Page 55 of Untamed

Her jaw drops slightly, a flush rising to her cheeks again. “I—what?”

“You heard me,” I say, my smirk returning. “Your apartment is a hazard. I’m not letting you live there while some asshole’s breathing down your neck.”

She takes a step back, shaking her head. “I don’t know about this.”

“Then it’s off.” My temper flares. There’s no way it’s actually off. She’s given me exactly what I want—a chance to protect her. But she isn’t making it easy.

Ember plants her hands on her hips. “You think I’m asking you to protect me, to keep me away from an actual predator, and I’m going to do this by putting myself in the close proximity of a stranger who claims he’sBratva? How can you claim you want me to be safe and make good decisions, then make an offer likethat?”

Fair point.

“Fine,” I say, letting out an exaggerated sigh. I’ll let her have her way. For now. “Stay in your place, but we’re dating. Officially.Publicly. But if we’re dating, I’m taking you on a date.”

“Fake dating,” she corrects, her voice firm. She glares at me, but there’s a flicker of something else behind her eyes. Curiosity? Intrigue? I don’t care what it is—it’s enough to keep her standing here, enough to keep me in her orbit.

“Listen, Ember. I’ll gladly keep you safe, but I want this clear. If we’re pretending to date, you’re getting thefullBratva experience.”

She nods. “Alright, but another condition of mine?”

I grin at her and nod. Relief floods through me.

“No mask.”

Chapter 12

EMBER

And that’show I ended up agreeing to go on atripwith a badass, tattooed Bratva boy—erm,man.

I asked for epic? Turns out we’re heading to New York next weekend.

I can still hear Shawn’s question.

Are you her security?

Yes. Yes, he is, and I fucking love it.

Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I’ve spent too much time dwelling on fantasy and fiction.

Or maybe every time I’m anywhere near him, every cell in my body comes to life.

“Wait.” I’m lying on my bed, my knees propped up, my latest book calling to me, but I’ve got Rodion on the phone, and I have questions for him. Easing into this fake relationship thing is working out better than I thought.

“So you want me to go to this… gala, whatever that is. I’ll need a fancy dress? And shoes and makeup…” My mind whirs with the details.

“Maybe give me a little credit. I already know all your sizes and sent them to the stylists, along with that style board you pinned.”

I shake my head. Of course he did.

He’s sliding into my fantasies the way he slid into my DMs, like a book boyfriend come to life, and I… am not really sure how I feel about this.

We’ve talked every single night since that run-in with Shawn and my self-defense lessons. I’ve had photo shoots, and he’s been busy with “work.”

I haven’t asked him what that work entails, and he hasn’t offered details. Maybe it’s better that way.

I swallow hard. “Who will be there? Will this be like… you know… swimming in shark-infested waters, or…”

“It will be exactly that.” He says something under his breath in Russian that sounds very much like a curse. “Which is why we need to make sure we’re on the same page about you doing what the fuck you’re told.”

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