Page 70 of My Queendom for a Horse

For the love of all that’s—I’m going to kill him. Or maybe I’ll just let him fall and break his neck, and then it’s not my fault. “You are not coming inside my room.” I fold my arms. “Go back to the barn.”

“You forgot to give me a laptop,” he says. “I have stuff to do.”

I think about closing my curtains.

But knowing him, he’ll just crash through the window and ruin everything.

I snatch my iPad off my desk and stomp to the window. Then I slide the glass open an inch and a half and poke the end of my iPad outside.

“Are you serious?” He scowls. “What if I drop it when I’m falling to my death?”

“You’ll have a split second to pity me. I’ll have gotten rid of a real nuisance, but I’ll be out one very expensive piece of technology.”

Aleks’ mouth turns upward on the right side. “A nuisance?” I hate how confident he is. A normal guy would be a mass of insecurities. “You did seem bothered earlier. Maybe there’s been a translation discrepancy.” Which is ridiculous. He’s as fluent as I am.

I try not to think about all the ways in which we’re bizarrely connected. It just makes me feel bad for sending him away so severely, but I really can’t afford to let him in my bedroom. He’s practically irresistible in a dirty, run-down, spider-infested barn. What on earth would happen if he came in my warm, cozy, clean bedroom right now?

My panties would set on fire. That’s what.

“You have to go.” I wiggle the iPad a bit. “You have five seconds before I rescind my offer. “Five. Four.”

He reaches for the iPad, but then at the last second, his hand shifts and shoves the window open. Before I can even object, he’s hopping through the opening and into my room, along with a blast of frosty winter air.

“Thanks.” He hasn’t even touched the iPad, which is now dangling from my fingers.

“Did you lie?” I ask. “Did you even come here because you couldn’t get online?”

He grabs the iPad and tosses it back on my desk. “You know why I came here.” He steps toward me, his eyes scanning my face.

“No.” I shake my head, and this time, I’m not going to back up like a rabbit fleeing a fox. “No, we are not doing that again.”

“That?” His smile widens. “Why not? That was one of the best things I’ve ever done. And I have a lot of ideas for ways to improve that I can only practice with your help.”

“NO,” I say as emphatically as I can manage. I pull out my I’m-an-unhappy-horse-trainer voice and really put some energy behind it. “Aleks, you have to go.”

“Say that again,” he practically purrs.

“No,” I say.

He laughs. “Not ‘no.’ Say my name again.”

I choke. “The door is there.” I duck sideways and point.

He ignores me, forcing me to do what I swore I wouldn’t.

I back up. And he stalks me again, kicking my heart into high gear. After just a few steps, my butt hits the top of my nightstand—it really sucks to be so small sometimes—and there’s nowhere else to go. “You’re a Neanderthal,” I say.

He blinks. “I’m not sure what that is. Is it good or bad?”

“I don’t want you here,” I say.

“Your cheeks are flushed. Your pupils are dilated. Your breathing is heavy.” His eyes drop to my lips. “My research tells me that means you are interested.”

“Or scared,” I say. “It’s a fear response.”

He laughs again, and this time, something pools deep inside of me at the sound.

“Stop,” I say. “Get out.”

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