Page 30 of My Dark Horse Prince

My voice is raw when I beg. “Please. Promise me.”

“Mirdza?” Kris and Aleks have reached the doorway into a large garage. “Is everything okay?” Kris asks. “Because you’ve had a bad enough day. No one better make it worse.” She glares spectacularly at Grigoriy, not that he even notices.

“Let’s go,” I say. I can always push the promise out of him later.

I’m utterly unprepared when I walk through the wide doorway. “What. . .how many cars did you think he’d need?” The garage has at least ten spaces. There’s a sports car—Aleks’s car. Someone must have pulled it around. And a shiny, black Range Rover. I’ve never even seen one up close. They aren’t common in Latvia.

“Aleks has developed quite the taste for nice cars,” Kris says. “When they asked us how large we should make the renovated garage, he didn’t want to have limited space.” She laughs. “He’s adjusted to modern times fairly well, don’t you think?”

“One car?” Grigoriy asks. “You only thought I’d want one car?”

I cannot believe he’s hassling his friend who restored his home and bought him a ridiculously expensive import. What kind of friends were they?

Aleks smiles. “I didn’t want to deprive you of the opportunity of buying them yourself.”

“But you said I’m broke.” Instead of looking worried, Grigoriy looks irritated. “You said I won’t even be able to pay the taxes on this estate you bought back from the stupid government for me.”

Kris slugs Aleks on the shoulder. “You’re mean.”

“It’s always better to know the truth than to be unprepared,” I say. I should know. As the poor friend, I’ve learned this the hard way.

Aleks rolls his eyes. “Not for long, though. I already told you I bought all those wind turbines when the government offered those subsidies.”

“You bought them.” Grigoriy sounds downright grumpy.

“I had them installed on your land, you idiot. You should just be thanking me.”

“I actually got mad at him,” Kris says. “It seemed like a huge waste of money. They’re generating nothing at all right now.”

“Not nothing.” Aleks laughs. “But not what they’ll produce once we make a little trip out there.”

Grigoriy jogs down the steps toward the Range Rover effortlessly, not even thinking about it. Then he turns back to see me, awkwardly navigating them as best I can.

Stairs suck.

“Here.” He jogs back up before I can stop him. He slides his arms behind my back and my knees and picks me up like he thinks I’m Kris’s size, my crutches dangling at strange angles.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think.”

We’re past the stairs before I can even protest, but instead of putting me down, he keeps right on walking toward the car.

I must have been a real nuisance, slowing everyone down as I did, or he’d have put me down again. My cheeks heat. I hate being a burden or a nuisance, but it’s even worse that he’s carrying me like I’m a child.

“Put me down,” I hiss.

He grins at me wickedly. “Make me.”

My right hand slips, and one of my crutches clatters to the ground. Kris had her hand on the passenger door, but she spins around, her mouth gaping, her eyes widening. “Grigoriy. Put her down this instant.”

His head whips toward her. “Why?”

“She’s not a child or a dog or a toy. You don’t carry people unless they ask.”

His brow furrows, and then slowly, he lowers me to the ground. “I’m sorry.” His words are gruff, but they seem sincere.

“It’s fine.” Embarrassing, but fine. At least I’m used to being humiliated.

This time, his words are soft. I doubt Kris or Aleks can even hear him. “I liked holding you, and I just didn’t want to let go. I didn’t think about that being rude.”

---