Page 20 of Under His Protection

Fuck me. I wanted to hear her say my name again, like she’d cried it out when I made her come.

Clenching my teeth, I ignored my desire and walked away.

8

NINA

Nina

“What’s your name?” I asked the butler as he led me up the stairs.

“George, Ms. Bardot.”

I studied his profile, amused that he’d stick to such formality. I wasn’t anyone to impress. As a working-class woman, I related more with him than the man I was supposed to be “dating”.

“Just call me Nina,” I told him, shaking my head at how surreal my life was becoming. In the span of hours, my existence had been shaken up and distorted so much that I didn’t know which way was up.

First, the audacity of Ricky betting on me—and losing. Then, the fear that Reaper and his bikers would come to capture me. Running into Dante was a strange occurrence, but the way he told me to “play along” as he kissed me and fingered me…

I moved my hand to the other arm and pinched slightly. Pain stung at the point.

Yep. This is real. I’m actually here, fake dating him.

It wasn’t a dream. Or in light of the bet Ricky lost, it was not a nightmare any longer, either. Dante had shown up at just the right moment and offered me an easy out. Like a hero in the books I liked to read, he’d suggested a solution to spare me from going to an awful gang of bikers.

Instead of trying to accept that my life had really changed this quickly in so many ways in such a short time, I zoned out and took in my surroundings. I felt out of place and dirty as George led me up the grand staircase. It seemed like I was touring a museum with all the fine artwork hung on the tall walls. And as I turned toward a pair of ornately decorated and carved double doors, I braced myself for the rest of this experience of being a fish out of water, of thinking the old story of a pauper and a prince could be reality.

The massive bedroom suite George guided me to enter was fit for royalty. For a princess. Someone with power and importance.

I stood there, gobsmacked, as I scanned the details. Creamy pink walls with crown molding that would be a bitch to dust and clean. Two chandeliers twinkling with subdued light. Like a sea of plush comforters and pillows, the bed waited for me to mess it up. Even the carpet was immaculate, so soft and smooth, looking brand-new to the degree that I worried my junky, falling-apart shoes would stain it.

“I…” I shook my head, slowly snapping myself out of this stupor. “I can’t stay here.”

George frowned. “Mr. Constella specified your guest room to be the nearest to his private quarters.”

I blinked, frowning at this perfect, luxurious place. “I heard that, but… No. I can’t.” I shook my head again.

“Is there something not to your liking? I can call the housekeeper and?—”

I lifted my hand to stop him from pulling his phone out from his pocket any further. “No! No. Don’t bother anyone.” Not on my account.

“Ms. Bardot?—”

“Nina. Please.” I swallowed past the lump of emotions clogging my throat. “Please don’t treat me like I’m some sort of star guest or important figure.” I added a light chuckle. “It’s making this all the more… weird.”

He nodded, rocking back onto the soles of his feet. “I see.”

I scrunched my face. “Do you?” I wasn’t sure if butlers were allowed to share opinions. I wanted his, though. Could this older man recognize how out of place I was here? How utterly different I was and that I couldn’t belong here, in this room or as Dante’s fake anything?

“I can arrange for you to have another room.” He raised his brows.

“No, please. No trouble.” I sighed and glanced around the room again, worried I’d break something or dirty a surface. “This is fine.”

He nodded, and I could have sworn he smiled slightly. “I’ll have Maura bring some clothing options in for you.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t even thought that far ahead, what I could wear tonight. I didn’t have pajamas. I had nothing but the uniform I'd had no chance to change out of since my shift ended. Thinking about clothes or personal belongings seemed so frivolous in this context. Figuring out how to adjust to moving in here to pretend to be Dante’s girlfriend was enough of a monkey wrench in my life.

How would I get my things? And how long would I even be here? Dante and I hadn’t put a time limit on this farce, but with his little warning that he was a busy businessman who wouldn’t be here to keep me company, I figured my presence would expire sooner than later.

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