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My watch? Maybe he’s saying he’ll do it later if I tell him no right now. I glance up and down the aisle to see whether anyone is there. Then I notice the CCTV at the end of the row. I point. “That’s a recorded image.”
He huffs.
No matter what I tell him, I can’t actually stop him.
He bumps my watch again. Then he opens his mouth and mimics chewing even though there’s nothing in it.
“You’re worried about Gavriil because he went to get food and he’ll be back soon?”
He nods again.
For the love. “You’re supposed to rest in your stall for the day,” I say. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
He starts pawing the floor and slamming the edge of the stall with his shoulder.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” I say. “Stop that.”
He snorts.
I keep forgetting that he can heal—the guys said he’s the only one among them who can heal himself thanks to his water power. How fabulous. “Great. Then you can throw as many tantrums as you want. I don’t care.”
He rolls his eye. Another thing I’ve never seen from a horse. Gavriil has already noticed he’s not normal. If he keeps acting like this with him around. . .
I finally throw the halter on Quicksilver and grab the bag I brought that’s loaded with clothes for him in case of emergency. “Fine. Let’s go for a walk.”
The looks from the grooms are not great. And Lukas acts like he’s going to punch me, but finally I get past them all. It takes nearly thirty minutes of walking to get to a place that’s not full of people, and I’m sweating by the time we reach the edge of the property. We circle around the back of the storage building, and we’re finally alone, assuming there’s no one in any of the cars parked around the corner.
I chuck his bag on the ground. “There. Change, you diva.”
He doesn’t wait for me to take off the halter or look away—he’s too impatient after all that. I can’t help laughing at him choking as he unbuckles the halter. But then I really look, and I regret not looking away right off.
Because now I can’t stop staring.
Holy sloughing ergots, he’s absolutely gorgeous. The David would be jade green if he were here, staring at the beauty that is Alexei Romanov, but he’d also get an earful.
Because my Grecian god is really, really angry.
“What were you thinking, not telling us more about that man? He’s an arms dealer?” He’s shoving his legs into his pants so fast that I worry something important will get caught. “I should’ve let Grigoriy kill him.”
“In one week, when we win that race, I’ll never see him again.”
“Think again,” Alexei says. “Men like that never let go of something they desire.”
I laugh. “He doesn’t even like me.”
He shakes his head. “He’s sick, Adriana, and now he does want you. He’s always wanted everything that other men wanted, and now that’s become you.”
“Hardly,” I say. “We have a deal—”
“Deals mean nothing to men without honor.” He shoves his hands into the sleeves of the shirt, but he doesn’t bother doing the buttons. He starts toward me, his face stormy. “I didn’t want to press, but you should’ve told me about your deal before.”
When he comes after me like that, I can’t help it. I back up.
His eyes flash. “How am I supposed to keep you safe when I don’t know what danger you’re in?”
My back hits the metal wall of the warehouse, but it doesn’t matter. I’m done retreating. “You’re not supposed to keep me safe.” I fold my arms and glare.
Alexei’s aristocratic nose rises, and he slams one hand against the wall, busting his knuckles open. He doesn’t even seem to notice the blood dripping down them and dropping on the ground. “Yes, I am.”
