me. I think you could land Sevastyan, so I’m going to do everything I can to help you, and then you’ll take care of me forever.”

“I’m not going, Ivanna.” And walk into a trap?

While she blustered, I texted Sevastyan: no dice, querido. have plans xoxo mwah

He wrote back an instant later: this isn’t a request

The man thought to intimidate me? He’d have to do better than this! Gritting my teeth, I texted: the money’s gone. regret nothing

He replied: then you’ll be needing more

There was only one way to meet this problem. Head on. I hung up on Ivanna’s tirade and dialed the Russian’s number. I opened with: “What’s your game, Sevastyan?”

“What do you think it is?”

Ay, his voice. My lids nearly closed. Then I remembered what a dick this guy was. “I think you’re pissed, and you want to teach me a lesson.”

“You did steal from me,” he said. “I had to buy a new money clip yesterday.”

“I procured a well-earned tip.” I could hear ice clinking in a glass. Having a cocktail while waiting for his cocktease?

“I would think the pleasure I gave you—three times—was its own tip.”

“Then by that reasoning, you shouldn’t have to pay for it at all, pendejo.”

“I looked that word up. Not very nice of you to call me an *. Twice. I think you’re the first woman in my adult life who’s refused to fawn over me. Right now, you sound as if you could take me or leave me.”

“Guess which way I’m leaning, Ruso.”

He chuckled at that. The sound was warm and rumbling, seeming to stroke me from the inside. What had happened to the icy Russian?

“Come over, Cat, and I’ll make you glad you did.”

Maybe he had liked sex with me that much? Had I thrown one over on the billionaire? Didn’t mean I would let him off the hook. He’d treated me like shit, left me hanging for two days, then barged into my life with all the finesse of a tidal wave. “Couldn’t find a tall blonde? I thought that was what you really wanted.” What if he hadn’t waited a day to request another girl? What if he’d screwed someone last night, intending to switch back to me? “Or maybe you booked one last night to fill your quota?”

“I didn’t book another date.”

It worried me how much that relieved me.

“No one is more surprised by these developments than I am. I told you I never reverse myself. Yet I have concerning you.”

My heart raced. I had affected him just as much as he had me.

“It seems you know me better than I know myself; you were one hundred percent certain I’d call. Here I am.” His voice had grown huskier. “Now, tell me you wouldn’t want a repeat.”

Merely thinking about him got me wet. “That’s all you want?”

“All I want?” He sounded amused. “A repeat would be a lot to hope for, no?”

What if he got all ice-cold again? Would it matter if he paid me as well as before?

Yes. He’d hurt me.

Even worse, what if he didn’t get ice-cold? Que Dios me ayude. God help me.

I did a quick risk/reward analysis. Risk: erosion of self-worth and possible infatuation. Reward: more money, and therefore more security. I’d be closer to a new identity. Great sex wasn’t unwelcome.

I just couldn’t allow myself to get caught up in him. I would put up a wall between us, keeping him at a distance.