The Master

by Kresley Cole

  "I'd love to see them."

  Rebecca's gaze flicked to Jess, and she sucked in a scandalized breath. "Jessica! Where are the rest of your clothes? Must you?"

  Completely deadpan, Jess said, "Becks, I must."

  "Couldn't you slip on a sweater? This is why I shouldn't have let you fire the wedding coordinator! She would have told you . . ."

  "We'll see all of you inside." Maxim steered me away from that, and we headed into the spacious wood-paneled Grand Hall. Elaborate crown molding adorned the ceilings. And there were fireplaces. Plural. Big ones!

  About a dozen tables had seven or so seats each. Maxim found his placard, with one that read Guest beside it. He rubbed his thumb over it. "I suppose 'guest' is as accurate as the name you told me. Give me one thing right now, solnyshko. Anything."

  My gaze darted. "Um, I never expected to like you even half this much?"

  Good humor restored, he said, "That'll do for now." He curled his finger under my chin, and I wondered if he was going to kiss me right there. Then everyone else started arriving inside.

  Jess sidled over to me. "Since Natalie's getting married, she won't be able to give me all the attention I need and deserve. You'll pick up the slack." She moved her placard to my other side.

  Natalie, Aleks, Tom, and Rebecca made up the rest of the table. When we sat, Jess tossed back an old-fashioned she was holding--drank it down. Whoa. I expected her to swipe her forearm over her mouth.

  As Maxim made small talk with Rebecca and Tom, and Natalie teased Aleks about something, Jess said to me, "We need to discuss shoe-polishing the limo tonight." She ordered another drink and got me one too. "I'm open to dirty limericks. Any suggestions?"

  "I'll work on it."

  "So lemme give you the lay of the land." She hiked her thumb over her shoulder. "At that table, we have three bridesmaids. Polly's the corn-fed-looking blonde, and the only one worth mentioning. The other two are lame and their invites make me wonder where Natalie's head's at. The three uptight guys are Russian groomsmen. My charm is lost on them, so obviously they're nobodies--guys who did hits with Aleks or some such shit."

  Whoa, she was talking about his hit man background aloud? Just like that?

  She continued, "I was surprised by the turnout, since Natalie gave us zero notice about this shindig. The rest of the crowd is extended family of Rebecca and Natalie's adoptive dad."

  "Where is he?"

  "He died. Natural causes. Not like her birth father."

  Across the table, Rebecca said, "So, Cat, is your name short for Catherine?"

  Maxim's gaze was lasered on me.

  "They just call me Cat." I had a crazy impulse to stand on the table and shout to everyone, "I am Lucia Martinez! I was born and raised in JAX, baby!"

  "Well, it's a cute name."

  Jess said, "Your name doesn't suck too bad, Becks."

  Rebecca ignored her, asking me, "Why don't you tell us about yourself?"

  Maxim turned his chair and faced me.

  Dodge and deflect? Bobbing and weaving was difficult in the hot seat. "I'm about to finish college."

  "Oh, where do you go?" she asked.

  "It's a small private school." Maxim would think I was lying, believing I'd denied going to college.

  "You and Maksim met in Miami, right? What brought you there?"

  "I like the city very much. I'm keeping my eye out for new opportunities there." Not a lie.

  "How long have you two been together?"

  He smoothly interjected, "Not long enough. How could it be?"

  Charming devil. I tasted my old-fashioned. Not bad.

  "What's your major?" Natalie asked.

  "Business. Economics major, finance minor." Too much information was flowing from me! I felt like a miser flinging away coins.

  Maxim raised his brows, sipping his drink.

  Natalie looked impressed. "I can't even do simple sums in my head. Business was forever out of my reach."

  "But you're getting your PhD, right? Who needs simple sums when there are calculators?"

  "That's what I've always said!"

  Jess said, "Hey, if I sit between her and Natalie, will I get smarter? I guarantee they'll get sexier."

  Rebecca spoke over her: "Tell us about your family, Cat." Such a "mom" thing to say. In an arch tone, she added, "It's like pulling teeth getting information out of any of these Russians."

  Over the rim of his glass, Maxim said, "Yes, Katya, tell us all about them."

  "My mom was from Cuba. She met my father when he visited from the US." The weight on my chest was returning.

  Servers approached with the first course, distracting the table's attention from me. Gracias a Dios.

