The Professional (The Game Maker #1)(30)
Author: Kresley Cole

I knew sub-nothing about boats, but I was pretty sure this one had been the villain’s yacht in Casino Royale. Paxán had promised to take me out once the weather—and danger—broke, said we could motor all the way to the Gulf of Finland.

“You should play Aleksei sometime.”

I gave a shrug. Pass. I was trying to get over my fascination with him, not fuel it.

Yet when Sevastyan’s words floated up, dimly echoing from the boathouse, I frowned. “Is he speaking . . . Italian?”

“Ah, yes,” Paxán said proudly. “He speaks four languages fluently. He’s a—what do you call it?—a self-learner?”

I nodded. The bruiser boxer, the feared enforcer, the professional hit man, was an autodidact. Fascination fueled once more. Damn it.

“If only I could interest him in the workings of clocks.” Paxán had begun teaching me, and I’d geeked out, finding it addictive. “So have you given some thought to making this your full-time home?” He’d yet to exert any pressure on me, although I could tell how much he longed for me to stay.

In a dry tone, I said, “Gee. Maybe if you’d give me some gifts, you know, spoil me a little.” I’d received countless pieces of priceless jewelry, another closetful of clothes, a red Aston Martin Vanquish that Filip had salivated over, and even my own thoroughbred, an exquisite dapple-gray mare named Alizay. I only awaited a sunny day to take her out.

In a matching tone, he said, “Next you’ll be saying the Fabergé egg was too much.”

With a laugh, I held up my thumb against my forefinger. “Just a touch.”

He chuckled with me. “I can’t help it. I have all this money and years to make up for. The birthday presents alone . . .” He tilted his head. “Sometimes I wish you were more interested in being rich.”

The present that I’d adored above all the rest had been the least expensive: a framed portrait of my mother, Elena. How I wished I’d been able to know her!

She’d had strawberry blond hair, sparkling green eyes, and a coy smile. I might resemble my grandmother, but I saw similarities to Elena as well.

When I’d gushed over the thoughtfulness of the gift, Paxán had informed me that the idea had been Sevastyan’s, which had surprised me.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate everything, but at heart, I’m a farm girl. I like the simple life. Besides, you are the draw here—not the gifts.” I hadn’t gotten around to telling him that I wanted him to change his will back. The topic was morbid, and I got the sense that it would crush his feelings.

“But Berezka is pleasant, no?”

I gazed out over the surreal landscape. A green lawn sprawled to the edge of the river. Light drops of rain splashed the surface with notes like music. Otters frolicked in the current. Each day, Paxán would point out local species of animals. “Look! It’s a stoat,” he’d say. Or a shrew, or a raccoon dog, or a great crested grebe.

I admitted, “It’s magical here.”

“What can I do to convince you to stay?”

As little as I saw Mom, I could visit her twice a year at her new place. She was currently on a cruise around the world that she’d “won.” Just a precaution, courtesy of the Kovaleva syndicate.

When I’d called to check in, I hadn’t told her anything, figuring a reveal this major should be done in person.

Eventually Mom would be fine wherever I lived, but how could I leave Jess . . . and school? “Living here would be challenging, with school and all.” I could let my master’s stand as my ending degree; I didn’t have to pursue the PhD. Yet somehow that felt like quitting.

“We are within driving distance of several renowned universities.”

God, the hopefulness in his voice was killing me. I knew he was accustomed to having his way, just as Sevastyan clearly was, but Paxán was making the effort to coax me to remain—which made me respect him all the more.

“Starting at a new university is something to investigate, at least,” I said, committing to nothing.

I was beginning to suspect that I was a commitment-phobe. Though I’d always considered myself decisive, I could see now that my decision trees were usually limbless.

If one completed a master’s degree and didn’t want to make a decision about one’s future . . . well, get a PhD! Stay in the same chute. Start classes a week after the last ones ended.

Maybe that was why the money bothered me so much; in a way, it represented infinite choices.

Hell, I hadn’t even chosen to come to Russia.

“It’s your move, dorogaya moya.” My dear.

I made a halfhearted play. “What about the danger, Paxán? What’s happening with that other organization?”

“These are difficult times we live in. There used to be, well, honor among thieves. Now the areas I control are getting flooded with an element that frightens my people.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll give you a mild example. My rival, Ivan Travkin, set up a parking lot in the middle of my territory. No one used it—there was no need to—so Travkin’s men began smashing the windshields of any cars outside the lot, forcing people to pay for parking every day. They came to me to get this stopped, so I sent Sevastyan, who shut that operation down. Forcefully.”

I could only imagine what the legendary Siberian had done.

“For years, Travkin has searched for small inroads like this, planning the death of my syndicate by a thousand cuts. But when he learned of your existence and sent two of his deadliest enforcers to America”—my twinkling-eyed Santa of a father grew steely-eyed and cold—“it was a declaration of war.”

War. Was it any wonder that I worried about Paxán constantly? And about Sevastyan, his frontline general?

“Once we prevail, things will be different for you. We can move freely.” Paxán’s expression softened again. “I will show you the country of your birth, your mother’s hometown. We can find any cousins of yours!”

“I would love that. Other than this trip, I’ve never traveled.”

He gave me an odd look, a guilty one, as if that was a failing on his part. “A fact that must be remedied as soon as possible. But in the meantime, it’s not so bad at Berezka?”

As if magnetized, my gaze sought out Sevastyan. Though no longer on the phone, he remained on the dock, scanning the perimeter. I lifted my teacup for a sip, and a moment to gather my thoughts.