The Player (The Game Maker #3) - Kresley Cole Page 0,74

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 research 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