The Player (The Game Maker #3)(51)

I forced myself to hold his gaze. “The property’s stunning, Dmitri.” He was stunning. “I’m pretty sure I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

Never taking his eyes off me, he said, “I am certain I have.”





CHAPTER 22

“What do you think?” I asked Dmitri, modeling a bikini I’d designed.

He’d been doing laps in the heated pool while I’d gotten settled and changed, but he treaded water to avidly view my suit. His expression said, Are you kidding me?

A cutout in the center of the black bandeau top displayed my cleavage. The red thong bottom had a flirty tie on each side for even easier access. I turned in a circle for him.

Voice rumbling, he said, “I think I am going to enjoy being married very, very much.” He swam to the steps. “And this is further evidence you’re an exhibitionist. Did you design it?”

“I did.” I’d packed the bikini, having no idea it’d be part of my freaking trousseau. “It’s made of . . .” I lost track of what I’d been saying when he emerged from the water.

He wore board shorts that hung low on his narrow hips, a dive watch, and nothing else. Drops sluiced over his rugged muscles, his rigid pecs and washboard abs. He was semihard and growing.

The sight of him swindled my breath yet again. I wanted more of what he’d given me, craved to touch every inch of that body.

“Do you want something to drink or eat?” he asked.

“Hmm? Oh.” Gourmet snacks had been arranged on the outdoor dining table in an enticing display, along with a champagne bucket. “Champagne sounds great.”

He crossed to the table, shaking out his hair in such a guy way; reminders that he was a mere mortal thrilled me.

He inspected the vintage, then popped open the bottle. After pouring two flutes, he gave me one and took my free hand in exchange. “Watch the sun set with me, moya zhena.”

“What does that mean?”

He led me to the steaming hot tub. “My wife.”

Heart thud. “Sure. Why not?” I sank into the warm water, sitting beside him on the bench. “Your bodyguards aren’t going to be coming around, are they? I might be an exhibitionist, but not with your employees.”

He’d already sent the chef, assistant, and the housekeeper home for a couple of days.

“Understood. Our bodyguards have a house on the property, and monitor security through cameras.”

“Cameras?” I frowned over my shoulder.

“Only on the other side. No one can approach the house by land without being monitored, but we have privacy on the ocean side. Motion sensors only.”

“The place is seriously high-tech.” Earlier, he’d introduced me to the house. You could talk to it: “Lights.” “I’m cold.” “Music.”

His expression was amused, eyes crinkling at the sides. “Well, I am a tech genius.”

I grinned. “I don’t even know what you used to do.”

“I’ll explain my work soon. And you can teach me about clothing design.”

Would I be here long enough? Pang.

With a sigh, I turned toward the ocean, taking a generous sip from my flute. Right now my family was celebrating with the bubbly too. Cheers, guys. Go Muppets.

I wished they could see this sunset. Rays blazed over the water, setting it aflame, and I had a front-row seat.

Because of Dmitri Sevastyan. He’d wanted me to draw back curtains for him? He was drawing them back for me.

“I believe the display is best when there are low storm clouds,” he said. “We’ll have rain soon.”

“It looks too wild to be real.” That dreamy sense persisted.

“The night you and I met, I imagined watching a sunset here with you.”

I faced him with a smile, thinking he was kidding.

But his sunstruck eyes held my gaze. “With my first sight of you, I was done-in. All this shining blond hair and these shapely curves drew my eyes like a magnet. You looked like an angel to me. One with an edge.” An edge? He should see me sharp cards. “My chest tightened, and my pulse raced.”

“Really?” No nails-over-chalkboard sensation. He was telling the truth.

He nodded. “When I registered the blue of your eyes, I believed I was having a heart attack. I thought I would die—with you as my last sight.”

Intense man! My flute shook on the way to my lips. I’d already drained it?

“Our courtship might have been brief, but it was grueling all the same—because I’ve never wanted anything so badly, and I knew I would get only one shot at winning you.”

“I understand you were attracted to me, but don’t you have a history of pursuing something all hot and heavy, then losing interest? It kind of sounded like that happened with your computer work.”

He took my empty glass, setting his and mine aside. The muscles in his damp forearm flexed and something caught my attention. I squinted, able to make out the faintest scar running across his wrist, then up his arm.

The first hint of an imperfection on this man’s body. From a surgery?

Before I could ask, he said, “I had goals I wanted to accomplish in my career, and once I did, I turned over my work. My goal with you will take a lifetime to achieve.”

“What goal?”