The Player (The Game Maker #3)

by Kresley Cole

  Reverse cowgirl? Once he’d stretched out on the bed, naked and hard and glorious, I’d mounted him. Between the video and his husky commands and the fullness, I’d gone into a frenzy, gripping his muscular thighs for leverage and flaunting my jeweled ass as he’d slapped my cheeks. . . .

  Dragging myself from the memory, I delicately cleared my throat. “I feel like we’re just discovering this place.” He and I had gone kayaking a few more times—with me paddling like a boss. We’d explored the grounds, hiking the property’s many trails through the hills and the vast forest. “We haven’t even gone riding yet.”

  Yesterday he’d taken me to the stables, tucked away on the other side of a hill, to introduce me to our horses that had arrived—so many I couldn’t remember all their names. I was lost for one particular mare with mischievous eyes and a glossy black coat. I’d teasingly asked Dmitri, “Can I take her back to the house?”

  “Of course.” My eccentric husband hadn’t been kidding.

  “Oh. Um, maybe another time.”

  On the way back from the stables, Dmitri and I had taken a different route, a winding coastline path. He’d held my hand. Walking with him like that had felt so natural, as if my hand had only been waiting for his. . . .

  Now he leaned over to chuck my chin. “Our home isn’t going anywhere. Perhaps you don’t like the prospect of being so far from your family.”

  I didn’t want him to think I was an overly attached wuss, but I didn’t have a better excuse to give him. “Perhaps.” In truth, the idea of heading to another part of the world intimidated me. And what if Dmitri found out I was a con artist while we were there? What if I got abandoned in French-freaking-Polynesia, with no money to get home?

  He said, “If you prefer, we could visit them before we leave.”

  They would be paranoid and quiet around a gull, and he wasn’t exactly Mr. Sociable. Though a visit would present an opportunity to hand off the ring, I’d risk his uncovering more about us—and someone might get blamed for theft. “Maybe not so soon.” He frowned, so I added, “And I want to see your family again first.”

  Dmitri didn’t seem to like that idea. He’d talked about matters that needed resolving with them. Maybe resolution would take some time.

  Honestly though, I did want to see them. I’d love to get Natalie and Lucía’s take on BDSM. And find out more about my husband.

  Wait . . . What if I was a matter that needed resolving? What if his family thought I wasn’t good enough for him? Or worse, a gold-digger?

  He relented. “Then we’ll remain for now.”

  “Great!” I managed a believable smile.

  He pressed a kiss to my lips. “I’m going to get my work done early.” He religiously spent his hour a day on the computer. “Will you join me?”

  I had all week. I would stretch out on the study couch, paying more attention to him than to the new laptop he’d given me. The first day, his heart-melting little frown of concentration had been irresistible to me. I’d crawled under his desk.

  He’d hissed in a breath when I’d gone for his fly. “Prosto rai,” he’d groaned as he’d let his legs fall wide. . . .

  I longed for a repeat now, but I was too unsettled. “I think I’ll go for a walk.”

  Once he’d settled into the study, I got dressed, then headed toward the stables. Strolling along the manicured path, I barely saw the surrounding hills, caught up in debating my future.

  The more I bonded with Dmitri, the more disloyal I felt to my family and my upbringing. On the other hand, if I assured myself I’d be back among them, returning to my old life, guilt over Dmitri gutted me.

  My determination to save my loved ones meant I had to be ready to betray his trust.

  I felt like a snare was closing around me.

  Grifters loathed snares, unless sprung on a mark.

  My trail crested a rise, revealing a plateau of wildflowers and the bright white stable. Most of the horses were out in the four paddocks, whickering at each other and tossing their heads in the sunshine.

  I leaned against a fence and watched.

  Being with Brett had made me ask questions. Dmitri, too, made me ask: Can I fall for a guy in so short a time? Can I learn to trust him? Can I make a life with someone who isn’t a grifter?

  One bay colt raised his face to the breeze and sneezed, then hopped around. I caught myself grinning.

