Page 28 of My Dark Horse Prince

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” But her lips are compressed a little too hard, and they’re twitching. “I mean, why would I try to set my best friend up with the ripped—”

“You should not have been looking at him,” I say.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Kris says. “For someone she doesn’t care about.”

I roll my eyes. “I meant, because your fiancé was right there.”

“I may not be shopping for a pie, but I can ogle the bakery window as much as I’d like.”

Even when my day has sucked royally, Kris always makes me laugh. “Well, ogle elsewhere. That pie is—” I snap my mouth shut. I almost said mine. What’s wrong with me? It must be that I was tossed out a window. Or that I literally rode him this morning. I’ve always been a little possessive with my horses. Maybe that’s it. It’s confusing me that he’s a horse and a man. I shake my head.

“Yes?” Kris is smirking. “That pie is. . .what exactly?” She arches one eyebrow in an infuriating way.

I clear my throat. “You can’t eat it. That’s what I was going to say. It’s inedible.”

She laughs again, this time high and long. “Sure.” She walks toward the door, grabbing my beautiful leather jacket and hanging it over her arm on the way. “I think we should all go shopping. We can get you more than the one outfit, and you can get a watch and new shoes—whatever you need.”

Again, I’m overwhelmed by her generosity and thoughtfulness.

“And Grigoriy will need all those things as well. After all, he’s been cursed for a hundred years and stuck in some kind of hibernation or something.”

“That’s so long. Since, what? The Russian Revolution?”

Kris nods slowly. “Yeah, I had to teach Aleks most everything. He’s wicked smart, so he picked it up fast. Let’s hope his hot friend’s not a dope.” She yanks the door open. “He looked delicious, but he sounded a little caveman to me.”

“Who looked delicious?” Aleksandr’s just down the hall, his face marvelously scowly.

“You deserve that.” I can’t help giggling.

“My fiancé, of course,” she says.

“I’m not a caveman,” he says. “I bought you tampons.”

“What are tampons?” Grigoriy asks, almost stumbling over the word.

Aleksandr laughs.

“Nope,” I say. “Not a good discussion to have right now.” I can feel my cheeks heating up. Aleksandr may have been stuck in some kind of cursed sleep for a hundred years, but he’s pretty modernized if he’s using tampon purchasing as an example of how he’s not a caveman.

Getting cultural references and defending himself with proper behavior gets high marks from me. I’d never have thought he was a horse shifter. . . Even that simple thought makes me laugh out loud. Who would have thought anyone was an ancient, cursed mage who was actually a horse shifter?

I may be going crazy.

Kris pats my arm. “I know. I struggled with it, too.”

“So are we going shopping? I’ve been trying to catch Grigoriy up on world changes, but there are too many. I think seeing some things will help.”

The idea of shopping with the two men makes me acutely uncomfortable. And it’s not only because of the way Grigoriy’s looking at me, all intense and smoldery. “Hey, what are we going to do about the car?” I ask. “There’s no way we can all fit in yours. Maybe it’s a better idea if Kris and I go first.”

Aleks’s brow furrows. “I think—”

“Or you can go first,” I say. “I don’t mind waiting. Actually, this outfit is totally fine. We can wash the one I had and mend the shoulders and—”

“Your friend never stops talking,” Aleks says.

“Only when she’s nervous.” Kris lifts her eyebrows at me.

I splutter. “I’m—I’m not nervous.”

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