Page 52 of My Dark Horse Prince

I drag in a breath that’s so ragged, it should be thrown in the rubbish bin. “That.” I swallow.

“Yes.” His smile isn’t halfway now. It’s full-fledged, it’s cocky, and it’s very, very intense. “That.”

Somehow, with that one word, I surrendered. There’s no way he will believe me if I say I felt nothing. “Fine.”

“You want me, too.”

“I want you,” I say. “But there are plenty of things I want that aren’t good for me. I’ll add you to the list.”

He moves so fast, he should have a lightning power, sliding his arms under my knees and behind my back, and snagging my crutches as he does it. He carries me toward the car boldly, unashamed. “You’re mine. You know it, even if you won’t admit it yet. But that’s okay. I’m patient. I’ll wait.”

Faced with a force of nature like Grigoriy, I don’t even bother trying to argue. I just lean against his chest and close my eyes.

10

“I guess you got that turbine issue worked out,” Kris says. She’s trying not to smile, but she’s terrible at it.

“We did,” Grigoriy says, placing me gently in the seat. He tosses my crutches over the back. “Let’s head back.”

When he closes the door, I realize just how much background noise I’d become accustomed to out there. It’s so quiet in here that there’s absolutely nothing to distract from the heavy, almost oppressively awkward, silence.

“You know, I’ve been thinking.” Kris pointedly turns around and faces forward. “With Aleks to help the process of mending your bones along, and Grigoriy who can repair any recent injuries. . .”

“What?”

“If this surgeon does what he says, maybe. . .”

“Maybe what?” If I’m a little snappish, well. Grigoriy apparently finds it funny.

“Maybe you could ride again.”

I roll my eyes. “Let’s not get carried away. No one’s handing out invites to Hogwarts or magical wands.”

“What’s Hogwarts?” Aleksandr asks.

“He hasn’t seen Harry Potter yet.” I shake my head. “Tragic, and yet, I’m somehow also jealous.”

“But, kind of they are handing out wands,” Kris says, totally ignoring both me and her fiancé. “We have two mages. They can shift into horses, and that makes me even more positive. I saw you riding him yesterday. Remember?”

“I thought I was dead anyway,” I say. “And I was in the middle of nowhere in a strange place, and a horse kept insisting that I ride him.”

“What about now?” she asks. “You’d be able to ride a horse who won’t spook, who knows you’re injured, and who will be very careful with you. Right?”

“I could still slip,” I say.

“And if you did, it would be a recent injury, and he could heal you. What else you got?”

I sigh. “Let’s see how the surgery goes,” I say. “Then we can talk.”

“And we will talk,” Kris says.

She’s like a border collie stuck inside while a barn cat paces along the windowsill—she just can’t let things go.

We don’t have far to drive. We are, after all, already on Grigoriy’s property, but we’ve gone less than a half mile when he reaches out and takes my hand, his fingers slowly sliding between mine.

I inhale, but I don’t stop him.

Why don’t I stop him?

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