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I chuckle. “I’m sorry, but I think you’ve forgotten. Or maybe you’re a little more like Mr. Rimkus than you think. You want a princess, and I’m a gutter rat.”

Alexei leans down slowly. “You’re a glorious goddess, Adriana Strelkova, and the only one who doesn’t see that is you.” His lips are right in front of me, and I can’t see anything else. “I lied to you—told you what you wanted to hear so you’d stop hissing and arching your back every time I came close. From the moment I woke up, you’ve been the only woman I’ve even seen.”

The world narrows to one single point in space and time. “You—you lied?”

“I’m done lying now,” he says. “I’m done waiting for you to come to me. I’m done letting you drive me around like I’m actually a horse. I’m not a horse. I’m a man—your man. And I’m going to kill that disgusting pile of filth who keeps looking at you like he wants to degrade you.”

My hands reach up and grab both sides of his face and drag his mouth down to meet mine. The explosion when our mouths meet is unlike anything I ever imagined. He doesn’t kiss me—he claims me. He brands me. He consumes me.

And I don’t even want to stop him.

My hands slide upward, my fingers lacing through his hair. His hands grip my hips and lift, bringing me up hard against the back of the storage room wall, and then his body closes the space between us, pressing against me until there’s no space left.

He’s so hard and unyielding, so possessive and demanding, that I ought to hate it. But instead, like a cat arching against the exact right pressure, I purr. “Yes,” I murmur. “More.”

Thankfully, Alexei seems to know just what I want—what I need. I wrap my legs around him, my hands drifting down as his mouth explores the side of my neck. I’m moaning, when I hear it.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“At least it’s not the inside of that crappy old barn,” Kristiana says. “Though, the side of a warehouse might be worse.”

My eyes fly open. Mirdza, Kristiana, Grigoriy, and Aleksandr are all staring at us. Aleksandr’s laughing. Grigoriy’s beaming.

Kristiana looks irritated.

At least Mirdza’s properly horrified that I’m straddling Alexei in a fairly public place.

“How did you—why are you even here?” I drop to my feet, bracing my hand against Alexei’s firm chest.

“Your boyfriend Gavriil called,” Mirdza says. “He was frantic. He got back with food, and you were gone. He was convinced ‘that filthy Lithuanian’ had kidnapped you.”

“He’s making a police report now,” Kristiana says. “But a groom mentioned he’d seen you walking this way.”

“Also.” Aleksandr lifts both eyebrows, nods, and smirks.

“Nice work, man,” Grigoriy says. “It’s about time.”

23

“That’s when I got with Kris,” Aleks says. “Before a race.” He’s smirking, and I hate it.

“We aren’t together,” I say.

“That makes sense,” Mirdza says. “I usually try to eat men’s faces off when we aren’t dating.”

“Shut up,” I say.

“I’m confused,” Kristiana says. “What on earth is Gavriil doing here? And why does he think you’re his girlfriend?”

“He’s terminally stupid,” Alexei says. “That’s why. She turned him down.”

“I did tell him no,” I say. “But when Rimkus showed up, I might have acted like he was my boyfriend. It seemed simpler than trying to explain—”

“That you were dating your horse?” Alexei’s lip’s twitching, and something deep inside my stomach flutters.

What’s wrong with me?

“You all have horrible timing,” Alexei says. “Have I mentioned that?”