The Master (The Game Maker #2)(96)

The design was modern, with an abundance of oversize windows, the stucco tropics-white. Lush landscaping abounded.

Inside, I turned in circles. The décor was warm and inviting. Tasteful art adorned the walls. The ceilings soared, giving the rooms an airy feel. Plush rugs softened the acoustics.

In the living room, an entire wall opened to the outside—and a breathtaking pool. A green lawn sprawled down to a beach and lapping blue waves. A cigarette boat hung in a lift.

“Te gusta?” he asked.

“We can live here today? It’s krasavitza. Beautiful!” I crossed to him.

He smiled at my Russian word. “You’re already moved in. I wasn’t joking about the kitchen spices. For the future, there’s a treadmill and the yard is fenced. Though maybe you’d like somewhere else better? We could stay in Jacksonville, or the North Pole, or wherever St. Bernards serve brandy.”

I grinned up at him. “I like it here. But don’t you need to live in Russia?”

“Aleksandr wants to go into business. He has totally changed his mind about me. He could take over things in Russia, and I could expand here. In fact, you and I could start operations in this very house.”

I was already heading into phase four of my life plan? “How many briefcases of cash did this place cost?”

“Many. But the markets were good—today we are billionaires. We should reward ourselves.”

“Okay, but when do I get to visit the motherland?”

“Once you’re fully recovered. Our estate there is beautiful in the spring.” He grazed his knuckles along my jawline. “I want you to meet Dmitri as well.”

I smoothed the lapel of Máxim’s blazer. “Won’t he hate me?”

“He called when you were in surgery, and I was out of my head with worry. I didn’t bother trying to hide how frantic I was. When I called to tell him you were better, he said, ‘You love her. I will meet her.’ This is huge for him.”

“Then count me in.”

“I let him know that I will always be there for him, but things have changed. My focus will be on the future.” Máxim’s eyes were full of promise. “Come, I want you to see some things in your closets.”

The spaces weren’t closets—they were rooms, each one with new swag and clothes! He leaned against the doorway, content to watch me explore. When I found my red scarf, I closed my eyes in relief.

“You should look at that new wallet as well.” He pointed to one of several.

I opened it. Credit cards filled all the slots. “Aww. Did you get me pin money?”

“Only in the checking. The savings is yours.”

Wait . . . I looked at the ID. “This is me!” The picture was from my former license. Oh, I looked so young! “You got the Hatcher taken off so quickly! I’m officially me again.”

With that gleam I loved so well, he said, “Maybe you can still be Cat and Katya—on occasion.”

I traipsed closer to him. “This kitten will want a lot of toys. Let’s dedicate a room.”

He inhaled sharply. “Sí, let’s do that. For now, you have more exploring to do. Your jewelry.”

All my previous bling was organized, along with tons more. Among my pearls and gold was my mother’s rosary. “Oh, Máxim, you got it back?” When the import of what I’d regained truly hit me, I would surely lose my shit. In a way, that rosary had been on as wild a trip as I had.

“Of course.” He took my hand. “When you feel like it, you can decide what you want to do with your home in Jacksonville as well.”

“I wish the place would be the same, just minus that one room.”

He raised his brows, as if to say challenge accepted.

As we strolled toward the pool, I said, “I got the strangest text from Ivanna this morning. From what I could decipher, she wrote that her family would be in the States by the end of next week. And that her new place was amazing.” (hus s amzasng!1) “You know anything about that?”

He shrugged. “If she hadn’t sent you to me . . . I am very beholden to her—and to Botox in general.”

“She was a little pissed that I hadn’t asked for help, but she understood too.” I already had a friend in Miami! “She also texted that Anthony closed up shop and is on the run from the mafiya.”

A raised brow. “I will prolong that for as many years as it pleases you.” Beside the pool, he sat on a lounge chair, then gingerly pulled me into his lap. Sun bathed us in light, dappling the blue water beyond.

“When do you think we’ll christen this chair, Ruso?”

He groaned. “Unfortunately, not for a while.”

“I understand, baby boy. After all, you were shot. And at your age too?” I fake-winced. “But I’m sure they’ll clear you for duty”—I wriggled over the growing bulge in his lap—“eventually.”

His voice was husky. “Little witch.”

“I guess I’ll give you a reprieve because you took a bullet for me.”

“I’d do it to eternity to have this moment. Though you know I won’t rest until you’re mine in every way.”

“It’s you for me, Ruso. You are stuck with me. But what if I want to wait awhile before thinking about marriage?” Even with the man of my dreams, I didn’t want to rush things.