Page 13 of Protected By the Wolven

I’m stunned. Though I don’t know what I expected, I certainly didn’t think I’d be offered a lifeline that wouldn’t involve being detained for months or years. But most surprising of all? Lash, a male I’ve known for less than two full days, just offered to be my fiancé.

For the swiftest moment, I want to slide to the floor between his feet and thank him over and over. Then my thoughts sober. This poor male has been nothing but kind to me, but to offer to be my fiancé? To commit to marrying a woman without a penny to her name, someone he knows nothing about. I can’t let him do that.

“No. Thank you, Lash, but this isn’t right. Miss Samantha, what happens now? Do you need to call the authorities to pick me up? I can’t accept Lash’s very kind offer.”

Through his obvious surprise, Lash murmurs calming words, repeating over and over that he’s willing to do it. I answer with only one word, “No.” I’m a good person. Too good to ruin a male’s life when he makes an impulsive offer to help a woman he barely knows.

When Lash argues with me, saying he’s serious, I look to Samantha for help.

“She’s right, Lash. The government takes this very seriously. You can’t mock this process. You can’t just go through the motions. You can’t lie about your relationship. You have to mean it.”

“I do!”

This male, so very stern and scary the moment he found me wandering alone in the Zone, pierces me with his silvery gaze and repeats, “I will do this.”

I’m about to argue with him and again ask Samantha to take me to detention when Marissa breaks in.

“I have an idea.”

We all stop speaking. I imagine we all desperately want to hear a new idea that will save me from endless jail time.

“Samantha, what if you file this thing, the one you say there’s a precedent for? And what if Zoya and Lash follow the spirit of the K-1 visa? What if they spend the ninety days allowed by law to get to know each other? Look.” She pointedly stares at my small hand engulfed in Lash’s large, warm one.

“You obviously are developing a friendship. Why send this poor woman to detention? Why not use the law the way it’s intended? Let these two have some fun. Get to know each other. Besides, it will give us ninety days to seek other remedies while Zoya stays out of detention.”

Samantha doesn’t hesitate to agree. “That’s not a bad idea. It gives us all some breathing room. Time to find some alternatives. That is, Lash, if you’re serious.”

He leans close, gently grips my shoulders, and peers into my eyes.“Sure, I want to help you, Zoya. But that’s not all of it. I’ve felt something since almost the moment we met. How about you?”

My mouth turns dry, but I nod, because I can’t argue with his statement. I’ve felt so comfortable with him since I got over how terrifying he looked.

“I’d like to give this a try, Zoya. That is, if you’re willing.”

Am I? Am I willing to stay with him? See if by some odd turn of fate, the male who rescued me could develop true feelings for me? And see if my feelings are deeper than just gratefulness.

“Yes. We can try.”

Chapter Thirteen

Lash

After Marissa and Samantha leave, the reality of the situation hits me.

Holy shit. Did I really just agree to be Zoya’s fake fiancé? Tomarryher if this crazy plan works out? What was I thinking?

Pictures of movies where the main couple fights constantly flash through my mind:The War of the Roses—that ended in death, right?;Mr. and Mrs. Smith—did they both die, too?; and other movies too numerous to mention. That’s what happens when people marry for all the wrong reasons.

And isn’t there that old saying, “Marry in haste, repent at leisure?” My earlier elation has evaporated, and now my stomach is coiling in knots.

Although my body is rebelling, part of me is euphoric that Zoya is staying, that I can keep her safe. What a mess. This is exciting and terrifying and it’s all made more dramatic because I barely know this woman and now my future is tied to hers.

I sneak a glance at Zoya. She’s smiling shyly at me, her blue eyes sparkling with hope and gratitude. My heart stutters. She’s stunning, fading bruises and all. And she’s counting on me.

Okay, breathe, Lash. You can do this. One day at a time.

“So, uh, what now?” I aim for a lighthearted tone despite my racing thoughts.

Zoya tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Well, I did promise to make you pierogies…”

---