The Master (14 page)

I walked out of the bedroom, saying, “Okay, we’re all settled. Heated negotiation to commence . . .”

He was in the middle of an angry exchange with Vasili. They both turned to me, accusation in their eyes.

“What?” Alarm trickled through me, and I had the impulse to bolt.

Máxim strode toward me. “Are you on birth control?”

I bit my lip. “Why would you ask that?” Was that information in the records they’d e-mailed?

“You have to be on something.”

“I’m going to be.” The doc had told me to wait until after my next period to start, and that wasn’t for a couple of weeks. How long would the pill take to work? “I
have a prescription. It’s not a problem.”

He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “Are you telling me you only work three weeks a month?”

What did that have to do with birth control? “Again, it’s not a problem.” Though this should have been a private conversation, Vasili looked on stonily.

“You think to entrap me?”

“Entrap? What are you talking about?”

“You told me to come in you!” He was all but yelling.

I had? My gaze darted. “And you . . .
did
?”

The arctic blast was back. “Half a dozen times. As if you don’t remember!”

My lungs contracted. He might have knocked me up!
Preñada
? Pregnant? “I-I don’t remember that!” I remembered pleasure and closeness. But we’d been in the
pool so long, and then things had really gotten foggy. “I wouldn’t have told you that!”

“If you think to trap me with a child, you could not be more mistaken.”

The fucking nerve! “
Now
it’s a problem. I don’t want a kid, much less your kid.”

“Then tell me this isn’t a good time for you to conceive. When was your last period?”

I swallowed, my mouth gone dry.
Por Dios
, I was about to ovulate. Or I already was.

Sevastyan read my expression. “
Blyad´!
”

Vasili said something in Russian, but I repeatedly heard a word that sounded like
prostitutka
.

I considered this situation from their point of view. A hooker, who was ovulating and not on birth control, had gotten Europe’s most eligible bachelor billionaire to come in her.

Six times.

Sevastyan grated a reply to the man in Russian, and Vasili hastened out of the room.

To me he said, “Other women have plotted the same scheme! Congratulations, you’ve come the closest to success.” Despite the early hour, he strode to the bar and poured a
vodka.

“I understand how bad this looks, but we can fix this.” My eyes widened. “A morning-after pill! I can take one!”

He wasn’t listening to me, beginning to pace. “The first time in my life I relax my guard enough to fuck without a condom, and you pull this move.”

I was being accused of trying to cheat someone out of money.
Me!
I covered my mouth with the back of my hand to contain hysterical laughter.

He kept pacing. “A play on a Russian mobster? What were you thinking?”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from yelling, “I don’t
do
the swindling—I
get
swindled!” How much longer could I muzzle my runaway mouth? One day, I
was going to blow, like a seething boiler.

The thought horrified me; I mentally renewed my allegiance to rule number one.

“I thought you were smarter than this,” he said. “But then, you are greedy.”

A greedy prostitute. That’s how he saw me. I was so out of here. I’d go get my own pill, putting this all behind me.

When I strode toward the door, he blocked me. “You think I’m letting you leave? When you could even now be pregnant with my child?”

“I’m going to get a morning-after pill.”

“And I’ll just take your word for that?” Clamping my arm, he forced me back into the bedroom. “We’re going to fix this, then see about teaching you a lesson.”
He snatched my phone from me.

“Give that back! What the hell are you doing?”

“A doctor is coming this morning.”

“To do
what
?”

Sevastyan just gave me a menacing smile, then locked the door.

F
or the next two hours, I sat stewing, getting more and more nauseated. I
had
still been buzzed all morning, and now my hangover hit
me with the force of a freight train.

I’d banged on the door, calling out, “I’m sick, Sevastyan! I need to take something.” He hadn’t come. So I could do nothing more than curl up on the bed, stomach
roiling. I was mustering the energy to go hold vigil at the toilet when the door opened.

Sevastyan said, “He’s here.”

I sat up, and the room started to spin. I half-heaved. “I’m sick.”

“Uh-huh. Of course you are. And right when the doctor arrives? How fortunate that we can get him to take a look at this other ailment.” He grabbed my arm, forcing me to stand.

I tottered. “
Sevastyan . . .
”

He gazed down at my face, scowled. “Fuck.” He released me. “Go.”

I sprinted for the toilet, and skidded to my knees just as I started vomiting. The bastard was right behind me, leaning in the doorway.

“Go away!”

The champagne smell made me heave again and again, until I felt like I’d thrown up bottles of the stuff.

Finally he left.

I emptied my stomach till I was too exhausted to do more. Somehow I made it to my feet and flushed the toilet. I used his toothbrush, then threw it away. I felt grimy, and I couldn’t lose
that sickly sweet champagne scent.

If I tried to take a shower, would I fall asleep under the water? I
should
fall asleep there.

I tossed a towel to the floor, turned on the rain showerhead, then sat with my knees to my chest. This was working! My nausea eased as sleep stole over me. I leaned my head against the wall, and
I was out. . . .

“
What the hell are you doing?
”

I blinked up at Sevastyan. How long had I slept? He looked furious, as usual.

He turned off the water, plucking me from the shower. He roughly dried me off, then dressed me in another T-shirt. “Get this over with, then I don’t care what you do.”

