Ransome Rozanov is coming in hot.
Literally, as a matter of fact. He’s moving like a freight train, stopping right next to me, close enough that, when I look up, I have to lean back a little so I’m not just staring right at his crotch.
“Ransome—I mean, Mr. Rozanov, what?—”
“Holy shit, is that your boss?” Electra asks, clearly amused.
“Miss Parker. I have been trying to get a hold of you nonstop.”
I blink, pulling my phone out of my purse. But before I can say anything about how there’s no missed calls or texts, he cuts me off again.
“We have work to do—or have you forgotten?”
I literally have no words. I’m not sure if I actually have something I forgot to do or what, but I do know one thing—I have never seen Ransome’s eyes this dark, especially not towards me.
“I’m sorry, who did you say you are again?” Jonathan scoffs.
Ransome’s eyes shift to him and his glare deepens. It’s a wonder the man doesn’t just burst into flames on the spot.
“I am Ransome Rozanov, CEO of Apex Energy, and this young lady is coming with me.”
My heart is hurling itself into my ribcage with every beat. But as his hand touches my shoulder (emphasis ontouches. He’s touching me),I find myself standing, my thigh freeing from Jonathan’s grip.
“This is absurd. She’s not on the clock. She’s having dinner. On a date…” Jonathan is stupid enough to go on despite the storm clouds gathering in Ransome’s face.
“Amara is my personal assistant. She isalwayson the clock. And your date is over.”
Before anyone can say anything else, Ransome’s hand slides to my lower back and he starts walking, which means I start walking, too.
Without a word, he leads me off the patio and around the corner from the restaurant. It isn’t until we are out of anyone’s sight that I look up at him.
“I’m so sorry. If you tried to call, it didn’t go through. I don’t have any messages, either. You can look at my?—”
“There were no messages.” Then he snaps his mouth shut.
I blink, more confused than I was before.
“So what was that all abou?—?”
“You were in distress. I intervened. You’re welcome.”
The audacity of it makes me giggle ironically. “I… I don’t know if I’d say I wasdistressed. I mean, he was a bit forward but?—”
“He was a fucking creep, Amara.”
I don’t know if it’s the fact that Ransome is towering over me, his words suffocating my own like a hand to the throat. Or if it’s the fact he’s saying my name. He never says my name. It’s enough to make me shiver and I wonder if he notices.
Focus!
Boss or not, hot or not, I’m not a fan of being coddled and reprimanded.
“No offense, Mr. Rozanov, but I’m not a teenager. I’m not a damsel. And I don’t need to be rescued when a guy gets a little handsy.”
“The death grip he had on your thigh told me differently. I bet that leech left a fucking handprint.”
He doesn’t wait for permission. His gaze drops, hot and lethal, and his fingers catch the hem of my dress. He lifts it a few inches—no higher than he has to, but enough to make me shiver yet again—just enough for the streetlight to paint my skin. His jaw turns to granite.
“Zvezda…” It’s almost a growl. His thumb hovers over the mottled marks, not quite touching, like even that would be too much. “He marked you.”