  This would be an amazing place for kids to grow up.

  I frowned. Not a typical Vice-like thought. The other night, Dmitri and I had talked a little about children. I’d teasingly said, “You know a lot about parenting, do you? I’m not so sure I’m cut out for it.”

  He’d raised his chin. “In the few years I had with my mother, I learned from her how to be a parent: provide infinite patience, love unconditionally, and safeguard with your life.” He’d held my gaze. “Victoria Sevastyan, you will be an incredible mother.”

  Just as I’d planted good-girl seeds, he’d sparked the idea of kids—and it’d grown. The prospect of children with Brett had been unappealing. But when I imagined Dmitri and myself raising a family, I could see it.

  He’d be a little crazy; I’d be a little shady. Hell, it might just work.

  I took out my phone and called my sister. “I like him.”

  “You like his money, hon.”

  “Don’t forget, I could divorce him today and walk away with half of his fortune,” I pointed out. “Karin, I imagined him without a dime. I pictured us living a modest existence. I’d still be hooked on him. He’s caring, brilliant, supportive, and protective. And creative. He’s even funny.” He’d started cracking more jokes. “I wish my need for him were as easy as money. Money would be simple. But what I feel for him is scary. What if . . .”

  “Out with it. Sister vault.”

  “What if he and I were made for each other?” What if fairy tales existed?

  A thought occurred. How could Mom say they didn’t when she was living one with Dad? They’d fallen in love at first sight and had been inseparable for more than thirty years!

  “Hon, you sound really . . . infatuated.”

  What if I keep him? Damn it, Dmitri needed to be kept by me. “I freaking watch him sleep. I inhale his jackets for hits of his scent. I catch myself sighing at him when he works. He gets this little frown of concentration that is seriously the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. His smiles make my heart twist.” They were coming so much more frequently. “When he talks about his work, he gets all excited, and it’s sooo sexy.”

  Two days ago, he’d tried to explain his patents and research to me. He’d been shocked when I’d jumped him. “Vika?”

  “I can’t help it,” I’d told him between kisses. “You’re utterly irresistible when you talk about tech stuff.”

  He’d hastily rasped about ratios and refactoring and vertical traceability and other gobbledygook as I’d yanked at his clothes. . . .

  Karin asked, “But what about having nothing in common? You told me he wants kids; you don’t.”

  “I might have changed my mind. I’m not saying I’ll be knocked up tomorrow or anything.” I was on the pill for now, had been taking them straight through to avoid a period. “But yeah, I can imagine it.” I exhaled. “This is the longest I’ve been apart from him since we got here, and I legit miss him.” He was just as bad; earlier, he’d been reluctant to go to his study without me.

  “Vice, you hardly sound like . . . you.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You told me he was a thrall, and then all the sudden you’re thinking babies and happily-ever-afters? While you’re honeymooning in a palace, your family’s on the razor’s edge, not knowing what you’re going to do or where your head’s at.”

  Just because I had a deadline didn’t mean I should take to the last second to decide. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Though the congressman had ponied-up in full and Mom and Dad had scored on their scam, we were still well short, even with Lucía’s watch
and my car.

  “We can’t do this without you. You need to settle on your play today. Lose the ring”—adding more deception to the heaping pile of it—“or lose the guy.”

  Divorce.

  “If you walked now, you could tell his lawyers you’ll sign away your rights, but only for a speedy settlement. Say ten mil by the weekend? They’d consider their client’s enormous exposure, and I bet they’d pay it.”

  As if Dmitri would ever let me go . . .

  Karin added, “Or you can lose the ring and put off the divorce decision.”

  I worried my lip. “It’s a symbol. What if I jinx this marriage by giving it up? What if Lady Luck is actually smiling on me to this extent? How will she feel if I spat in her eye?”

  “Jinxed? Your ‘relationship’ is built on lies,” Karin said, getting exasperated. “You don’t have a choice. You can’t keep the guy and the rock.”

