The Player (The Game Maker #3)(37)

He shrugged. “It’s not something we lead with.”

I put my elbow on the table and rested my chin on my hand. “Your brother charged a loaded gun for her?”

“Da.” Now Dmitri couldn’t look prouder. “He was ready to give his life for her. How could I deny what that meant?”

So Maksim was part of the three percent. Had his younger brother been cut from the same cloth? “What about Aleks? You’re not as close to him?”

“Before one year ago, I did not speak to him.” The mended fence. Yet another of Dmitri’s changes that had taken place around that time. “I had not even been in the same room with him in decades, not since we were young.”

“Why?” I couldn’t imagine being estranged like that from a loved one. Sure, my family could frustrate me, but they would lay down their lives for me in a heartbeat. Just as I’d do for any of them.

“He was not there for me when I very badly needed him to be.” Dmitri gazed away, the wheels of his complicated mind turning.

Oh, yes, this man had been hurt. And he’d longed for his oldest brother to have helped him in some way. Dmitri’s history was a puzzle, but I could be patient, easing information from him here and there.

Yet then I frowned. I only had eighteen days with him, at best. Surely, he’d be called back to Russia soon. “I’m sorry, Dmitri. But you’ve since worked things out with Aleks, right?”

“Yes, we’ve reconciled,” he said, his thoughts still clearly mired in the past.

I wanted to jolt him back to the present. With me. “Hey, big guy, did you have a near-death experience about a year ago?”

His gaze snapped to my face. “Why would you say that?”

“You started talking to Aleks, you began working out, and you got the idea to try BDSM. You also got pierced.” So that things would be different. “Did you make any other changes?”

“Yes. Many. It was time for me to.” Making his tone lighter, he said, “Come, let’s speak of happier things. If you didn’t work at the Calydon, what would you do?”

He hadn’t answered my near-death question, but I let it go. “I would design and create clothing. I made this dress you both love and hate. I make all my clothes.”

He raised his brows. “You must want to pursue your talent.”

Another instance of gazing at the stars. I was past that.

Even if my pack wasn’t in crisis mode, I needed health insurance, for f*ck’s sake. At the very least, my own personal credit-card cloning machine wouldn’t go amiss. Please, Santa, please.

Everyone in my family was sacrificing. We all had dreams we’d put on hold. Karin wanted to save up and be a full-time mom. Al and Gram had been planning to go on a world cruise to fleece obnoxious tourists and teach them never to travel again. Mom and Dad dreamed of owning a real art collection to replace the scam props littering the house. Benji, with his artistic soul, wanted to pick up a camera and document wildlife, instead of degenerates. And Pete . . .

Actually, Pete was delighted with his plum new position at the Caly.

I told Dmitri, “We all have dreams, huh?”

He canted his head. “I am starting to believe that.”

The server came back to refill our wine. Had I downed a glass? I struggled to resist Dmitri in the best of circumstances. If I had a couple of drinks, he could make me plead for it. Again.

The idea of begging turned me on so swiftly, my face grew heated once more.

“Tell me about your hobbies,” he said. “Do you ride horses?”

Eyes on the prize, Vice. “Um, not in a while.” Not since we’d worked a real estate con near a ranch in neighboring California. My family had hated being away from Vegas; not me. “Do you ride?”

“I once did, avidly. I’m thinking about picking it up again.” Must be nice. “Do you like the seaside?”

“Dunno. I’ve never been to one.”

“How can that be? Would you like to travel more?”

“Sure. We have so many replicas of other places here. I’d love to see the Giza pyramids or a real castle or the Eiffel Tower. Just getting a first stamp in my passport would be huge for me.” Hell, I’d be happy to drive back to Cali. I always said if I won the lottery I’d get a vacation place there. “But I could never stay away long. My family’s here. Sunday dinner is mandatory. You only get to miss a few a year.”

“You must be very close to them.”

“They’re everything to me.”

“You are loyal to those you love,” he said quietly.

“I will be till I die.” I had a catalog of faults, but I possessed loyalty in spades. Once I identified someone as part of my pack, I always would. “‘To the grave’ is our family motto.” That also described how long we Valentines kept secrets.

Dmitri’s lips almost curved again, the closest that man came to smiling, and he raised his glass to me. “A toast to loyalty.”

I clinked glasses with him.

The intensity of his stare made me feel awkward, so I cast about for something to say. “I couldn’t find much about you online.”

“I work to keep it that way.”

As I suspected. So what was he hiding? More than his eccentricity? “Are you a ‘have more than thou showest, say less than thou knowest’ kind of guy?” Grifters lived by those words.