  Under his breath, Maxim said, "How much of that was true?"

  "Whatever you think is true, multiply that by ten. Oh, wait, anything multiplied by zero equals zero."

  "For future reference, a US citizen would have difficulty traveling to Cuba, especially twenty-plus years ago."

  "Thanks for the tip," I said, instead of crying, "My father was an attache there!" One day this boiler was going to blow. . . .

  Over the next hour, the dishes continued to arrive. Some were Midwest Americana, some traditional Russian--both exotic to me. The cook in me relished the experience. When I tasted pelmeni, meat dumplings, I told Maxim, "This is really good."

  At my ear, he murmured, "I'd much rather be eating Cuban."

  I coughed and kicked him.

  All throughout the meal, he kept his eyes on me. When he wasn't indulging in the courses, he rested his arm over the back of my chair. Protective, possessive.

  He wasn't the only one studying me. Aleks seemed to be taking my measure. Even Natalie cast me a couple of quizzical looks over her wineglass.

  After the dessert course--Jess inhaled her red velvet cake, then trespassed on mine--she rose, telling Maxim, "I hope you're ready with your best-man speech. We're doing our dog and pony shows tonight, while I'm still coherent."

  Rebecca said, "What? You can't! Those come after the ceremony."

  Jess blinked. "No. This works best for me." When Rebecca started to bluster, Jess said, "This is how they do it in Russia. Ask Maksim."

  Rebecca turned to him. "Is that true?"

  Maxim gave a measured answer, "The most prominent Russian families fairly much do as they please."

  Jess cast her a see? look. "In any case, the wedding coordinator ordered that this happen tonight. And who is she? Oh, yeah--she's me. Relax, Becks. Remind me to get you a Valium."

  Rebecca turned to her daughter to do something, but Natalie said, "Jess's coup to oust the coordinator was successful, Mom. We're slaves to her dictates now."

  Rebecca faced Jess. "What are you going to do?"

  "A vid." At that, she swerved toward the front of the hall, to a computer.

  "A video?" Rebecca whispered, aghast.

  "Listen up," Jess called as she queued up a video on a large screen against one wall. "Hey, errybody!" When the room quieted, she said, "I'd introduce myself, but let's face it, my reputation precedes me, and I've slept with half of you. As maid of honor and coordinator for such a rush-job wedding, I did a vid instead of a speech. You're welcome." She pushed play, then returned to her seat.

  She'd put together a compilation of pictures from the last couple of months of Natalie and Aleks's relationship.

  Leaning in toward me, she said, "Keep your eye on Aleks in the pics. He fucking worships the ground Natalie walks on."

  It was true. He always had his gaze on his fiancee. Such devotion! Also interesting was the evolution of his expressions. At first, he looked stern and uncomfortable. As time passed he loosened up, even giving tentative smiles.

  There were pictures of an older gentleman with twinkling blue eyes--must be Natalie's birth father, Pavel Kovalev. As Natalie watched, tears welled. Even steely Aleks was moved.

  The last frame was the date of the wedding with a message from Jess. "As you go about your married li
ves together, always remember: Dance like nobody's watching."

  While there were a ton of Awws, I thought that was kind of lame.

  Then another line appeared to complete the message. "Dance like nobody's watching. Fuck like everyone is."

  Oh, no she didn't! I turned to her. "There went the last little piece of my heart, Jessica."

  She air-smooched me.

  Red-faced Rebecca screwed her eyes shut, but everyone was laughing. Natalie had to hold her stomach; even Aleks chuckled.

  Maxim laughed, telling me, "Like I said, colorful."

  Rebecca pointed at her. "We will talk later."

  Jessica belched into her fist. "What?"

  Smoothing her hair, Rebecca addressed Maxim, "I suppose if you have a speech, you should go now."

  Had he prepared one? As best man--and brother--would he mention their family? Aleks and Maxim hated their father. Their mother was dead. Natalie's family was full--an adoptive father and mother, a birth father and mother, and now a stepfather she clearly liked. How was Maxim going to handle that?

  "Of course, Rebecca," he said, his tone casual.

  As Maxim stood, Aleks grew visibly nervous. Did he expect coldheartedness from his brother? Scheming? Natalie held his hand on the table.

