Page 11 of His Ruthless Match

“I don’t babysit.” Jareth smirked over the rim of his cup. “I protect.”

“I don’t need protecting,” I said icily. I’d worked very hard not to be someone who needed to be protected. “What I need is for people to stay the fuck out of my way.”

Jareth leaned back, unbothered by my hostility. “You’re in over your head with this Witt case, Delgado. Too much attention and not enough self-preservation instincts. Fragile human and all that.”

I clenched my fists. “Fragile?”

“I said what I said.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Your brother is concerned that, given all the extra attention, someone will figure out you’re his sister. And if that happens, you’ll immediately become a target. Not sure whether you realize this, but your brother’s a big fucking deal in The Below, and he has countless enemies.”

“And?”

Ignoring my tone, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek bracelet. “Vivian has been playing around with more tech and magic inventions. Your brother insisted that I utilize her newest creation. This little beauty tracks your movements, monitors your heart rate, and lets me get to you quickly if shit goes sideways.”

“Absolutely the fuck not,” I said, crossing my arms again. “I’ve been on my own and handling myself foryears. I don’t need anyone stepping in and making decisions for me.”

Jareth slid the bracelet across the table. “It’s not up for debate. You know how powerful your brother is. I don’t need to remind you what happens if you piss him off.”

The two of us stared each other down, tension thrumming between us. After a moment, I snatched the bracelet off the table.

“Nope,” Jareth said, smirking again. “I have to put it on. Orders.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I snapped, but he was already standing.

To my horror, Jareth knelt in front of me, his hands deftly fastening the bracelet around my wrist. A collective gasp rose from the patrons around us, followed by a chorus of murmurs and a few camera flashes.

“Oh my god,” someone whispered.

“Is he proposing?” another voice asked.

I glanced down at Jareth, who looked entirely too pleased with himself. “Get up,” I hissed, my cheeks burning.

He stood, his expression unapologetic as he turned to the gawkers. “Delete the photos,” he barked.

One by one, the bystanders deleted their pictures, their faces pale under his scrutiny. When he was satisfied, Jareth turned back to me, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a matching bracelet.

“Twinsies,” he said, holding his wrist up next to mine.

Scowling, I slapped his hand away.

“Several things are going to happen,” Jareth said, his tone shifting back to business. “You need to take me back to your office and give me access to your electronic calendar. I’ll need to know your whereabouts at all times.”

“Not happening today,” I said. “I’ll schedule a time for you to come by the office. Eventually. Also, I thought that’s what the bracelet’s for,” I added, waving my wrist in his direction. “Tracking my every move.”

“Failsafe,” he replied simply. “I’ll also be creating safeguards and wards around your office.”

“Hell no. My office is secure. Next.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine. I’ll swing by your apartment tonight to go over safety measures there.”

I stood abruptly. “I guess I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“You’re not going to eat your pastry?” he asked, pointing to the untouched treat on the table.

I looked at it with disdain. “No. It probably has cat hair in it.”

I turned and strode out, shuddering in faux disgust.

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