Page 73 of My Dark Horse Prince

But I can.

I bolt through the front door as quickly as I can move on my recently healed leg. It’s not strong. I’m not agile or balanced, but I make it to the car, where Aleks and Kris are waiting, chatting happily in the front seat of the Range Rover.

Kris reacts immediately to the panic on my face. “What’s wrong? Where’s Grigoriy?”

I leap into the car. “Drive!” I shout. “Go, now.”

Bless him, but Aleks doesn’t insist I answer any questions. He just leaves.

13

Ten years ago

Mom’s wearing a turtleneck again. I promised to leave her alone. I told her I’d stop arguing about him, but I can’t help it. I can’t just bite my tongue anymore.

“I talked to Kris,” I say.

“That’s good, since you’re living at her place.”

“I’m not in her house,” I say. “I’m in one of the two-bedroom apartments. It has a really cute little kitchen they just remodeled. It’s on the back side of the barn. The one with its own parking spots.”

“I don’t like you living in the main barn. I’m sure lots of the grooms are thinking inappropriate thoughts about you,” Mom says.

It’s like he’s talking to me through her, like Mom’s become his puppet. “I’m sure that none of them are, but who cares if they are? They’re polite, and I have privacy, and I love it there. They can think whatever they want, as long as they don’t act on it. And since I’m starting a lesson program at her barn, my rent is zero.”

“I’m happy for you.” But her tone doesn’t match her words. She doesn’t sound happy at all.

“Did you hear the part where there are two bedrooms?” I ask. “Because there are. You can have one.”

“Have one what?” Martinš stomps through the doorway from the bedroom, and I startle.

“Oh.” I swallow. “I thought you were at work.”

“I’m sick,” he says. “I stayed home.”

I grab my purse, my hand trembling. “I hope my voice didn’t wake you. Sorry if I was too loud.” I absolutely loathe how I turn into a slinking dog around him, but I can’t seem to do anything about it. Even my voice shakes when he’s near.

Mom’s not much better, but now I understand why she wouldn’t even entertain the idea of moving in with me. Her lousy husband was in the next room. Why didn’t she send me some kind of message? Or warn me when I first came through the door by mentioning that he’s here?

Martinš looks casual as he walks toward me, but nothing is ever casual with him. Or even if it is, you can’t enjoy it, because you’re always waiting for the moment it all changes. “You have a two-bedroom place, huh?”

I nod tightly.

“Why?”

I shrug.

“I asked why.” His voice is deceptively calm, but I can tell from his narrowed eyes and his clenched hands that he’s angry. He heard more than he’s admitting to hearing.

“It’s the apartment Kristiana had available,” I say.

“I said not to say her name in this house,” he says.

It’s not a house. Mom and Martinš live in a lousy little apartment, but I don’t point that out. I may have been unprepared to deal with him—I dropped by specifically because I thought he’d be gone—but I’m not stupid enough to intentionally provoke him. “Sorry.”

“You should move back here,” he says. “You don’t even have to run a lesson program here, and you won’t have to pay rent.” He eyes me from my head to my toes, and even though he’s never done anything sexual, it still feels appraising in a way that doesn’t sit well with me.

“I’ll think about it,” I lie.

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