The Master (23 page)

He remained in the dining room, peering into his drink. Had he polished off the first bottle and started on another one?

I sat beside him. “You’re hurting. I don’t like it.”

“Ah, the escort with a heart of gold.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. Was insulting me
his
way of putting distance between us? Like the boundaries I was failing to maintain? “
Por Dios
, it’s all pumpkins and
carriages with you.”

“You think me moody?”

I’d just told Ivanna about his hot and cold moods. “Yes, I do.”

My answer surprised him? “All the world considers me a silver-tongued charmer—except for my Katya.”

“Tell me what’s on your mind,
Ruso
.”

It took him a while to reply. “Ghosts of the past. You don’t want to hear my drunken ramblings.”

“Try me.”

He pushed my vodka shot toward me. “How old were you when you had that memory of making paella?”

Random question. “I was almost four.” I downed the glass, wincing less.

“What time of year was it?” Another pour for each of us.

Where was he going with this? “Right after Christmas. I remember because it was before the ‘red scarf war.’ ”

“What was that?”

Between the mojitos and the vodka, I found my tongue loosening. Or maybe the candlelit room and the sound of the ocean influenced me. Maybe this man did. “
Mima
, my grandmother,
knitted a red scarf for me, and I loved it to death, smugly wore it everywhere. I even slept in it. My mother wanted to take it away, believing it was a symbol of my pride. She often assigned
meaning to things, said nothing happened by chance.” In that, I might agree with her.

“Go on.”

“Though I was so young, I somehow knew I was fighting for more than the scarf. I could not lose that battle.” I sighed, glancing up. “I’m boring you. Your life is far too
exciting for my silly story to be of interest.”

He met my gaze, all intensity. “You will tell me the rest, Katya. Now.”

Well. I cleared my throat. “I ran from her, threatening to sail away and never come home. I hid outside past dark.
Mima
was terrified. I only weighed about thirty pounds, and it was
cold that night. She intervened with
mi madre
. When she called out that I could keep it, I came home and slept in it that night. Years later, my mother told me she regretted not taking it
from me—she was convinced she could’ve curbed my pride right in that moment. She could’ve made me meek and dutiful.”

“Then if you’d lost the war, I never would have met you.”

If not for my pride and rebelliousness, I never would’ve latched onto Edward. Though I do believe my mother had suffered from a degenerative disease—she’d presented symptoms
before Edward and Julia had descended upon us—I didn’t know how much longer she could’ve survived. “True. My life would’ve turned out very differently.”

“Do you wish you’d lost the war?”

“I don’t think I’ll know that until my entire life has played out.” I just hoped that wouldn’t be in my early twenties.

He rotated his glass on the table. “I would’ve been thirteen at that time.”

“What were you doing? Riding horses and chasing girls?”

It was like a pall fell over him. “Not at all.”

“Then what?” He didn’t answer. “Sevastyan, I’ve told you something. It’s your turn to talk.”

He finished his drink, pouring us another round. “My older brother is marrying an American girl. Roman—excuse me, he goes by
Aleksandr
now—hasn’t known her that
long. Their wedding is very rushed.”

I let Sevastyan get away with the change of subject. “How do you feel about that?”

“I understood his motivations to secure her for his own. Natalie’s lovely and kind, speaks Russian fluently, and was a PhD student. Also, she’s wealthier than I am.”

While Máxim was screwing around with the broke-ass, fugitive hooker.

Oh, to be rolling again. Though my family had never come close to having a
billion
dollars, the worth of Martinez Beach continued to skyrocket.

“Aleksandr has changed for her. For the better.” Máxim sounded contemplative, like his words only skimmed the surface of what was going on in his head. “I didn’t
think it was possible for men our age to change. What do you think? It’s your job to know men.”

“If the incentive is strong enough, I think some can change.” Just not a sociopath like Edward.

“You make it sound so simple. Aleksandr wanted her more than he wanted his old ways, so he cast them aside?” He drank his shot.

I joined him. “Maybe it is that simple.”

“He told me that he’d revealed everything of himself to her. The good and the bad. He unburdened himself, is now free of secrets.” Máxim poured yet again. “I
envied him bitterly. He also told me he knew—within a day of seeing Natalie—that he would love no other woman. That she was it for him. Do you think it’s possible for a man to
know such a thing so early?”

What a strange turn for this conversation. “I think you can have that feeling. But I don’t know if it will last.”

“If you saw the two of them together, you’d know they will stand the test of time,” he said. “Just before I flew here, I visited them in her home state of Nebraska.
He’d invited me there to ask me to be his best man.”

“Did that surprise you?”

“Utterly.”

“Is he in the
mafiya
like you?” I asked.

“In the years we were parted, he became a gunman, and I became the head of my own operation. Not quite rivals, but certainly not allies.”

“Gunman? As in a hit man?”

“He’d probably prefer the term
enforcer.
He was basically a soldier for his boss, fighting against a rival syndicate. But no longer.”

“And you want to go into business with him.”

“The more I get to know him, the more I see he is ruthless but honorable. For all his faults, he’s an honest man. The idea of partnering with someone I could actually trust is
mind-boggling to me. Together we could take over Russia. But he doesn’t trust
me
yet. Two months ago, he feared having his fiancée in the same room with me.”

“Why would he ask you to be his best man?”

“At Natalie’s prodding, I’m sure.”

“Why did he feel that way about you?”

“He heard I’d turned into a callous man who enjoyed playing with others’ lives. He believed I had grown up to take after our father—or at least the coldhearted, scheming
side of him. We despised our father.”