  Anyone else might have been tentative addressing a gathering like this, but Maxim, the politician, was all confidence. He gazed around with that I command all I survey look, until the room quieted. Even Jess sat up and paid attention.

  In a self-deprecating tone, he asked the crowd, "How am I going to follow Jessica's eloquence?" Laughter sounded. Then he flashed a movie-star smile that wowed everyone. I could have sworn I heard sighs. One rapt server paused midserve, holding a plate in the air.

  Por Dios, could he be more charming?

  "I make this speech on behalf of myself and Dmitri, the youngest Sevastyan brother, who sadly couldn't be here." Aleks raised a brow at that.

  With his deep voice resonating, Maxim said, "First, I would like to say spasiba--thank you--to all of you for your warm Nebraska hospitality. We from Russia appreciate it deeply, as does my beautiful lady from Florida." He winked at me as he said, "Who is delighted to have come with me."

  My cheeks heated, and I mouthed, Devil.

  "When I heard that my brother was to marry Natalie, I marveled at his fortune. She is everything Aleksandr could hope for in a wife. In fact, my brother heartily recommends this great Husker State for finding brides and apparently for something called . . . football?"

  Laughter and cheers broke out. Oh, he was good.

  He continued, "I wish our mother Roxana Antonovna Sevastyan could have met his soon-to-be wife. She would have called Natalie her dorogaya doch'ka, dearest daughter."

  Aleks's uneasiness deepened.

  If Maxim noticed, he didn't show it. "Natalie is a credit to her family here: to the late Bill Porter--a guiding force in her life; to Tom Christianson--who'll proudly walk her down the aisle tomorrow; and to Rebecca"--he leveled his blue gaze on her--"the lovely and most gracious mother of the bride."

  Thunk. I could all but hear Cupid's arrow hitting her heart. She rested her chin on her hand and mooned over him. Natalie grinned and bumped her shoulder against her mother's. Aleks narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

  Addressing the rest of the room, Maxim said, "Across the world in Russia, Elena Petrovna Andropova, Natalie's birth mother, tragically passed away before she could know her daughter--but not before she loved her. Yet it was Natalie's birth father, Pavel Kovalev, who brought her and Aleksandr together."

  Had I worried how Maxim would handle this speech? Natalie was in raptures. Strangely, Aleks looked like he was bracing for an inevitable hit.

  "I'd met Kovalev, and sometimes crossed paths with him socially." Maxim turned to Natalie. "As an aside, I never saw him so happy as he was in those pictures with you."

  Her eyes glinted again, her hand tightening on Aleks's.

  Maxim resumed his speech: "Though our mother started Aleksandr on the path to becoming an honorable and respected man, it was Kovalev who guided him the rest of the way. Kovalev was a gentleman of the old order who believed in the code: respect those who earn it, assist those who need it, and protect to the death all you hold dear. In his lifetime, he did all of these things." Maxim paused a moment, letting everyone in the know reflect on the sacrifice. "He raised my older brother by the code; over these last few months, I've recognized that Aleksandr Sevastyan has become the man his beloved mentor always knew he could be. So no longer do I say how fortunate Aleksandr is to marry Natalie; I say how fortunate they both are to have found each other." He raised his glass to the couple. "Katya and I, as well as Dmitri, wish all blessings upon you for a long and joyful marriage. Schast'ya vam. Happiness to you."

  Cheers broke out, everyone drinking. Maxim had included me, like we were together, together.

  Aleks gazed at his brother as if he didn't recognize him. Then, weirdly, he shifted that dumbfounded expression--to me.

  Natalie mouthed "Thank you" to Maxim. Turning to Aleks, she gave him an I told you so look.

  To the crowd, Maxim called, "Vyp'em za lyubov'! Let's drink to love." This time he raised his glass only to me.

  Jets. Overheating. Mal funcionamiento. My glass shook on the way to my lips.

  He sat down nonchalantly, as if he hadn't just made a roomful of people claw out their hearts in tribute to him. Myself included. "How did I do?"

  His speech had left me speechless.

  He curled his fingers, buffing his nails. "I know, baby girl, I'm that good."

  CHAPTER 29

  As dinner wound down, Jess declared to the table, "Natalie, hot mami, and I are late for the bar."

  "I'm not a big drinker," I told her. "More accurately, I'm a very bad drinker."

