The Professional (The Game Maker #1)(61)
Author: Kresley Cole

I tensed, ready to bolt for the safe room. Until I remembered that, for all his faults, this man would never hurt me. In spite of his balled fists, I demanded, “Then help me fix this!”

He put a hand to his throat as if he couldn’t get enough air. “There is a need inside me—it’s like a beast that howls. I need to do things to you. I need to control you, command you, punish you. In order to madden you.” He stabbed his fingers into his hair. “I indulged in this before you, but never felt like I couldn’t live without it. Yet now, with you . . .”

“Now what?”

“It’s like a sickness inside me that I fight and fight but can never defeat.” His voice was rising with each word. “And then you tempt me like this?” he yelled. “You gut me!”

I yelled back. “So stop fighting it!” I marched up to him, grabbing his face. On my toes, I met his gaze. “I’m here, Sevastyan. I’m ready, I’m willing. I need you.” I’m falling for you.

For some reason, I held those words back. Maybe because I didn’t expect him to respond in kind.

He’d talked about owning, controlling, and possessing me. He’d talked about obsession. But never about love. “Why would you fight something we both crave?”

With an eerie gentleness, he peeled my hands away, then strode over to the safe room’s desk. From a false-bottomed drawer I hadn’t known about, he retrieved a letter. Returning to me, he shoved it into my hands. “You weren’t the only one who received a letter.”

Overwhelmed with curiosity, I opened it. My father had written a final correspondence to him as well? The paper was crinkled. How many times had Sevastyan read it? Would he expect to read mine, still hidden in my suitcase?

My eyes widened as I scanned the lines:

She is precious, Aleksei, treat her as a treasure, and above all things, respect her. . . . My Natalie’s life is in your hands. . . . She’s fragile, has been uprooted from a safe and sheltered existence, forced into the danger our world presents. Nothing else matters if she’s not happy and protected. . . .

Oh, dear God. I gazed up at Sevastyan as everything became clear. “This is why you’ve been denying us?”

The man who’d been his savior, the one he felt like he’d failed, the mentor who’d guided his life for decades—had given his blindly loyal enforcer a final set of instructions. “Sevastyan, I respect Paxán’s wishes. I do. But this letter has no bearing on what goes on between us.” I handed it back to him.

He clasped the page with a shaking hand. “How can you say that?”

“We have to make our own way together.”

“This letter reminded me of what you are. And then, right after I first read it, I saw . . . I saw the bruises I’d given you. I hadn’t even meant to discipline you, not like I do in my twisted imaginings.”

“Sevastyan, just wait—”

“He was your father. He was . . . my father. He expected me to treat you like a treasure. He didn’t know about that part of my life. I took pains to keep it secret. If he had, he would never have chosen me for you.”

“You’re acting like that type of life is dark and dirty. Like only broken people do it.”

He raised his brows: No shit!

“You don’t have to be broken to like kink. Look at me. I had the most idyllic upbringing ever, and I can’t stop thinking about it with you.” When I saw he wasn’t budging, I said, “You were instructed to keep me happy. Well, right now, I’m far from it.”

He looked like he’d just stifled a wince. “Then that means I should succeed at least in protecting you. I don’t want my past to taint you.”

“Taint? Because I was so wholesome? Hate to break it to you, but I was already leaning this way. When I went online to order my ‘arsenal,’ do you think I didn’t mosey over to the other pages on the site, the ones with braided black leather and shining silver chains? I was already curious.”

For the first time, doubt flickered in his expression. Hope?

I pressed my advantage. “That’s right. Maybe deep down you sensed it in me from the very start.”

He shook his head hard. “This can’t be. I don’t want to discuss it further—”

“Shut up and listen to me! I’m fighting for us, and you’re not even trying to meet me halfway. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No! What are you talking about?”

“What you described as a sickness . . . you can’t suppress something like that forever. You already threatened to find another woman the last time you didn’t get your way with me. Since you refuse to see me as a partner, sooner or later you’ll go to another to have those needs fulfilled.”

With a sharp shake of his head, he grabbed my arms, about to speak, but I cut him off: “Did you never think that I might go to another too?”

He released me with splayed fingers, as if tossing a live grenade. With a vile curse, he turned toward the door.

On his way out, my fighter punched a hole in the wall.

A lone, still pissed, I’d gotten myself dressed, then picked at some food I’d found in the fridge. Afterward, I’d called Jess—who’d been hungover and out of it. So I’d made my way into the panic room to idly survey pedestrians for mindless hours.

Or, more honestly, to wait for Sevastyan’s return like a sap. What if he had gone to another woman? What if he was whipping her right now, dominating her with that compelling voice and magnificent body?

My eyes watered. I could get past anything, but not infidelity, not when I’d all but begged him not to do it—

I jerked up in my seat when I saw Sevastyan return. I blinked through my tears, watching him enter the kitchen with a large gift-wrapped package.

He’d been out getting me a present? My emotions spun wildly in the other direction. Giddiness. Glee.

As if he knew I was watching him, he glanced up at the camera as he set the box down on the counter. The look in his eyes was filled with warning. And maybe even a little . . . sadness. Then he left again.

Where was he going, and why leave the package? Was it a peace offering—or a parting gift?

I sprinted to the stairs, bounding down them to the kitchen. I tore into the box, finding an emerald-green beaded gown. Lingerie was included—a cropped black satin bustier with a matching thong. Thigh-highs and heels completed the ensemble.

There was even a long velvet jewel case with emerald earrings and a matching pendant.