Page 94 of Untamed Beast
“It’s up to Natalia?—”
“Then shut up, put on a nicer shirt, and meet us at the door in half an hour.”
I look regretfully at my own plate of pasta as she drags me upstairs to get dressed. “Vera, I don’t know. I don’t think I like loud music. Or tons of people.”
She shakes her head as if I’m being silly. “You’ve never had the chance to find out. You’ll love this club. Trust me. It willdistract you from whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours.”
By the time she’s done giving me an elaborate makeover, I barely recognize myself. Not under the dark eyeliner, layers of sparkly eyeshadow and shimmery highlighter. My face is practically a disco ball.
And the outfit that Vera has chosen for me doesn’t exactly divert attention, either. The pale pink, lacy bodysuit leaves a ton of skin on display, while a black silk skirt hugs all of my curves. My hair is half-up in a ponytail, with a few curls framing my face.
Leks's gaze settles on me and doesn’t leave as I walk downstairs to the living area, walking carefully in stilettos. When we reach him, Vera presents me with a dramatic flourish.
He doesn’t say a word, just pulls me in for a kiss that drags a moan straight out of my throat. My face flames. I guess he likes the outfit.
Then he pulls back and takes another look at me, a glint of anticipation in his eyes.
“Well, fuck. I’m gonna have to bring Yuri with me for backup.”
“Wise choice. Natalia, what your husband means to say is that you look so fucking hot you’re going to start like a thousand fights.”
“At least.” His arm wraps around my waist, his grip heavy and possessive.
My stomach flips. Why is Leks okay with this? “Doesn’t that mean we should just stay home?”
That seems like the most logical solution to me.
Vera gives a cackle and loops her arm through mine,dragging us towards the door where she’s called a car. “What are you talking about? You’re gonna hold your husband back from a good fight?”
My mouth drops open. “Is this why you’ve agreed to go to the club? Because you want a fight?”
He shrugs his big shoulders while I look up at him in outrage. Then his gaze drops to me, hot and possessive. “It’salsoworth it to see you dressed like this.”
I dig an elbow into his side, which is always annoyingly ineffective. His torso is practically made of stone.
“You are not ruining a fun club night by getting arrested.”
Vera snorts. “As if. The place we’re headed is owned by the Petrovs. The cops in that part of the city are so well paid that they wouldn’t come near the place unless the Zodiac Killer was hiding in the basement.”
“Don’t worry,zolotse, I don’t go around beating up random club patrons. Only if they’re asking for it.” His gaze drops to my outfit and I feel it glide over my cleavage, the curve of my hips, right down to the pointed toe of the glossy black stilettos. “Which… I’m pretty sure they will be.”
Yuri has the exact same reaction when we pick him up. Sometimes it’s like him and Leks share the same brain cell. His face splits into a huge fucking grin when he sees what I’m wearing. “Oh, we’re getting in so many fights tonight.”
I glare at Leks, trying to hide the part of me that is excited to see exactly what kind of chaos they’re planning to create. I hate seeing Leks get hurt…but another, more cavewoman-like part of me, craves watching him fight. Especially when it’s about me.
I sigh, pretending to be more annoyed than I am. “You can fight. But only if you dance with me, too.”
He smirks. “Oh, trust me,zolotse. We’ll be doing both.”
I adjust his collar. He’s dressed in his absolutely standard black shirt and black pants. I mean, he always looks good…but this feels unfair. “Why do you get to wear normal clothes?”
“Because men are boring,” Vera interjects, and then the cab pulls to a stop outside what looks like a queue of 500 people on the pavement.
We stride right to the front of the line, the bouncer taking one look at Vera and waving us inside.
The wall of noise hits me. Then the throngs of people. Suddenly, my outfit doesn’t feel out of place at all. If anything, it’s modest in comparison to all the cut-outs and mini-dresses on the dance floor.
Immediately, I’m pulled into a perfumed hug of a man wearing eyeshadow to rival my own.
