The Professional: Part 2 (The Game Maker #1.2)(9)

Instead of answering me, he said, “This is a done thing, Natalie. Everything will work out if you trust me.”

The groom’s voice sounded outside.

Sevastyan tugged his wet shirt on, then reached for his coat. “I will tell your father that we are together. When he speaks to you, you’ll tell him the same.”

Simple. Clean. Permanent.

To live in a new country, in a new world, with a man I hardly knew. In a new life I wasn’t convinced was better than my old one.

“Trust you and everything will work out? That’s just another way of saying you know what’s best for me. Or worse, that you know better than me.”

“In this, I do. You don’t have the experience to know that what just happened here—and in the closet, and on the plane—is the rarest exception, not the rule.”

I was bristling. “Again, you’re saying you know better than me.”

“You’re a smart girl. You’re going to replay everything we’ve done, and you’re going to reach the same conclusion I have.” He moved in close, leaning down to kiss my jawline and lower.

“And wh-what conclusion is that?” When had he discovered how sensitive my neck was? With one spot in particular . . .

He pressed his lips directly to my pulse point, making my knees weak. “Eto ne izbezhno dlya nas.” You and I are inevitable.

Focus, Natalie! How could I still desire him when his high-handedness was unbearable? “An asteroid hitting the earth is inevitable! Or an active volcano erupting. Bad things are inevitable.”

Drawing back, he gazed down at me. “No, powerful things are,” he said as he captured my hand—to drag me out into the real world.



At Berezka’s front entrance, Sevastyan walked me to the doors. I was suddenly aware of all the activity around us. Was it just me, or had the groundskeepers paused their raking to watch Sevastyan and me interact?

A couple of brigadiers emerged from the house. They stopped short and stared at my bedraggled appearance—before the warning in Sevastyan’s eyes made them slink away.

Turning back to me, Sevastyan said, “I’m going to speak to Paxán after dinner.”

I was still half-dazed. “I haven’t accepted this. You.”

“Trust me, pet.” He curled his forefinger under my chin, then leaned down to give me a kiss that anyone could see.

Which was his admitted plan. I thought it’d be a brief good-bye kiss, a toll I would grudgingly accept to get into the house as quickly as possible.

Instead, Sevastyan seemed bent on starting that fire in me once more. He took my mouth fiercely, giving me hot, seeking flicks of his tongue. It was a down-and-dirty kiss, with one objective: slay my resistance.

Which it did.

His hands descended to my hips, squeezing me against his body as his mouth consumed mine. Our tongues sparred until I was gripping his shoulders, wanting to get even closer to his unyielding heat.

As ever, his kiss had a way of blanking my mind, of filling me with a sense that all was well—even when I knew all was futhermucked. . . .

When he finally broke away, leaving me panting and shaken, he smirked. “Lie to yourself all you like, but you’ve definitely accepted me.” Masculine satisfaction emanated from him. His bearing wouldn’t have been amiss on an Olympic podium.

Triumphant. Victorious male.

Was that why I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d been defeated?

When I opened the door with a wobbling step, he swatted my ass. I tossed a bewildered look over my shoulder, surprised as much by the unexpected love tap as by this playful side.

“Go inside and get warm, Natalie. And relax, this is a good thing.”

Then he was gone, leaving my lips bruised and my mind in turmoil. Lost in my thoughts, I made my way up the stairs—

I started when Filip stepped in front of me on the landing.

There was fury in his eyes. “Have fun with the guard dog?”





Chapter 22




“I’ve been so worried about you!” Jess exclaimed when I called her that night.

“Really?” I’d kind of been worried about myself after Filip’s meltdown just hours ago. “What’s up?”

“Gee, I don’t know, maybe the fact that some mafiya thug wants to off my best friend.”

Oh, that. “Then why didn’t you call me on the new number I gave you?”

“How the hell do you call Russia from Greece? It’s like trying to figure out rela-f*cking-tivity. And still, I gave it several shots. Of Ouzo. Seriously, you have no idea how much your situation is affecting me. I’ve been stress-eating my way across Greece.”

I frowned. “You don’t stress-eat—”

“Cock, Natalie. I was stress-eating cock. There, you made me say it, happy now?”

“Opa!”

“Twat.”

“Bitch.” Despite my foul mood, I had to check a grin. “I take it your trip was a success.”

“Of course it was. But I don’t want to talk about me, Richie Rich. I wanna know that you’re safe.”

Define “safe.” “I’ve been perfectly fine.”

She took me at my word. “So give me the details then! Tell me all about your gangster rumspringa.”