Had that man whipped Máxim’s back? “Was Aleksandr right about you? Being scheming and coldhearted?”

He gave a humorless laugh. “Yes. It’s called being a politician. Though I do admit to goading Aleksandr. When he thought me a danger to him, I gave him no reason to disbelieve it.
Not for many years.”

A danger? “Why?”

“Maybe because it amused me.”

Por Dios.
“Why were you separated from your brothers?”

He skirted the question, saying, “Only from one. Dmitri and I remain close.”

They talked often enough.

“With Natalie at his side, Aleksandr improves. But Dmitri . . .” He trailed off. “What?”

“He’s angry and damaged by events in the past. I struggle with accepting that he always will be.”

Those same events must have something to do with Máxim’s scars. Did Dmitri bear similar ones? Did Aleksandr? “I’m sorry.”

“I sit in the middle between two brothers. One tells me the future can be bright, and the other tells me the past will darken all of our days. What do you have to say about
that?”

“Both could be right. It all depends on what kind of man
you
are.”

Quiet.

“Máxim, what if Dmitri turned his life around, despite his past? A sword has to know the anvil and hammer just to be born, no? What if he realized that if he could overcome whatever
makes him angry and damaged, the victory could be the very thing that makes him stronger?” I could only hope this for myself.
Better things await you. . . .

“Understand me,” Sevastyan grated, “I would do
anything
for that.”

“Would you? Then why don’t you do it first, then show him how?”

A gust of breath left his lips. “You led me right into that, didn’t you?”

I held his gaze. “Somebody needed to.”

He stared at me, silent, for what felt like an hour. Then he abruptly rose and left the room.

“You’re welcome for dinner,” I muttered. “So glad you enjoyed it. Same time next year?” Furious with myself for thinking we’d been making progress, I headed
to the torchlit balcony.

The air was as warm as on our first night in the pool. At the balcony rail, I gazed out.

Somewhere down the beach, a band played Latin music, soft strains reaching me. Sailboats dotted the dark water, their masts alight for Christmas.

I heard him joining me. Without a word or a touch he stood behind me, so close I could perceive the heat from his body.

We stayed like that for long moments. The temptation to sink back against him and tug his arms around me grew irresistible.

Movement. I blinked down. He’d draped a breathtaking string of pearls around my neck. Each pearl gleamed in the torchlight. The strand must have cost a fortune. Why would he give me
this?

His lips brushed across my nape in the tenderest kiss.

This was what he’d been debating all day! He’d vacillated about whether to give the escort a present, then left to pick it up.

When he turned to go, I caught his hand. “Why?”

He pulled away, but I heard him mutter, “Because this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

“H
ere,” Sevastyan said gruffly as he handed me a state-of-the-art laptop.

It was Christmas morning, day eight of my retreat, and I’d been reading a business journal on the couch when he approached. “Another gift?” I was happier that he was talking to
me than I was over the new computer.

Last night, before I could ask him anything, he’d left the hotel in a T-shirt and shorts, coming back two hours later, sweating and sandy. I’d been disappointed to miss a chance to
run with him on the beach. Then he’d introduced me to aggressive, teeth-clattering, sweaty-man sex, and I’d forgiven him.

“Yes, another gift,” he said.

“Then
spasiba
, Máxim.” Oh, I could tell the Russian liked that.

“
Pozhaluysta.
You’re quite welcome. But it comes with a catch. There’s a folder of real estate proposals that have been submitted to me.” He sat beside me, all
casual, setting up his own laptop. “I’m going to assess them. If you like, you can look at them as well, and give me your take.”

“You want my opinion?”

“As long as I have you here, I’ll take advantage of your brain.”

As long as he had me. How long, how long, how long? That reminded me of our ongoing mirror messages. In answer to my
gonna miss this ass
note, he’d written:
Good thing I own that
ass.

I’d replied:
The door will hit it on my way out.

Though I’d tried to sound like my heart was still bulletproof, I could see myself
falling
for this guy. Not just an attachment. The real deal.

No, no, Cat.
In three days, we’d be going our separate ways; I only had to resist him till then. Besides, my impulse to fall meant I should do no such thing.
Science!
“You know this computer has Wi-Fi. You’re trusting me not to send out an e-mail SOS?”

“
Da.
”

What had brought about this turnaround? “We’re going to . . . work together? Vetting proposals?” I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face.

“You’re happier than you were the day you ordered all your new things. The prospect of work trumps your bout of consumerism?”

“Absolutely.”

“You’ll look at them, then? And you won’t give me fifteen pages of
fuck you fuck you fuck you
?”

My grin deepened. “I will look at these, just to keep you straight. After all, if you lose your fortune, I’ll have nothing to swindle from you.”

The left corner of his lips curved. “Have your fun. Then do your bloody work. . . .”

For hours, we read as a breeze blew in off the ocean. By midday, I had a pencil in my bun, his hair was mussed, and my feet rested on his thighs. Again I felt that strange level of ease with
him, that sense of déjà vu. I still made a valiant effort to keep up my last boundary, but being with him like this was a battering ram to any wall I tried to maintain.

At lunch, we took a break, enjoying sex, leftovers, and coffee, then set back to work. I was able to go online and look up rents and property taxes, liens and foreclosures.

By sunset, there were printouts all over the floor, and I’d decided this was my best Christmas Day ever.

“Did you make any headway?” He rolled his head on his neck.

I slid him a cocky grin. “I completed cursory determinations on all nine proposals,
querido.
I was about to play solitaire while I waited on you.”

“Let’s see them.”

“You want to read them? Now?” I was suddenly nervous.