  My sister made me sound greedy, like a gull. “I would never leave the family in a lurch—you know that—but there’s another option. I ask him for the money.”

  In that scenario, I would anonymously return Lucía’s watch. What if it had sentimental value? Like I’d attached to my ring?

  Oh, and I wouldn’t report the Porsche stolen.

  All told, I’d need . . . three mil.

  She imitated me: “Hi, Dmitri, I know we’ve only been married a week, but I need a blank check for a fortune, and I can never tell you why. Though this would definitely spur any sane man to investigate me, please don’t. ’Kay? Thanks, baby.”

  I didn’t want to frame my dilemma as how much I love my parents versus how much I trust a virtual stranger to give me millions.

  He was unbelievably generous, but could he sign a blank check—with no questions asked?

  If he refused, he’d be suspicious once I lost my ring. Even if he said yes about the money, he might still investigate my family more intensively.

  I would be risking everyone I loved, rolling the dice on a man I’d known for mere days—a man with a troubled past.

  One who didn’t seem interested in divulging much more about it.

  So far, I’d garnered only tidbits of his background. When I’d asked him about his parents, he’d said, “I loved my mother dearly.” His gaze had gone distant, but his eyes had been full of affection. “My brothers were older and often off by themselves, so I spent most of my days with her. She taught me how to play chess and ride horses. She used to sing to me.” Yet he’d refused to talk about his father at all.

  Though I still had no idea how his parents had died within two years of each other, I hadn’t pressed. He believed once he shared his secrets, I would share mine, and I wanted to postpone that as far into the future as possible. Read: indefinitely.

  Karin said, “If he finds out we played him, he could get that postnup overturned. You would be left with nothing.” She sighed into the phone. “Pete knew this would happen. He told me to remind you we’re a different breed.”

  The only thing we can’t cheat is fate. . . .

  Dmitri had already been betrayed by someone he’d trusted, likely his abuser, a person who’d targeted and deceived him.

  I had targeted and deceived him. My family had manipulated him, arranging for him to run afoul of my ex. Despite our motivations, how could he ever get over the similarities?

  I recalled his eyes dimming as he’d said, “We always find out in the long run, do we not?”

  “Vice, I’m going to tell you something I’ve never revealed to anyone.” Karin paused, then said, “I considered coming clean about all of us to Walker. I would’ve bet the house that he loved me. He’d told me he did.” I pictured the adoring way that man had looked at her. “He and I have a child together, and he still deserted me and Cash. I know how easy it is to get blinded.”

  On the surface, Dmitri and Walker had a lot in common, both so rich and proud. Would Dmitri react like Walker? Would I react like Karin and never get over the heartache?

  Did I believe in that Sevastyan devotion? Or the tears she’d shed?

  “Text me your plan,” she said. “Today.”

  “Tell me how you would play this.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “I’d ignore my starstruck infatuation, shuck his thrall, divorce the guy I barely know before he divorced me, and take him for all he’s worth. Then the family would be safe, and we could all be together again. That’s all we’ve dreamed about for months. Don’t you want that too?”

  “Of course.”

  “To the grave, hon.”

  I gazed down at my ring. To the grave.

  CHAPTER 30

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  ___________________________________

  When I entered the study, Dmitri said, “I finished early so I can take you shopping down the coast.”

  Of course you did, because you’re affectionate and thoughtful. “That sounds really nice.”

  His brows drew together at my pensive expression. “What’s wrong?” He stood.

  I joined him by the desk. “Not a thing.”

  “Come now, even I can tell something’s amiss.” He rested his hands on my shoulders. “Moya zhena, you can talk to me about anything.”

  I gazed up into his eyes. Between this closeness and his touch, my path seemed to gain clarity, Karin’s words fading. After all, she didn’t know how wonderful Dmitri was. And hadn’t she said any sane man would need to investigate?

  My husband was a little crazy.

