Page 5 of Untamed

And I scroll.

And I scroll.

I feel my lips curve into a smirk, the kind that typically makes my enemies rethink their decisions.

They want…us?

They don’t. No, they really,reallydon’t.

They think they want us—the barbed-wire promises, the wolves lurking just beyond the storybook light. But what they want is the illusion of us, not the raw, vicious truth. No woman wants my calloused, bloodstained hand in her hair—or, more accurately, wrapped around her throat, pinning her to my headboard, or—heh. Maybe thatwasa good drink.

I tap my finger against my jaw. I still have a job to do before I go back home, but January in Moscow is frigid as fuck, and if I’m honest, I might not want to move here, but this weather feels downright balmy. And it’s nice not having to put up with the daily discerning eye and constant criticism of my eldest brother.

I look back over at the giggling party girls. They’re glued to their screens, their expressions dreamy as they giggle over obviously fake videos with posers— men wearing masks from a goddamn party store, their weapons a sham. It’s like some sort of cosplay gone bad.

I can’t help but snort when a few of the videos havethreemen, ropes in hand, masks hiding fuck knows what, with a low growl of a man’s voice.“We’re coming for you. And when we find you, beware…”

It's so damnfake.

Obviously,a real man didn’t fuckingshare.This is the stupidest shit I ever?—

My hand hovers over thexat the top of the page, ready to shut it down, when I see…her.

Fiery red hair tied back in a thick ponytail, a mischievous spark in her jade-green eyes.

She’s so different from the other videos I’ve seen, so authentic. Unlike the fake thirst traps or heavily edited videos, she looks candid and excited, as if she can’t wait to talk about her latest book.

She looks…real. Strong. And even though she’s wearing a plain white top and a pair of jeans, the girl fills themout.She has the body of a gymnast, tightly wound and powerful. My breath slows as I take her in—sparkling green eyes, a strength in her every movement that makes my fingers itch to touch her, to feel if she’s as real as she looks.

“Girls,” she says, shaking her head.

Girls? Was she completely unaware of the absolute magnetic pull a woman like her had on a man like me?

I’m instantly, irrationally filled with rage toward any other man who sets eyes on her. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever seen before.

“Stop what you’re doingright nowand read this book.” She holds up a black and gold book with raised lettering, the edges sprayed gold, as she flips through it. “You’ve never heard of it before. No one has. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever read before. And this book.” She shakes her head and bites her lip.

That single motion—her teeth grazing her lip—ignites something primal. It’s the smallest tell. I’ve honed my observation skills, and I know how to read body language. It’s part of my job description, and partly why I can so easily spot lies. She reallydoeswant what she’s reading about.

This girlwantsto surrender, even if she doesn’t know it yet. I’d make damn sure she learned what that meant.

I swallow hard and watch.

She lowers her voice to a whisper. I hold my breath, mesmerized by her voice, the way she talks, even the way her fingers grip around the book in her hand. I imagine what it would be like to have those hands splayed over my body or pinned in one hand while I fisted her gorgeous hair in the other. I’d fuck her right against that bookshelf until she screamed for mercy… until she knew the difference between fiction and reality and never again fell for a goddamn book boyfriend when she belonged tome.

“This looks tame, doesn’t it? A poor school teacher on holiday in the wild Scottish moors. A single father, mourning the loss of his wife while navigating the world alone…” Her voice drops. “Onlythisguy’s in the mafia, and he’ll stop atnothing…”Her voice drops even lower. “Nothingto claim her.”

She shakes her head. I hold my breath. She fingers the golden edges, and my dick comes tolife.

“When I tell you there’sno linethis man won’t cross for her…” She shakes her head as if completely overcome with emotion. “Chases her in the woods… kidnaps her in the back of his car… fucks her blindfolded in an abandoned warehouse while suspending her from?—”

She covers her mouth as if she’s said too much.

“You’ll have to take my word for it.”

My mouth is dry. This woman iscompletelyunaware of what she’s playing with. She doesn’t realize the line she’s walking—romanticizing the very thing that could destroy her.

“Careful what you wish for,” I mutter under my breath before I down the rest of my bourbon.

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