Home > The Master (The Game Maker #2)(25)

The Master (The Game Maker #2)(25)
Author: Kresley Cole

She didn’t “pass away,” Cat.

I’d never forget the way my stomach had plummeted when I’d learned for certain that she’d been murdered. The rage I’d felt. . . .

“You’re so sure that Ana-Lucía will keep quiet?” Julia asked Edward. “She’s an impulsive troublemaker.”

“What could she say to the police?” he asked. “That she suspected I had something to do with the old bat’s death? I’ve been a model husband for over a year, and I’ve snowed everyone she’s ever come into contact with. I play tennis with her lawyer. Who would believe her? And even if her mother was exhumed, the case is in Ana-Lucía’s safety-deposit box, the one she obtained by herself, in her name.”

He’d asked me to secure it for a coin collection, giving me a locked case to store. Mierda, he had the key! What was actually in it? What was his ace?

Edward continued, “No one but her has ever accessed it, and her fingerprints are the only ones on the case. She fought constantly with her mother and was the sole heir to a fortune. Means, motive, opportunity, and a murder weapon. One word to the police, and Ana-Lucía’s done.”

They’d killed my mother; they’d framed me for it.

When they’d stopped talking and started kissing, I’d decided to get answers, one way or another—

“Katya?” Máxim was studying my face, as if trying to read my thoughts.

I forced a smile. “Just thinking.” It happened, it hurt. . . . I shook away my memories and said, “My mother was very strict.”

“So you rebelled? Is that how you got into escorting?”

No, that was how I’d let a monster into our lives. I cleared my throat. “A story for another time. Are you close to your parents?”

His gaze slid away. “Both died when I was a boy.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “What’s your earliest memory?”

“My mother singing. She rarely did, but she had a lovely voice.” Changing the subject, he said, “Did you do well in school?”

“Straight A’s. I couldn’t get enough math, used to do puzzles for fun. What about you? What was your favorite subject?”

“Debate.”

“Already a politician?” I turned on my side, facing him. Now our conversation seemed even more intimate.

“But no longer. Maybe I’ll go into business with my older brother, if he’ll have me.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“We were estranged. He left home when I was young, and I resented him. For years, he’s suspected that I had malicious intentions against him. I can’t say that I didn’t at the time.”

“That’s sad. But no longer?”

“We’re speaking, which is an improvement. I’m close to my younger brother,” he said. “Do you have any siblings?”

I hesitated. Sometimes I imagined tidbits of my information being fed into a search engine. It would spit out my name if given enough variables.

Sevastyan already had several: Spanish-speaking female, approximately twenty-six, no college degree, deceased parents.

Would I now add only child? “I’m sure my family is boring compared to yours. Let’s talk about something more exciting.” I raised my flute again. Downed so soon?

He readily poured. “Like what?”

“Sex?”

“I’m going to make a blanket statement: I like ours. I’m fairly certain you do too. Tonight, you’ve repeatedly touched my back. You even scratched it earlier.”

“Perdón!” I’m sorry! “Did I hurt you? I forget myself with you.” Factory shutdown. “What if I do it again, Máxim?”

The left corner of his lips curved up. “I didn’t say I wanted you to stop. I thought it would bother me, but it doesn’t. I knew you’d forgotten yourself, and I relished every fucking second of it.”

I exhaled. “You scared me. I thought you were going to have to put mittens on me.”

“That’s your worry?” He reached for me under the blanket, laying a casual palm over my hip, his thumb lazily stroking. “I expected the scars to bother you.”

“They don’t. I’ll grow accustomed to your back—but I will never get over your ass.”

He gave me that glorious full smile of his. I reached over and placed my hand on his face. “I love your smile.”

“Everyone says I’m charming, but I don’t smile or laugh naturally. I think to myself, Would now be a normal time for someone like me to show amusement? Then I force myself to react, as people do when a camera turns to them. But with you, it’s unconscious. I just respond.”

“Truly?” His smile in person did look different from the one I’d seen in pictures. Those never engaged his eyes. I leaned forward to kiss him, but when my lids slid shut, the world went off-kilter. I drew back. “Whoa. I think I need to cool off.” I rose, swerving on unsteady feet, then dropped into the pool.

He followed shortly after, caging me in, with my back against the infinity edge. Steam rose from the water, flickering the lights, making the ocean blue of his eyes glow. “The way your hips and ass move when you walk . . . it’s like a revelation.”

I swallowed, my hands landing on his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his waist.

He slowly rocked into me. “Why can’t I stop touching you?”

Wordlessly, we stared at each other as he took me. Something was occurring between us. More than sex. Something I’d never experienced. I wanted to come; I wanted to cry; I needed to smooth his brow and ease his own thunderstruck look. “Máxim?”

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