Page 73 of My Trojan Horse Majesty

“Here, boss.” Boris tosses a bag at him.

Leonid’s movements are always so graceful. He catches the bag, nods at me, and turns to dress.

I shouldn’t, but I can’t help watching him.

I look away the second he turns around, but his chuckling follows me the last two dozen steps to the car. I’m not sure how he knew I was watching, but he’s onto me.

“Are you ready to meet the governor?” I have no idea how Boris keeps a straight face.

“Of course,” Leonid says.

“Will the girl be coming?” Boris side-eyes me.

“The ‘girl’ will always be coming, but you won’t go anywhere else if you ever call her ‘the girl’ again,” Leonid says. “Isabel Brooks, or maybe later, Isabel Iv?—”

I cover his mouth with my hand, and he licks me.

Helicksmy palm.

And then he winks. “Fine, you can keep your name.”

I swear, he’s cracked.

What does it say about me, thatthisis my soul match? Even thinking that sends a sort of a shiver up my spine. “I—I don’t hate it either,” I whisper. “Maybe she was right about the soul thing.”

Leonid’s smiling when we reach the other members of his staff. They’re all gathered near two dark SUVs, and they’re all wearing suits. I glance down at my blue sweater and dark jeans. “I’m going to wait in the car,” I say. “I’m definitely not dressed for a meeting with the governor.”

Leonid rolls his eyes. “You’re just fine. You’re the czar of Russia’s date.”

Date.

I’m his date. . .and his soul match. It’s a really weird thing to say out loud, but for some reason, I don’t hate it.

I mean, with Tim, everyone hated him. I tried not to care, but it made me question my judgment. And then, it turns out I was wrong. He was bad. . .for me, and also, just in general. But in this case, my judgment doesn’t matter, right? I mean, one of the four witches of the world who provide strength to all living things said we’re a match.

He’s too good-looking for me, he’s too rich for me, he’s too well-educated for me, and he’s definitely too powerful for me, but I’m hissoulmatch, so it’s fine.

I’m actually surprised that when we reach the Utah State Capitol building, no one questions what I’m wearing. I’m standing in a sea of suits, wearing jeans and a sweater, and no one bats an eye. They do clip a microphone to my lapel, and the makeup lady keeps brushing things on my face last minute, but when the recording starts rolling, everyone’s smiling, including Leonid.

“You’ve been here, in the United States, now for several weeks,” the governor says. “And in every formal, official interview, visit, or chat, you’ve been alone.” He smiles. “And yet, here today, you’re sitting next to a very pretty blonde woman.”

Leonid reaches out and takes my hand.

The governor’s smile broadens. “Tell me, who is this?”

My horse-shifter soul match presses a kiss to my hand. “This is my girlfriend, Isabel Brooks. I’m head over heels, and I’m not embarrassed to say that.”

The governor and his wife both clap. His wife, Betty, squeals. “This is so exciting.”

“And how did the two of you meet?” Governor Kuykendall asks.

“It was accidental.” Leonid leans forward and drops his voice. “But if we’re being totally honest, I think we could call it fate. I was in a bit of a bind, and this lady totally saved me.” He’s looking right at me, his brilliantly green eyes shining.

“The two of you are quite the pair,” Betty says. “Do you think you’ll be spending more time in Utah now, thanks to her?”

Leonid shrugs. “I have a lot of work to do in Russia, and I’ve probably stayed here too long already, but I will just say that even though I haven’t known Isabel for very long, I can’t imagine not having her by my side.” He winks, and I know it’s a joke about how he passes out if I’m not near, but it also feels like he means it.

“Can we expect a visit to Tiffany’s?” Betty asks. “Or is it still too soon?”

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