  Maxim raised his brows: Understatement, then?

  Jess said, "I scheduled the ceremony for tomorrow night, because I could, and because I'm fucking brilliant like that. We'll have all day to recover." To Maxim, she said, "I'll get Cat drunk for you, so maybe you can get to first base."

  As she dragged me and Natalie to the adjoining bar, I looked over my shoulder at Maxim. Help!

  He held his palms up, a mischievous smile playing at his lips.

  The barroom was as dark-paneled as the Grand Hall. Huskers memorabilia lined the walls. Top 40 country music played on a jukebox.

  At the bar, Jess ordered a round of tequila shots. Natalie looked around. "Did you scare off Polly?"

  Jess said, "She slipped out thirty minutes ago. One of the groomsmen slipped out thirty-four minutes ago. Polly ought to be choking on motherland tonsil right about now."

  How had Jess noticed them leaving? She'd always been engaged with our table's conversation. Not for the first time tonight, I wondered if Jess's carefree attitude masked a keen intellect.

  The bartender served up shots, salt, and lemon wedges. "Are we really doing this?" I asked, though I already had the salt shaker in hand.

  Jess cried, "Si, si, senorita."

  Natalie added, "It's futile to resist her. Trust me."

  Lick-shoot-suck-gasp.

  Another round.

  As the third round arrived, Maxim and his brother came over. Aleks wrapped his arms around Natalie, as if he'd missed her. She melted against him.

  Maxim told me, "I'm going with my brother to smoke cigars. I'm supposed to separate him from the bride, right?"

  "You are."

  "Tequila? Should I be worried?"

  Under my breath, I said, "You left me to the wolves. Now I'm trapped in their den."

  "Take this." He slipped bills into my clutch, what had to be a thousand dollars.

  "Aww. Did you give me pin money?" I probably should've brought my own, but I hadn't even thought about my purse in the guest bedroom closet--the one filled with ten grand.

  "In case you leave the lodge and go into town. Call me if you need more, moyo solnyshko. Or anything at all." He seemed as reluctant to part as Alek
s obviously was. "And if you see those farmers, you text me immediately."

  I saluted him.

  Jess told Maxim, "I'll take real good care of our hot little mami." She raised two fingers in a V and wiggled her tongue between them.

  He cast me a look: I can't even with this one. He tugged me off the bar stool to pull me aside. "Is she hitting on you?"

  "She's just having fun with me. I think she's got eyes for either the buxom barmaid or the burly bar-back, probably both. In any case, I would think a hobbyist like yourself would love to imagine me and--"

  "Nyet. I--don't--share."

  "Easy, Trigger. I wasn't planning on it."

  Satisfied nod. "And I'm a former hobbyist."

  I wished it were that easy for an escort to say grandly, "I'm a former paid sex worker." Life was so not fair. I canted my head at him and said, "You're done with that, are you?" He'd racked up enough hours with escorts to earn a dozen college degrees. Could a PhD of hobbyism quit cold turkey?

  "That's in my past." He brushed his knuckles over my jawline. "It's my understanding that better things await me in the future."

  I needed to fan myself. All day he'd hinted at a relationship with me. Just when I decided I wasn't imagining this, a stray thought arose: What if he's only amusing himself--with me? Has he been broken of his scheming ways? My withered trust wanted to know. "Your brother looked astonished by your speech. He must be relieved that you've changed so much toward him." Have you changed toward everyone?

  Maxim nodded. "He feared I would go the route of Jessica, only not as well-meaning. Did you notice his apprehension growing? He suspected I was setting the room up, readying to deliver a blow."

  "But you're not like that anymore?" As brilliant as Maxim was, I could see him getting bored without something to occupy his mind.

  Another brush of his fingers. "I have other things to focus on now. Such as my vigorous plans for you later."

  My breath hitched.

  He brought me back over to the bar, assisting me into my seat. "Until later." He brushed my hair over to one side, then pressed a kiss between my shoulder blades.

  I was trembling when Maxim strode off with his brother, my mind whirring. A relationship with a man like that? I'd always hoped my luck would turn around, but this was ridiculous.

  Natalie said, "So, you and Maksim are clearly serious. How long have you been seeing each other?"

  "I met him almost two weeks ago."

  Jess's eyes went wide. "Holy shit! It's your two-week anniversary. We should drink."