Page 109 of My Queendom for a Horse

“Well, I’m sorry you flew all the way here, but I’m just fine, and I really don’t need any help.”

“I’m glad you’re fine.” He glances around the room, and then casually, almost too casually, says, “I don’t see Sean here lending a hand.”

“So there are some things you couldn’t find the answers to on the internet.” I can’t help my self-satisfied grin.

A muscle in his jaw pulses in a very satisfying way. “Is he here as your boyfriend? I mean, I assume he is, somewhere.”

I look down at my feet. “Not as my boyfriend.”

“So you’re getting married?” Something about his choked tone has my eyes shooting upward. And for the first time, his confidence looks shaken.

“No,” I say.

“You already are married?” Now he looks stricken.

“We broke up,” I whisper.

“You. . .”

And then he’s crashing into me, his arms wrapping around my waist and crushing me to him. Once our bodies are in contact from our knees all the way upward, one hand lifts my chin, and his mouth claims mine.

He’s not a gentle, considerate kisser.

Aleksandr Volkonsky only knows one way to act: he possesses, takes, and conquers.

And it’s glorious. Kissing him, being claimed by him, is every single thing I remembered. His body’s so large, so strong, and so unyielding that I melt against him. He pulls back for a moment, and then another, simply breathing next to me. Staring at my face.

Until I whimper.

And he practically snarls. “Not being near you has been torture.” His voice is ragged. “Even when I played my last card, nothing.”

“Your last. . .” Realization dawns. “Do you mean the land?”

“The land that you were desperate to save.” He exhales, his breath warming my entire body and heating me up in places I didn’t realize I had gone cold. “The land you didn’t want someone else to give you.”

“Because I wanted you to give it to me,” I whisper.

And he kisses me again, even more passionately than before. His hands drag upward, from my lower back to my shoulders, bringing me closer, closer, and impossibly closer still, until I can’t tell where he stops and I begin.

Somehow, it’s still not close enough.

It might never be enough.

“The worst thing about leaving,” he breathes against my ear, “was knowing that he was right here with you. By your side. But I knew I couldn’t win you by simply taking what I wanted. No, like breaking a horse—you had to come to me.”

And my drunk call? That’s what he was waiting for? “I should’ve gotten hammered long before last night.”

“Oh, yes,” he says. “You should have.”

“I’m glad you flew all night,” I say. “I’ve missed you for a very long time. Since the day you left.”

“But you sent me away.” He blinks, his grip on my shoulders loosening. “You made me go.”

“Because you didn’t really want me,” I say. “As soon as you didn’t need me to let you use your magic, you stopped fighting about taking me with you.”

His eyebrows draw together, making a tiny number eleven above his nose. “No, that’s not it.”

“Why did you leave, then?”

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