Page 27 of Fangs for the Memories (Budapest Bites #1)

F erenc backs off once the assistant, Katya, comes back in. The atmosphere, which seemingly had all the oxygen sucked out of it, returns to something approximating normal.

However, I feel like I’ve done a round in a boxing ring. My chest is tight and my head somehow bruised and filled with a fog.

Ferenc retreats back to his couch, where he lounges back, legs wide apart, in the very definition of powerful masculine and, well, wolf. His eyes follow my every move as Katya takes me through the outfits she’s picked out.

Once I’ve selected those I like, she puts them in the changing area, which is nearly the same size as the salon itself, and pulls the curtain closed.

I stare at the clothing. Most of it has price tags which would make anyone’s eyes water, regardless if they’re in Forint or not.

My phone chimes with a text. The group chat is blowing up, especially since I haven’t been replying. There are calls for a search party.

I’m absolutely fine, having a great time.

Eliza

Have you met a tall dark Hungarian yet?

Kezia

More to the point have you banged a tall dark Hungarian yet?

Sophia

More to the point have you done anything or anyone we wouldn’t have done yet?

Lucy

Everything’s about sex with all of you, isn’t it?

Kezia

Why not, just because you’re not getting any

Lucy

I am too

Eliza

Lydia

Lucy

So, Grace, any action yet?

I snort into my hand. Talk about deflecting Lucy!

I’ve made a friend and we’re seeing Budapest together

Eliza

Is it a man?

Kezia

Is it a man?

Lydia

Are you banging yet?

Seriously? I’ve been here a few days and I just got left at the altar.

No banging will be taking place on this holiday.

Sophia

Boo

Lydia

Boo

I’m shaking my head and giggling when Lucy opens a private chat with me.

Lucy

Hey

Hey, everything okay?

I don’t even get the three dots. There is simply nothing. Perhaps she’s punishing me for ignoring her for the past few days.

Lucy

Mark’s bit on the side is pregnant

The enormity of the words almost blindside me. I stare at it for what seems like forever.

“Do you require any assistance?” Katya calls from the other side of the curtain.

“Er…no,” I reply, shoving my phone back into the coat pocket hurriedly before shrugging it off to toss on yet another large couch. “I’m fine.”

I pull off the first outfit, slide into it, hardly even looking at what I’m wearing. It fits perfectly. Katya clearly knows her job.

“Underwear?” Katya trills, pulling the curtain to one side.

As she does, I see Ferenc. He’s not looking at his phone, bored. Instead he’s in the same position I left him, his wolfish eyes entirely concentrated on me.

A shiver runs up my spine. What have I got myself into? And what does it matter anymore?

I thank Katya in Hungarian and take the proffered selection without looking at it, tearing my eyes away from Ferenc.

If I give in to what my lady parts want, I’m only going to regret it.

My heart is too fragile. As much as I know now I didn’t love Mark, he was a huge part of my life for the last year even if all he was doing was using me and banging his baby mama on the side, and I can’t turn off that side of me like a lamp.

I can’t undo everything he did to me, in particular clean my soul of every last vestige of trust in another person not to do the same again.

But Ferenc’s eyes, those dark pools—it’s as if they’re daring me to do something wild.

Like wear designer clothes I couldn’t ever afford new, in a store I would never voluntarily visit, while a mafia werewolf boss waits for me to try on underwear.

I look at the handful of items Katya has handed me.

They’re all pure silk, black, of course, and in my correct size. They are as far from being practical as possible, but also, they aren’t skimpy lacy things which will disappear up my backside half a second after putting them on.

I wonder who might have picked these out as I try them on. The bra is possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever worn, and the soft panties are like butter against my skin.

“Are these simple enough for you?” Ferenc’s voice growls behind me.

I jump in the air because I’ve clearly not had enough jump scares recently and need another one.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” I grumble, grabbing hold of a jumper and holding it over my chest.

Even though we’ve shared a bed, a bath, and he’s seen me in my own underwear, for some reason, I still want to cover myself. Keep some of the mystery.

“I’m sampling the merchandise.” Ferenc rubs the silk of my knickers between his finger and thumb, and a soft smile plays over his face.

“Because you’re the one paying?”

“I’m not paying for anything which doesn’t pass the test,” he rumbles.

“And what’s the test?”

Ferenc leans closer.

“That you like it,” he rasps in my ear. “And you look good in it. Really damn good.”