The Master (The Game Maker #2)(67)

That got Máxim to laugh, while Aleksandr just looked baffled. Finally he said, “Natalie is going to like you very well. And please call me Aleks.”

After another couple of stilted exchanges, Máxim and I started back to our room.

As we made our way up the stairs, I asked him, “Why was he so shocked?”

“He’s never seen me like this.”

“Happy?”

Máxim paused on a step, seeming as shocked as Aleks had just been. “Happy,” he repeated, as if he were turning the word over in his mind, tasting it. “I suppose I am.”

“You enjoyed his surprise. It amused you. Is my presence here solely to screw with people?”

“Though I was perversely pleased by Aleksandr’s surprise, I brought you here because I want you with me. Simple as that.” He leaned down to say, “And already, you’re glad you came. In both senses of the word.”


I was attending a Nebraskan dinner in a countryside lodge as the date of a Russian mafiya sex god. What exactly did one wear to an occasion like that? I hoped I’d picked the right outfit.

My simple black pencil skirt accentuated my ass without being too tight. But my copper-colored blouse was a work of art. It was a cold-shoulder design with a scoop neck and long blouson sleeves that were cut out to reveal my arms from my shoulders to my elbows. The back dipped low, almost to my racy new bra, and was held in place by a string (which I hoped Máxim would spend all night thinking about untying). My black, strappy heels were high—because of my date’s height.

Saving the pearls for the ceremony, I wore the lock-and-key earrings. I left my hair down, curling loosely. All that time by the pool had highlighted strands to a caramel color, and I wanted to show them off.

My makeup was understated, a touch of tawny eye shadow, mascara, and a bit of shimmery blush. The burnished gloss on my lips picked up the play of light on my blouse. My black clutch had a small copper medallion in the center.

Holding my breath, I walked out of the dressing room to join Máxim. “Te gusta? You like?”

“Me gusta,” he murmured, immediately frowning. “I’m usually smoother than this, but you have a habit of making my mind go blank.” He crossed to me, wrapping an arm around my waist. “I could not be prouder to show you off.”

I petted the lapel of his black suit. The lines were so classic and crisp, he looked like he’d stepped out of a magazine ad. “When you burn through all of your money, you can be a model.”

With a grin, he said, “It’s good to have a backup plan.”

“How much did your suit cost?”

“The price of this one gave even me pause.” And he would wear it once. Sometimes his wealth blew my mind.

He grazed his forefinger against one of my earrings. “The lock-and-key ones. Do they make you think of me?”

“Only every time they kiss my neck.” Oh, I could tell he liked that.

He offered his arm. “Come, let’s go. Before I say to hell with this and take you to bed.”

His smoldering look made me very aware that I wore garters and stockings for him later.

I took his arm, and we headed downstairs toward the Grand Hall. As I’d dried my hair, I’d studied the fire escape plan to note exits, a habit born of self-preservation. I now knew the layout of the lodge.

In the reception area outside the hall, dressed-up people mingled. At the outskirts of the room, men in understated suits stood alone, near all the exits. I recognized two of them from Miami. I just stopped myself from waving.

“I see your security, Máxim. Is Nebraska a hotbed of mob hits?”

“Better safe than sorry.” He covered my hand on his arm. “The Sevastyans have much here that is precious to them.”

“Where’s Vasili?”

“Overseeing everything. He excels at this.”

We’d barely gotten downstairs before a redhead intercepted us, almost as if she’d been lying in wait. “So you’re Maksim’s mysterious date! I’m Natalie.”

She was my height, with flawless pale skin, flame-red hair, and a sexpot figure. The green-eyed billionairess PhD student was a knockout. Because that wasn’t intimidating or anything. Her engagement ring had a diamond the size of a meteorite.

Aleks joined her. “This is Cat Marín. She’s actually with Maksim.”

I stepped forward, offering my hand: “Hi.”

Natalie hugged me. “Oh, you’re freaking gorgeous!” She was sweet on top of everything?

When my cheeks heated, Máxim appeared charmed. In social situations like this, I tended to be more demure at first—a far cry from how I behaved with him. “Thank you,” I told Natalie. “I can’t wait to see your dress. You’re going to be the most beautiful bride.” Having met her—and knowing her past—I hoped she had the WOTC, wedding of the century.

Another girl our age slinked over. Must be Jessica. She looked like a runway princess with her svelte frame and cropped black hair. She wore a clearly expensive outfit: a red miniskirt, thigh-high boots, and a silvery halter. No bra. The girl raked her blue eyes over me. “OH-la, fineness. I’m Jess. Why are you sober, hot mamí?” She shoved one of her two drinks into my hand. “This ought to take care of the issue. Don’t say I never gave you anything.”