Home > The Master (The Game Maker #2)(90)

The Master (The Game Maker #2)(90)
Author: Kresley Cole

I couldn’t stand to see the guilt in his eyes. “I guess we could blame ourselves. I have an idea—let’s blame him.” I was starting to get sleepy.

“We could do that. We have time to discuss all this. You already look tired, love.”

“If I’m going to be out, you could go to the hotel and rest.”

“Not a chance.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll watch over you. Right now, just concentrate on getting better.”

“Then what happens? I need to know something before I pass out.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Whatever you wish to happen will. I’ll see to it.” I read a question in his gaze. Was I keeping him?

“What are my choices? I like things settled, Ruso.”

“You know what I want from you.”

I bit my lip at the fierceness in his expression. “You want everything?”

A slow nod. “Everything.” The man was a goner. Done for. Terminado.

“What if you get jealous again? And stop talking to me?”

In a hoarse voice, he said, “I have learned—in the harshest possible way—to talk to you. I want to spend my life making up for the way I treated you. But I won’t rush your decision. For now, you need to rest and heal so you can go home.”

I couldn’t stifle a yawn. “Home?” In Jacksonville? I didn’t want to go there, not for a while. Not until the pain had faded more.

“You have a brand new house in Miami, moyo solnyshko. It has spices in need of organizing. When you’re better, you’ll have a discerning dog. And I’ll bribe him to like me.”

He got me a Miami house? “Is my place big enough for me and my dog and even you?”

“Indeed.”

I yawned again. “You wanna share it with us?”

He swallowed. “Are you certain? You have your freedom now. You’re young and wealthy and can do anything—can have anything—in this world.”

I was drifting off. “I want my Russian. Come live with me and the scrappy mutt we pick out at the pound. Mi casa es su casa.”

“Ah, my Lucía wants a scrappy mutt. I should’ve known you’d prefer a dog who’s been on the run.” As I drifted off, I heard him say, “I’ll live with you, then. Until I can convince you to marry me. . . .”

CHAPTER 40

I sat on Máxim’s lap as Vasili drove us to my new place. The day was a Miami stunner. I raised my face to the sun coming in the window, starved for it after so long inside.

At the hospital, Vasili had opened the door to the (new) Bentley, literally hat in hand. He’d mumbled fervent Russian to me.

I’d asked Máxim, “What’s he saying?”

“That he’s very happy you’re better. And sorry for his suspicions.”

I told the man, “You took care of Máxim. How could I hold a grudge? You get a lifetime supply of turrón.”

Now we were slowing to turn onto a bridge. “I recognize this! We’re going to Indian Creek Island?” The tiny Miami eden for the ultra-rich was home to only fourteen families, yet the enclave had its own police force and mayor. “I always wanted a cleaning job here, but the security was crazy.”

“In lieu of a job, would you accept owning the best house on the island?”

I gazed back at Máxim. “En serio? Sí. Let’s do that.” I craned my head to look at everything, squirming over him. My eyes widened when I felt him harden. Máxim had definitely recovered from his gunshot wound. I slid him a smile.

The left corner of his lips curved. “And I’d been so good the whole way here.”

The doc had told me I couldn’t have sex until I got the all clear. I leaned back against the uninjured side of Máxim’s chest. “This chastity is going to be the worst of all, isn’t it, Ruso?”

“I’d prefer another bullet wound.”

As we pulled into a driveway lined with majestic palms, my jaw dropped at the enormous mansion. Máxim hadn’t been kidding about ours being the best.

The design was modern, with an abundance of oversize windows, the stucco tropics-white. Lush landscaping abounded.

Inside, I turned in circles. The décor was warm and inviting. Tasteful art adorned the walls. The ceilings soared, giving the rooms an airy feel. Plush rugs softened the acoustics.

In the living room, an entire wall opened to the outside—and a breathtaking pool. A green lawn sprawled down to a beach and lapping blue waves. A cigarette boat hung in a lift.

“Te gusta?” he asked.

“We can live here today? It’s krasavitza. Beautiful!” I crossed to him.

He smiled at my Russian word. “You’re already moved in. I wasn’t joking about the kitchen spices. For the future, there’s a treadmill and the yard is fenced. Though maybe you’d like somewhere else better? We could stay in Jacksonville, or the North Pole, or wherever St. Bernards serve brandy.”

I grinned up at him. “I like it here. But don’t you need to live in Russia?”

“Aleksandr wants to go into business. He has totally changed his mind about me. He could take over things in Russia, and I could expand here. In fact, you and I could start operations in this very house.”

I was already heading into phase four of my life plan? “How many briefcases of cash did this place cost?”

“Many. But the markets were good—today we are billionaires. We should reward ourselves.”

“Okay, but when do I get to visit the motherland?”

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