  The grift sense I’d relied on all my life was telling me to shoot for the guy, the ring, and the cartel payoff. If I believed everything he’d told me since we’d met, then he would do this for me.

  Trusting another man, Vice? “I . . . what if I asked you for something I knew was unfair?”

  He swallowed, his voice going hoarse as he said, “Divorce?”

  “No!”

  He blew out a breath, staggering back into his seat. “Then I don’t give a goddamned fuck what you ask for. Wife wants; wife gets, remember?”

  “But it won’t make sense unless you drill down on it or dig. And I know how badly you need things to make sense.”

  His lips curved. “You’re already learning me well.”

  I backed up a step. “I’m sorry; this was a mistake. Temporary insanity.” Had I really just said that? Shit, Vice, get it together!

  He shot to his feet, moving between me and the door. “I refuse to let you leave until you tell me what’s making you unhappy. You know I’ll keep us here till we starve.”

  Yep. Just as I knew he would’ve let that mare prance right into this house. “Dmitri, if I asked you for something large and unusual, could you swear never to investigate why?” I twined my fingers, touching the ring like a talisman. “To let it not make sense?”

  “I can do anything to make you happy. But you must talk to me.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.

  He cupped my chin to lift my face. “I won’t tell you to trust me.” If he had, I would’ve bolted. “That will come in time. But I will ask my Vegas wife to take a chance on me.”

  I released a breath. “Okay, here goes. Can I please . . . could I have a check today for three million dollars, no questions asked?”

  He dropped his hand. “Sit.” He indicated the chair across from his desk.

  Just great, Vice, fucking great. How stupid could I have been? Now I’d blown everything! I hesitantly sat, preparing myself for whatever he was about to say.

  He sat as well. “I am disappointed, Vika. In myself.”

  “I . . . what?”

  He steepled his fingers. “I haven’t made it clear enough that we share this fortune. You never need ask for what’s already yours. I hope we can consult about larger expenditures, but it’s not necessary.”

  I could only gape at him.

  “You don’t have to answer, but is this money for your parents?”

  When I hesitated, he said, “I will never drill down on t
his or dig further.” Not a lie. “I ask because we could transfer the money. Immediately.”

  Sell on the sizzle. “It’s a debt.” Maybe he’d think we had run afoul of the IRS, or needed to ward off a bankruptcy.

  “If you have all the account data, we could complete the transfer now, to spare them any unnecessary worry.”

  In a daze, I pulled up the information on my phone and handed it to him. “It’s under Joseph and Jill”—Gentleman Joe and Diamond Jill—“Valentine.”

  Dmitri typed in numbers at a blinding speed, then said, “There. All taken care of.” He returned my phone.

  I started to hyperventilate. “That just . . . happened? Did that really . . . just happen?”

  “Of course, love.”

  Even as my brain exploded from his generosity, I felt the stress of the last few months evaporating. My family would be safe.

  He opened a desk drawer, retrieving a leather portfolio similar to the one that had contained the postnup. He stood and offered it to me. “I just got these in.”

  Inside were checks and credit cards in my new name. Victoria Sevastyan.

  If I wanted to, I’d never have to give a name other than this one. I stared up at him in wonder.

  “Vika, if you decide to leave our marriage, this money will be yours no matter what occurs. That should not be a consideration if you choose to stay with me.” He pinned me with his gaze. “You should stay because we do very well together. You should stay because I make you happy.”

  Complicated man! He’d shown such vulnerability earlier when he’d barely been able to utter the word divorce; now he was all blazing confidence.

  I stood, reaching up to lay a hand against his cheek. “You truly just sent my family three million dollars?”

  “No. I sent them five, to incentivize them to come to us when they are in need of money. I told you, I have no parents. Yours will become mine. We will be notorious for spoiling family, will we not?”

  I burst into tears. Real ones.

  “Why are you crying?” He looked nervous.

  “Because I’m so relieved. And you’re so wonderful.” Two tears in a bucket—I’m keeping him.