The Player (The Game Maker 3)

"We should pack for our honeymoon." He pulled on a pair of broken-in jeans; the staff must be coming in today. "I want to spend our one-week anniversary in Moorea."

"Where's that?"

"An island near Tahiti."

So far away? How would anyone pick up the ring? They needed it in three days! "Um, I thought we'd be honeymooning here."

He shook his head. "The weather's supposed to turn, but it will be nice in French Polynesia. I plan to buy you everything--even sunny days."

"Maybe we could leave in a week or two?" Work the con, I told myself.

Oh, who was I kidding? I kept using the con as an excuse to get right where I wanted to be--with Dmitri.

Married. Falling ever deeper under his spell.

He sat on the bed beside me. "Why the delay?"

"I'm having too much fun here." Not a lie.

Yesterday I'd modeled the clothes and jewels that kept arriving (I called my dressing room "the never-ending story"). He'd rated the looks--until I'd emerged stark naked, with nothing but jewelry all over me, just asking for it.

As he'd fucked me, strands of pearls had bounced over my tits, delighting him.

We'd been having a lot of sex. Kink and non-kink. In the shower. In the pool. In the hot tub. Down by the ocean.

In the six-car garage, on the hood of a Bentley.

Each night we watched our sex tapes from the day before. Yesterday, he'd played the recording of the first time he used a plug on me--while he'd worked a larger one inside me. "You're going to ride me, facing away, so I can whip your beautiful ass and control the pace."

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 Lucia'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 res

earch 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 Lucia'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?"