Page 48 of My Trojan Horse Majesty

I can’t breathe.

Like, I can’t breathe at all.

He lifts his finger, and air rushes into my lungs. It’s like, while he’s touching me, while he’s saying things I have no idea how to process, my body just stops working right. “I—I need to shower.”

“Alone, I’m assuming?” His eyebrows lift just a little, his eyes dancing. “Pity.”

While Irunlike a scared rabbit back to the bathroom, I hear him laughing in the other room.

Chapter14

Izzy

While I’m showering, I finally have time to think things through. One question keeps bothering me. Why was Leonid at my parents’ farm?

That question leads to a whole host of other questions. Why was he stuck in Steve’s stallion paddock? Did my parents find him? Was he acting insane because he was really a man? Is that why they locked him up? And what’s the connection between my family and Leonid? I feel like if we can figure that out, we might have a shot at breaking the bond that he apparently no longer wants to break.

I shiver again, just thinking of what he said.

And how he said it.

Which is stupid. If I thought Tim was too good for me, the gorgeous, supermodel leader of Russia iswaytoo good for me. Plus, what would I do if I wanted to make this work? Move to Russia? I can’t even consider that. My entire life’s here.

Not to mention, I don’t speak a single word of their language.

By the time I’m clean, I feel better, but I’ve also screwed up my resolve to get some answers. I spend a little too much time getting dressed, and if I put on my brand new, expensive, birthday-present dress that Mom got me from Tecovas, well. I rarely have cause to wear anything nice. It’s a deep brownish maroon with tiny stars on it, and it really accentuates my ample bosom and narrow waist. Or at least, that’s what Mom said when she bought it.

I haven’t worn it yet—I was saving it.

That thought makes me feel kind of stupid for putting it on. It’s not like I like really think Leo and I. . . It’s just that, if we’re going shopping, I should at least look presentable. If someone recognizes him, they’ll be sure to take photos of us. I’d rather not have my time with him memorialized as some kind of scrubby country bumpkin following the czar of Russia around.

That’s a good reason to look presentable, actually. Instead of ducking out in a rush, I swipe on some eye shadow and mascara, just in case. I almost never wear makeup, but I should look my best for any possible photos. When I finally emerge, Leonid’s not watching television at all. He’s not even pretending to watch. He’s flipping through an old photo album and smiling.

“You’re just digging through my stuff now?”

He doesn’t even look remotely guilty when he looks up. “Yes, I am.”

I scowl. “I can’t go through your stuff. Don’t you think that’s unfair?”

He leaps to his feet gracefully and stalks toward me.

Even with a stained shirt, pants that are too short, and a very used pair of sneakers, he looks like something from a television show. Polished. Smooth. Teeth-grittingly handsome. I realize that he’s every bit as beautiful in his human form as he was in horse form.

He tucks the strand of hair that’s falling forward across my eyes behind my ear, and he smiles. “What things of mine would you want to look at?”

“I—that’s not what I meant.”

He drops his hand. “No?”

“I just. . .as I was showering, I realized you seem to know almost everything about my life. Tim, the breakup, my horses, my family, and now you’ve seen my apartment.” I poke a finger at him. “But I know nothing about you.”

“I’m the czar of Russia. My life’s plastered all over the television.” He cocks his head sideways. “I’ve been in your country for weeks, and cameras follow me everywhere.”

“But—that’s not?—”

He lowers his head so our eyes are almost on level. “Are you saying you want to knowthe realme?”

How does he keep making me so nervous and jumpy? “No. I’m saying I want to know what you were doing at Birch Creek Ranch. Why were you stuck in your horse form at my mom’s house?” I nod, proud that I finally got it all out. “What’s really going on?” I narrow my eyes in a way that I hope is intimidating.

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