Page 36 of Fake Fae-Ancée

My throat went thick. His eyes, which had just been golden when he’d been shifted, now sparkled darkly at me, framed by sooty black lashes. For a second, my body forgot how to inhale.

Where had I seen him before? His features were angular, but not sharp. And the dent in his nose only added to his appeal…

Ah yes! Exactly. He had probably been one of those wimps who couldn't believe that a woman could beat them at sparring.

Since I was incapable of protesting, he lifted me up in his arms like a fucking princess. Pretty damn powerful arms, I noticed. However, my leg hurt too much for me to have any time to blush about it.

"Let’s go," he said tersely. His face suddenly eerily close to mine, a set of really cute dimples appearing in his cheeks that had me holding my breath.

I could only nod as he set into motion, like a machine determined for anything.

Kai

Present Day

Back in Yuri’s Penthouse

"When exactly wereyou going to tell me that a killer is coming after me?"

I sat on one of the spacious sofas in Yuri’s show-off living-room.

He shot me another glare from the kitchen counter, where an elderly gentlemen in a spotless black suit was busy stitching up the wound on Kalinin’s bicep that had started bleeding again.

I hardly remembered getting here. Kalinin had shoved me unceremoniously into a limousine that had stopped with screeching tires in front of the wedding venue. He’d climbed in next to the driver — still completely naked. At this point I didn’t even find it weird anymore. I had stared blankly ahead, my brain frozen in pause-mode, while he had several angry phone calls, most of them in his mother tongue, and the driver chased us back to the city.

At least he had some clothes on now. Sweatpants and a black tank top. Which was rather relieving. He was so damn distracting, naked.

"I did literally tell you that," he just said, and winced as his butler — at least I deduced the man must be some kind of service person to Prince Charming, here — just rammed another needle into his biceps.

"I am sorry, Your Royal Highness," he muttered. "If you would just let me fetch the narcotics…"

"It’s alright, Bates," Yuri bit out.

"Very well, Your Royal Highness."

I pressed my mouth shut and looked down at my naked toes peeking out of the grey sweatpants I was wearing.

When we had arrived, the butler — Bates — had given me towels and a pile of clothes and left me to my own devices in one of the shiny bathrooms. I had showered the mud and dirt off my body and gratefully slipped into the fresh clothes. They were of course several sizes too big for me, especially the oversized sweater I now sank deeper into, glad to escape the uncomfortable silence.

Okay, fine. He had told me about the killer. But I’d rather smash my head on the coffee table than admit that he’d been right.

The butler cut the last thread, sprayed some disinfectant on Kalinin’s arm.

"This should heal up quite nicely, Your Royal Highness," he said like he’d just served a pheasant at a state banquet. The corners of my mouth twitched as Yuri slid off the barstool, cheeks flushing, and reached for his hoodie that was lying on the counter.

"Thank you, Bates," he said. "Please prepare some tea for our guests. They should be here any minute."

My pointy ears twitched. Guests?

"Right away, Your Royal Highness."

"Thank you."

The butler bowed curtly to Yuri, then to me, and left the living room with a measured stride. I wrapped my arms around my knees, looking after him.

"Where does he prepare the tea? The kitchen is here, isn't it?"

"The actual kitchen and staff quarters are one floor down," Yuri muttered, zipping up his black hoodie. The fabric stretched over his thick arms.

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