Sahar shrugged.
“As it is Aleksandr who cannot take his eyesoff of you or you him.”
Sahar opened her mouth to deny it, but thensaid nothing.
“As it was Aleksandr who kissed you and whoyou kissed back, apparently.”
Sahar flushed from head to toes.
“You like him,” her mother said.“Don’tyou?”
Sahar bristled.“He is a strutting stallionwho thinks women are nothing but broodmares.Who flirts withanything and everything female, from kitchen maids to kittens.Heis so cocksure of himself that he kisses me as offhandedly as hepunches any man he thinks has insulted me.He thinks I need hisprotection when I have told him repeatedly that I neither want norneed it.He proposed marriage to me.He calls me his…”
Her mother quirked a finely arched brow.
“Never mind what he calls me,” Saharsaid.
“I shall,” her mother said.“Same as I willnot ask you more of this kiss.Though I will ask, he proposedmarriage?”
“He did, the first time we met, before heeven knew I was a princess.”Sahar chuffed.“I meant what I said,what I have been saying for years now.I am fine as I am.I do notneed or want a husband.Even if I did, it would not be the likes ofhim.We cannot speak without arguing.We would kill each otherwithin a moon’s passing.”
Her mother smiled, as if Sahar’s words wereamusing.
“You and Father never fight,” Sahar said.“You have the perfect marriage.How can you ever understand?”
Her mother laughed.“Oh, my darlingdaughter.”She wrapped an arm around Sahar’s shoulder and huggedher close.“Your father and I fight plenty.But we make sure tofight fairly, and never in front of others.That is more because weare king and queen, not Asad and Oona.”She kissed Sahar’s cheek.“However, you are correct.You have family and wealth enough thatyou do not need a husband, so promise me, my daughter, if and whenyou do choose one, choose him because you love him and he lovesyou, for that is where a marriage like mine and your father’sbegins.What you do with that love is up to you.You can treasureit and nurture it and help it grow strong and true, or you canneglect it and watch it grow unkempt and thorny as a weed patch, orit can die out altogether.”
CHAPTER 6
Betrayals
Sahar led Lasair to the large, grassy paddockwhere she discovered that Aleksandr had already let Zolotoy looseto graze and laze the afternoon away.It was the day after thesecond race, a day of rest for horses and riders alike, the dayafter her talk with her mother and the sleepless night that hadfollowed.
The stallion pricked his ears forward atsight of Lasair, and Aleksandr waved them in.Sahar untied the leadrope from Lasair’s bridle and smiled as the mare kicked up herheels and trotted over to Zolotoy.Sahar followed at a slower, moredeliberate pace, stopping altogether as she realized that Aleksandrwas bare-chested.
She swallowed hard, and resumed her pace, hercheeks flaming.
“Good afternoon,” he said, grinning thatcursed cocksure grin of his.
She’d seen plenty of bare-chested men.She’dgrown up in a palace full of family and servants, and every summerthe city and the outlying fields were full of men working withouttheir tunics under the heat of the sun.But this was autumn and shehad never seen a man like Aleksandr before.His tawny chest seemedtwice as broad and his arms even more thickly corded without thethin veneer of clothing.Then there were the ridges of musclespanning across his abdomen and narrowing down to his waist belt,which held up a pair of leather riding breeches that hugged thesolid length of his thighs.But it was the patch of curly,gold-brown hair in the middle of his chest she couldn’t stopstaring at.
She watched, mesmerized, as a slight breezeruffled the hairs, and his nipples, a darker shade of brown, grewtight and taut.
Aleksandr chuckled and lightly scratched thegolden patch.“Grass does not grow so well on rock,” he said.
Sahar snapped her gaze up from his chest tohis laughing eyes, which she had the sudden urge to scratch, andnot lightly.
“Is there something in particular you came tosay to me?”
“No,” she answered, and then recanted.“Well,yes.”How did he do that?How did he manage to read her so well?Most people seemed to find her mysterious and incomprehensible.“I,ah, I wanted to thank you for defending me against yourhalf-sister’s accusations last night, and for acknowledging me andmaking a place for me in the line of riders the night of Autumn’sEve.”
He said nothing at first, and looked at herwith a quizzical half smile.“That was hard for you, wasn’tit?”
“You have no idea.”
Aleksandr laughed, his laugh deep and rich.“Is it thanking me that’s so hard,” he asked, “or is it thankinganybody?”
She laughed a little despite herself.“Both,”she admitted.“I don’t like asking for help, or so I have beentold.”
