Page 25 of The Bratva Bosses' Nanny

Chapter 10: Bite for Bite

Nikolai

I pull the car smoothly up to the dock, where the yacht sways gently on the water, a private sea beast ready to take us into its belly.

Emma’s eyes go wide. “I thought we were having dinner.”

“We are,” I reply, stepping out of the car and rounding the hood to open her door.

She looks at me, then at the yacht, a silent question in her gaze. I offer my hand, a silent command more than an invitation. She hesitates, just for a second, before placing her hand in mine.

I help her onto the yacht, feeling the familiar surge of control as she steps aboard. The staff is minimal—just the captain and a few others to serve food. I like the privacy.

The yacht starts moving. Emma stands close to the rail, looking out over the water, the sea breeze tugging at her hair.

“Not what you expected?”

She shakes her head. “Not even close.”

I lead her to where the dinner is set up, an immaculate spread under the open sky. “I hope you’re not vegan or something.”

“And if I were? Would we be dining on seaweed and starlight?”

I can’t help but smirk at her quick wit. “If you were, I’d have the chef whip up the finest vegan feast. But for the record, there’s steak on the menu.”

“Good,” she replies, a playful challenge in her eyes. “Because I could probably eat more steak than you.”

That earns a full-blown laugh from me. “Is that a challenge, Miss Emma?”

She takes her seat, the light from the candles flickering in her eyes. “Consider the gauntlet thrown.”

I take my seat across from her, trying to keep things light but there’s something in her gaze which makes me feel I’m looking at a caged animal. She’s wary, and rightfully so.

But I’m not about to let that stop me from enjoying the evening. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“You don’t already know everything there is to know about me? Isn’t that your job?”

I chuckle. “Touché. But I want to know more than just the name of your high school or where you grew up.”

“Wow. That’s creepy.”

“My job, remember? And don’t act like you already don’t have these posted all over your Instagram.”

“You went through my Instagram?”

I shrug. “I had to do my research. Plus, I’m a curious guy. Sue me.”

“I actually might.” She sips on her wine.

I lean forward, intrigued by the challenge in her eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Well, maybe I’ll have to come up with something worth suing you for,” she says, “like kidnapping me.”

I chuckle. “And how would you explain going on a date with your ‘kidnapper’,” I air quote.

“Is this a date now? I thought we were having a dinner on a yacht.”

“Right,” I drawl, pouring us both more wine. “Just a casual dinner on a yacht in the middle of the ocean.”

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