The Master (11 page)

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Authors: Kresley Cole

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As we caught our breath, he clasped me possessively, both arms locked around my body. “Yet again, I didn’t make it to the bed.”

I couldn’t stop pressing appreciative kisses over his cheek, his lips, his neck. “You regret that?”

He lowered his forehead to mine, seeming to bask in my kisses. “Never.”

We met gazes when he began to stiffen again.

“My satiation didn’t last long.” With a muttered curse, he eased out from me, setting me on my feet. He removed the condom, zipped up his pants, then headed to the hall
bathroom to dispose of it.

That was
too
good. I needed to get out of here—before I fell deeper under his spell.

When he returned, I’d already put on my coat, belting it over my ruined dress.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I told you I couldn’t stay for long.”

“Oh, no. I meant what I said. I’m booking you for the rest of the night.” His tone was all commanding:
So says the king.

He strode to the bar, selecting a bottle of champagne.

“Celebrating something?”


We
will be. You’re going to show me fun.”

I hesitated. I could stay here, toasting champagne with him, or return home, tripping through murky parking lots to reach my pathetic apartment.

An entire night with him?
Boundaries. I can do this.
I’d still leave town next Monday. I’d
have
to. I’d never break my third rule to stay on the move. I believed
that was the only reason I was still alive.

Besides, Sevastyan would make this easy for me. After a whole night together, the player would grow tired of me and send my ass packing.

“Ah, you’ve decided to stay,” he said, reading me so well.

“I worry though. I don’t know if you can handle my brand of fun.”

His full, open smile was
devastating
. Better than in pictures. “One way to find out.”

I slipped off my heels and jacket. I unzipped the remains of my dress, stepping out of it. He appeared enthralled as I wriggled from my thong.

Naked, I sashayed in his direction, breasts swaying. On my way to the pool, I trailed my finger over his chest. “Your life’s about to be changed.” I ran and dove in.

When I broke the surface of the water, he was still groaning.

CHAPTER 11

“Y
ou’re not drinking as much as I am,” I told him from the shallow end. “Are you trying to take advantage of
me?”

He sat nearby at the edge of the pool, feet on the top step, wearing only his unbuttoned shirt and gray boxer briefs that highlighted the strength of his legs and his erect shaft. For some
reason, he’d stopped undressing after his pants.

“I’ll pay you a thousand dollars if you tell me something more about yourself.”

I turned on my back, floating, savoring the heated salt water. “Like what?”

“What do you want out of life?”

So much! Phase one was atonement, and phase two was disappearing. Phase three entailed getting a career and friends and a social life. Maybe once I had a new identity these things would be
possible. World domination was a distant phase four.

I faced him again, smoothing my hair back. “A house. A yard. A dog to run in the yard. A kitchen with tons of spices, all organized how I like them.”

“Demanding creature, aren’t you?”

“Ha.” I wished hourly for some way to free myself from Edward.

“No man in that scenario?”

I never yearned for a relationship, since I was always preoccupied with survival. Plus, once burned, twice shy. Yet even before Edward had turned murderous, I’d been so disenchanted with
men—and stunned by my own bad taste in them.

The love I’d thought I’d felt for him disappeared so totally, I doubted I’d ever loved him at all.

I swam closer to Sevastyan, settling on one of the steps. “Any man in my life would have to like my house. And my dog would have to like him. I would have a very discerning dog.”

He chuckled. Oh, I enjoyed that sound. “Stringent requirements.”

“And you?” I asked.

“I used to want only power. Now I’m not sure. My political term is ending, and I’m letting it.”

“Why?”

“It requires me to be in Russia more than I’d prefer.”

“Don’t you like it there?”

“In winter? I despise it,” he said, the words seeming to skim the surface of what he was thinking. “I might stay in Miami, buying and selling this town. I like it
here.”

He would move here right when I was leaving? How unfair.
Cool yo jets, Cat!

“You could teach me Spanish.”

Okay, now he was just playing with me. “Sure. Say
cállate la boca.

He repeated the phrase. “What does that mean?”

“Shut up.”

“You’re teaching me how to tell you to shut up?”


Por Dios, no.
You must understand when I tell
you
that.”

He laughed out loud, reaching out to pull me forward till I was standing between his bent legs. “I enjoy your humor, your playfulness. You’re like a
kotyonok
, a little
kitten—”

Vasili suddenly appeared on the pool deck, gaze alert, hand on the gun in his holster.

Máxim twisted to conceal me, and I sidled up to his back. Another laugh rumbled from his chest. “So unused to the sound of my amusement, he comes running.”

“He could hear us?” I whispered.

“He must be making the rounds. I’ve booked the two stories below for him and his men. Vasili oversees all three floors.”

“Oh.” A small army of
mafiya
henchmen must be nice. All I had to protect myself was continual movement, a dead bolt, and a prayer. “Do you need this much security? Or is
this more of an entourage situation?”

“I don’t think I’m under an acute threat right now. But the show of might deters some foes, and extra men always come in handy.” Sevastyan said something in Russian, and
Vasili left. “Did seeing the gun bother you?”

“I don’t know.” My sole experience with one had been horrifying.

Bent on uncovering Edward’s ace in the hole, I’d retrieved my father’s commemorative pistol, a gift from the Cuban government. I’d loaded the accompanying bullets,
planning to shoot the ceiling to get Edward’s attention, like they did in movies. I’d also grabbed my mother’s rosary and donned it for courage.

At the end of the night, I’d been drenched in blood, fleeing a madman.

I swallowed.
Shake it off, Cat.
I told Sevastyan, “It must be reassuring to be so protected. . . .” I trailed off. I’d dampened the material of Máxim’s
shirt and could make out marks on his back. Unable to stop myself, I tugged his shirt from one shoulder.

