Page 41 of My Dark Horse Prince

I jab his chest with my finger. “Of course not. Stop bossing me around, stop grabbing my arm, and stop telling me what to do.”

His hand closes around my wrist. “I’m trying to help you.” He practically roars. “But you’re impossible.”

I shake my arm free. “That’s because I don’t want your help.”

His voice drops until it’s low, deep, and confident. “You didn’t say that last night.”

I can’t help laughing. I mean, he’s right. I was grateful for his help last night, but if anyone else heard, they would grossly misunderstand. I look behind us, because I just know Kris is laughing too.

But she’s gone.

That jerk abandoned me while I was distracted. “They left?”

Grigoriy’s smiling.

I slap his arm. Then I hit him again. And again, harder.

Now he’s laughing. I’m abusing him, and he finds it humorous?

“Stop that,” I say.

“You can hit me all day long,” he says. “It’s never going to hurt.”

“Oh my gosh,” I say. “What are you, ten years old?”

His face falls. “Oh, no.” He sighs. “I think I’m more like a hundred and twenty-five. No, wait. I’m a hundred and thirty-two.” He looks stricken.

I’m laughing again, and this time I can’t stop.

“Why is that so funny?” He actually looks distraught. “You think being ancient’s a joke?”

I shrug. “You look thirty, maybe.”

“Well, I’m not. I was born in eighteen ninety-one.” He groans. “This is horrible.”

“It’s not like the identification Aleks gets you will say that. And you were frozen or something.” I poke the back of his hand where the skin looks perfectly smooth. Distractingly smooth. I shake my head. “You don’t appear to have aged.”

“Maybe all the years will show up at once.” He blinks. “Between one day and the next, I’ll age into a liver-spotted great grandfather.”

I’m laughing again.

“You don’t want to marry me because I’m ancient.” He arches one eyebrow. “Admit it.”

“I’m not marrying anyone,” I say. “I already told you that.”

“You sure did,” he says.

“You don’t listen very well.”

He shrugs. “Neither do you.”

Grigoriy has me there. “We should both get some sleep.” I grab my crutches from where they’re leaning against the sofa and head for the hall.

“Where do you want to sleep?”

I stop abruptly and pivot as quickly as I can on crutches. I shake my head slowly. “Why are you acting like where I sleep has anything to do with where you sleep?”

He frowns. “How can I keep you safe if you’re sleeping somewhere else?”

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