Page 10 of How To Please A Princely Fae

"Do you know where you are?" I tack it on, thinking as fast as I can. "Do you know your name?" I follow up, since he’s failed to answer any of my rapid-fire questions.

"Of course, I know my name," he says, scoffing. "And of course I know where I am." He says, although this time there's a definite uncertainty in the pronunciation.

"Then where are you?" The question is full of trepidation.

Frankly, I don't know what to do with the gorgeous male I’ve been lusting after for weeks, who doesn't know who he is, or who I am, or, for that matter, where we are.

Or why he’s naked in my bed.

In fact, I am one hundred percent sure that I would not know what to do with anyone in this situation.

My heart pounds under my ribs and I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Panic never got anyone anywhere. In fact, I grow multiple plants and brew several potions for just this exact feeling, precisely so I can avoid feeling it at all costs.

Me and my customers, of course.

Unfortunately, accessing any of those would require me somehow getting out of Kieran’s iron grip, which just keeps getting tighter.

"Right," I say, as he continues to not answer. "Can you tell me your name?"

"I am Kieran, prince of the Underhill," he says. His nose wrinkles, though, and that hangdog, forlorn expression returns to his face. "Though, I have to admit I'm not sure I know what either of those things mean."

I blow out a breath and slump against my pillow—or where my pillow ought to be, but is just his muscly arm.

There’s no doubt in my mind. He isn’t acting.

This isn't some cruel joke, and while I'm relieved my coven sisters have not decided to torment me into dedicating myself to or wedding or whatever an Elder God… I'm also terrified of what this means for Kieran.

No one deserves to have their memories taken.

Did the Elder Gods that showed up last night do this? Are they somehow to blame?

Have I somehow painted a target on my back? Have they decided that removing Kieran from my immediate sphere wouldallow them better access to me or one of the other witches right away?

While a little mean part of me finds that somewhat appealing, because for once it would mean that someone is taking an interest in me romantically… it's also incredibly unappealing. The last thing I want is to end up in some arranged marriage to whatever the hells the Elder Gods are. Logic tells me I don’t want to marry anyone who crashes an autumn festival to demand a stranger’s hand in marriage.

I sniff. Very uncouth behavior.

Kieran still stares at me, a puppy dog expression firmly in place. He's never looked quite so adorable as he does right now, naked in my bed. Which is a problem, of course it's a problem.

"You can't just get into people's beds naked, Kieran," I tell him.

"I'm not sure how I got here," he says quietly.

Guilt swims through me.

It seems being angry with him would make about as much sense as punishing a Venus fly trap for catching a fly, when it's just in the plant’s nature to make a meal of an insect.

"Well,” I say, breathing out slowly, trying to control my rampaging thoughts. "Can you start by moving away from me?"

"I'm comfortable," he says, and this time there's no mistaking his arrogance. It shouldn’t surprise me, not considering he’s an Unseelie fae prince, but it does.

It’s as new a behavior quirk as everything else he’s done this morning, and I’m realizing I might not know this naked man in my bed at all.

Which, honestly, should be more troubling a thought than it is.

"Get off me," I say, my voice strained.

If he doesn't get off of me soon, I'm fairly sure I will ask him to get off with me, which would be an even bigger problem.It cannot be ethical to ask an amnesiac to satisfy your need for cock.

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