Muttering something that sounded like, “
Get this over with,
” he yanked it off.

I gasped. Scars covered his back from his neck down to his hips—crisscrossing lines of them, as if he’d been whipped—repeatedly. What the hell had happened to him? Who could
have done that? No wonder he had issues with touching!

He rose and turned with his shoulders squared, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He grated, “Ask me what happened.”

I was the last person in the world to ask about something so personal. “That isn’t my business.” Sometimes I wanted to strangle people who stuck their nose in my own. “If
you want me to know, you’ll tell me, and I’ll listen.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Only a handful of people have ever seen my back. If you find out the story behind the scars, you could sell it to a tabloid. Make a lot of money.”

I rolled my eyes. “Now you’re just pissing me off,
pendejo
.”

He tilted his head. He’d probably expected me to clasp my hands to my chest and tell him
I would never sell a story!

“Look, Sevastyan, I don’t mind problems—I handle problems—but I
hate
when they’re unnecessary. So don’t do this with me.”

“You’re not going to make the observation?”

“What observation?”

“That I whip women because I was whipped.”

“That’s not why you do it.”

He raised his brows. “Thrall me with supposition.”

I said nothing.

He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “It drives me mad not knowing what’s going on in that head of yours.”

I couldn’t take his pain away, but I could acknowledge it. I could let him know he was still gorgeous to me. “Then I’ll
show
you what I’m thinking.” I
climbed out of the pool and crossed to him. “Turn around, please.”

He hesitated. When he finally turned, I could tell he was holding his breath, wondering what I’d do.

Standing on tiptoe, I pressed a tender kiss to the highest scar, then lightly grazed my cheek against it. On a shuddering exhalation, he murmured, “
Dushen’ka.

I kissed and nuzzled the next line and the one below it, all the way down to the small of his back. When I got to his muscled ass, I pantsed him. I nipped one flawless, sculpted cheek, then
started back up.

He turned, gazing down at me with his brows drawn. “Singular creature.”

I told him what I told myself whenever my guilt grew too painful: “It happened. It hurt. Better things await you.”

“Like what?”

“Like pouring champagne down my chest to drink from my nipples? While I ride you? That’s in your future if you want it.”

He swallowed. “A bright future for me, then. I’m long overdue for that.” He retrieved another bottle from the bar. . . .

While I rode him on a lounge chair, he drank and drank.

More champagne . . .

We made toasts to each other. He tickled me. When I tried to escape, he pinned my wrists above my head and played with my breasts till I writhed. “In case I haven’t told you,”
he rasped, “I like your size as much as you do.” Then
he
rode
me
.

More champagne . . .

Room service arrived with pan-seared diver scallops, Wagyu beef tenderloins, and Beluga caviar. As we fed each other, he blamed me for how famished he was.

“Caviar is decadent!” I told him.

“I can’t believe you’ve never had it.” Voice gone gruff, he said, “There are many things I could show you.”

More champagne . . .

I lay on a float on my front as he pulled me around the pool, our faces close. We discussed books and business theory till the pads of my fingers pruned.

More champagne . . .

We reclined side by side on a double lounger, sharing a blanket, gazing up at the full moon and stars. I was
seriously
buzzed. But I liked the faint feeling of spinning; it made the sky
twirl for me.

“I’ve divulged more about myself than you have,” he said, his voice rumbly with relaxation. “I can’t tell you how unusual that is.”

“Ask me light questions, and I’ll answer.”

“Very well. What was your first pet? A dog?”

“A goldfish. I never got to have a dog.”

“If you want one, why don’t you have one now?”

I stretched an arm over my head. “Ah, to be Máxim Sevastyan for a day. What you want, you get.”

“I want more answers from you, but I don’t get them.”

Bob and weave.
“What was
your
first pet?”

“A gelding.”

“I’ve never been horseback riding.” There were plenty of farms on the coast, but my family’s mansion was isolated. I’d been secluded till I’d gone to high
school. After that, all I’d cared about was partying.

He looked at me like I’d grown two heads. “That’s unacceptable. None of your clients took you? A lover didn’t?”

I shrugged again.

“I’ll take you. You’ll enjoy riding with me.”

I was sure I would. And yet it would never happen. I drained my flute, raising it for more, and he poured. I could drink this stuff till eternity. “Do you often take lovers out
riding?”

“Lovers? I’ve never had one.” His voice turned chilly as he said, “My previous relationship was with a blond escort and lasted one hour. I wish her all the best.”
Dipping even chillier, he added, “I’d ask when your last relationship was, but I have no doubt you’re currently in one.”

“What? I’m not.”

“A couple of times tonight I caught you staring off at nothing. I’ve found that usually means a woman is thinking about a man.”

I had been. About Edward. What if I’d been mistaken about seeing him in Miami? What if I gave up more nights like this, fleeing for nothing?

Or, what if he
was
here to make good on his last vow to me?

“I’m not in a relationship, Máxim.” How could I ever trust another man? I’d always think he was using me. I jokingly thought,
Unless he’s a
billionaire
. Then I chastised myself.
Jets. Cooled. NOW.
“What about you? Do you want one?”

“It would depend on whether I found the right woman.” He turned on his side to face me. “What’s your earliest memory?”

I had vague impressions of my father. He’d been an attaché to Cuba, with a ready laugh. Sometimes I could remember hazel eyes that crinkled at the sides and the smell of cigars.
“My most fully formed one? Helping my mother and grandmother make paella. I got to toss a handful of spices in, and I was beaming. My mother warned me to watch my pride.”

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