The Master (The Game Maker #2)(80)

“It can’t be helped.” He exhaled. “Dmitri could not be more damaged. Every move he makes to get better seems to entrap him more deeply in the past.”

“Does he have anyone in his life? A partner? Friends?”

“He’s incapable of a relationship. We were alike in that, commiserating over it. While I had my script, he’d developed what he calls protocols. They are more far-reaching, even . . . absolute.” He opened his mouth to say more, then paused. “You will meet him. I don’t want to color your perception any more.”

What more could there be? But I said, “I understand.”

“He blames Aleksandr for abandoning us. As eldest, Aleksandr had been a father to Dmitri. Then he was gone.”

“Is that why you said you resented him?”

“I used to hate him, imagining his carefree life under the protection of a good man like Kovalev. Yet I learned recently that Aleksandr lived on the streets before Kovalev adopted him. Among so many homeless children, he was an outsider. He’d been raised with privilege—abused, yes, but wealthy—and he talked little by nature. Being alone meant he also had . . . trials, was in no way freed when he left us. In fact, he used to believe he’d been singled out for torment. After finding Natalie, he believes he was tested so he would become strong enough to protect her—that the purpose of his life was always to safeguard hers and ensure her happiness. What do you think of that?”

I softly asked, “How do we know that isn’t true? If you believe everything happens for a reason . . .”

He seemed to mull this over. “For decades, I could see no reason for my own trials as a boy. Insomnia plagued me. My appetite was deadened; I could take or leave food, deriving no enjoyment from it. My hypersensitive skin made touch unbearable. For years, I had to grit my teeth just to wear a shirt. Even when I improved physically, my mind wasn’t ready to let go. If anyone got close to touching my skin, I’d feel as if my chest was caving in.”

Just like mine did when I practiced revealing my past. “But things are different with you now. You have a sweet tooth. You sleep soundly.” I whispered, “I touch you.”

“I told Aleks of these developments, seeking his opinion.”

How odd to hear a man as self-reliant as Máxim getting another’s take. But then, Aleks was his big brother, newly reunited with him. “What did he say?”

“He believes a man knows his woman because he begins to evolve for her, to become what she needs. You told me if the incentive was strong enough, some men could change. Aleksandr wanted Natalie more than he wanted his old ways, so he cast them aside. Isn’t that what you believe?”

“Yes.”

“I sensed something was different about you before we touched, solnyshko. When you grinned over your wineglass and told me the view from the Seltane penthouse was ‘adequate,’ I got a chill—because I had the impulse to grin. I responded to you as I never have to another, and it unnerved me.” Máxim grazed his fingers along my cheekbone. “All those years ago, when I was down in that basement, I wish I had known that on the other side of the world, there was a bold little girl fighting for her pride. And that she would come into my life one day to make it brighter.”

With a press of my lips to his forehead, I said, “Now I know that in the snowy north of Siberia, a boy was becoming a man under the harshest possible conditions.” How could Máxim have grown so confident? So at ease with power? So remarkable in every way?

He said, “You told me it happened, it hurt, and better things await me. Do they? Am I becoming what you need, Katya?”

I drew a shaky breath. “Maybe you can move on now that you’re different? Maybe you want to move on?”

He was silent for long moments, seeming to make a decision. Finally he asked, “Was this too much for you to hear?”

“No. But I hurt with you.” For the scared boy he’d been. For the man dealing with his brother’s anguish. And his own.

“I do feel . . . better. Lighter. Aleks was right. It’s a burden lifted. I would’ve had to tell you eventually, so I’m relieved it’s done.”

Because he was that certain we’d be together? My heart clamored. I wanted this man so much! He was the yearning.

“If I’d known you’d react this way, I wouldn’t have dreaded the telling so much.”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

“And you’ll give me yours in return. So we can move forward.”

Dios mío. I swallowed with nervousness. How could I not trust him?

I might have told Máxim even now—or tried to utter the words—but the look in his eyes said he needed something completely different from me. He wanted to lose himself inside me. To know pleasure and bury pain. I wanted to give him whatever he needed.

As he took me in his arms, I decided that once we got back to Miami, I was going to trust him too.

My heart skipped a beat when I realized, I’ll have to tell him eventually.

After the wedding, I’d tell him everything.





CHAPTER 32




When I kissed Máxim good-bye that afternoon, he blinked open his eyes.

After making love twice, he and I had ordered room service, then fallen asleep again. I’d gotten up and dressed before he’d awakened.