“A
re you happy now?” I demanded of Sevastyan when the doctor left.

I’d agreed to let the Miami “Gyno to the Rich” administer a morning-after shot
and
insert an IUD to prevent fertilization. Was that the Russian’s idea? He was that
paranoid?

He calmly sat on the living room couch. Though rain threatened, he had all the doors and windows open. “Happy? No. Satisfied that your plan won’t work?
Da.
”

Having some strange man examine me was bad enough, but Sevastyan had stayed in the room! He’d been there when the physician had said things like, “Definitely could’ve
conceived,” “Somebody certainly had a vigorous night,” and “What a tiny cervix; this will hurt.”

Sevastyan hearing that stuff was worse than the pinch of insertion. To add insult to injury, the two men had talked privately afterward. About my body!

I held out my palm. “I want my phone back. I wish I could say it’s been nice knowing you. . . .”

“You don’t get off this easily. I’ve mitigated the damage, but now you’ll pay for your crimes. You’ll stay here until I decide what to do with you.”

“You can’t just
keep
me!”

“Watch me. A deceitful little girl like you needs to learn not to fuck with a dangerous man like me.”

“You know what? Consider the phone a parting gift.” I grabbed my purse, coat, and shoes and bolted for the door, yanking it open.

In the lobby, Vasili spoke with two other suited men, holsters visible.

Though I expected them to stop me, I reached the elevator call button, pressing it repeatedly.

Nothing happened. I pressed it again. I had a sinking suspicion I’d now need a key to get off this floor. I turned to the stairwell, shoving on the door. Locked?

In broken English, Vasili said, “No leave.” The other two were impassive, like statues. Zero help there.

I marched back inside to Sevastyan. “You can’t do this!”

“Why not?”

I hurried to one of the room’s phones, pressing nine for an outside line. “I’m calling the agency. Anthony won’t allow this!”

“None of these phones will call outside the hotel. No Wi-Fi, no Internet. No communication for you. Oh, and
Anthony
? He couldn’t sell your body to me fast enough.”

“
En serio?! Hijo de puta cabrón!
” I pinched my brow. “I’ll figure out a way to get free of you. Unless you plan to chain me up twenty-four/seven.”

He grew very still. “Do not forget that I possess the means—and the inclination—to bind you in my bed.”

His script equipment. “What will it take to make you believe I didn’t try to deceive you? I would never have a child with someone like you. Much less plot to do it. And I would never
scheme to get my hands on someone else’s money!” To myself, I murmured, “This isn’t happening.” I paced. “Look, you need to understand some things about
me.”

He leaned back against the cushion. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

“I’ve never had so much champagne and didn’t know it would hit me like that. I don’t remember what I said, but I wouldn’t have told you I was on birth
control.”

“Why weren’t you?”

I stopped pacing, deciding to reveal part of the truth. “I haven’t had sex in a long time. You’re my first client.”

“If you wanted me to believe you were a novice, then you shouldn’t have acted like such a professional. When you spread your legs to me, purring, ‘How do you like variety now,
querido
?’ I wondered if even
I
might be out of my league with an escort like you.”

“You
are
my first! Ask Ivanna! She’ll tell you. She sent me here in her place because she had a reaction to Botox, and I needed the money. I almost backed out.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “You mean your first client—in Miami? I hear from your agency that you’re a pro from Tampa! Not to mention that Anthony had you booked into infinity
before I bought you.”

“You can’t buy me; I was never for sale!” Spanish left my lips, every vile curse word I knew. “If you didn’t want to get trapped, then why did you come in me? Why
not protect yourself?”

“I wanted no barriers. Which I discussed with you in advance! I should’ve known something was off when you didn’t try to charge me extra!”

Burn.
I balled my hands into fists. “What will it take to make you see reason?”

“Your name.”

I sucked in a breath. “
Jamás.
” Never.

“Then prepare for a stay.”

“How long?”

“In my world, when someone tries to steal from another, they are punished severely.”

In my world too. At least with Julia.

“You’ll remain until I’m satisfied you’ve paid for your greed.”

Sevastyan would probably get tired of me in a day or two, tops. The novelty would wear off. But if it didn’t, the most my captivity could last was another ten days. He was leaving town,
then going back to Russia.

To bad weather, Cat.
On the bright side, I was safer from Edward here than practically anywhere. Now that I was stuck in Miami till New Year’s, the tower began to feel like a
bastion.

Never would I have imagined that staying with a Russian mobster and his armed henchmen would be my safest play. Not only that—I’d be staying in the most expensive hotel room in
Miami. No creepy supe rubbing himself while leering at me. No cans of cheap soup, leaking roofs, and rough thrift-store sheets.

My biggest fear had been that I would fall for Sevastyan because the sex was so great. Now that he was showing his true colors, that wouldn’t be a problem.

I narrowed my eyes at him and thought,
Oh, no, Ruso! Don’t throw me in this briar patch!

I decided then that this would be my retreat—in both senses of the word. I’d bide my time and recharge. This problem had an endpoint to it, was on its way to being settled. Which
meant I could handle it.

“It looks like you’ve got me,” I said airily.

He frowned at my change in demeanor. Sevastyan had just acquired a “prisoner,” and the joke was on him.