He sat back on his heels and slowly shook hishead.“I only ever accused him of choosing the queen over me, hisown flesh and blood.”
“What did he say?”
“That he hoped I would understandsomeday.”
Sahar turned to face him.“I don’t mean todefend him,” she said.“I can only imagine how you must have felt,a young boy seemingly abandoned by his father—”
“Seemingly?”
“Have you ever considered that it was his wayof protecting you?”
“He was and is the king,” Aleksi said,sounding as petulant as the boy of ten and two he had been when hisfather had exiled him to the stables.“From whom would the kingneed to protect his son?”
“The queen, or his second wife, mother to hislegitimate son and heir to the throne.”
Aleksi was fairly certain she hadn’t said itto hurt him, but it hurt and he hated that it did.
“In some ways you should be grateful,” shesaid.“It’s made you the man you are.”
“And who is that?”
“An arrogant ass who despises royalprincesses.”
Aleksi chuckled.“Not all of them,” headmitted.“Not anymore.”
She laughed, light and quick.“If you werestill a prince, Aleksandr, you would already be married to somesoft, spoilt princess who would be pregnant with your fifthdaughter.”
“Ha.You have a mean streak.”
“It’s how I keep my claws sharpened.”Shearched her brows while flexing her fingers.
He grinned.“Glad to see you back, mytigress.”
“I’m not your tigress,” she chuffed.
“I’m not only an arrogant ass.”
“No,” she said, her expression serious.“You’re not.You’re also a man determined to make his own way inthe world.I respect that.”
CHAPTER 12
The Peak
Sahar lay shivering under the thin blanket onAleksi’s bedroll, missing the heat of his body while watching himmove about their camp as he checked his saddle bags and Zolotoy’sties for the tenth time.In between each check, he would look downat her and then turn away, grumbling under his breath as he sortedthrough his bag or retied Zolotoy’s reins to the bush yet again.Atlast, he lowered himself down with a resigned sigh and lay behindher, stiffening as she scooted her backside up against him.
She snuggled in closer, waiting to feel hisarm reach around and tuck her in to him, but he only stiffenedmore.It was his morning rejection all over again.She buried herface into her hands and stifled her threatening tears.
He sighed again, heavy, irritated, andstarted to slide his arm over her shoulder.She jabbed him in thebelly with her elbow.
“Oomph.”His breath hit her neck in a greatwhoosh.“What was that for?”
“I don’t wish to be forced into bodilycontact with you any more than you wish to be physically close tome,” she huffed.
“Then why do you keep wiggling like thatagainst me?”
“Like what?”
He bumped his pelvis against her buttocks,shooting liquid heat from her core to her chest.“Like that,” hesaid, his breath close and hot on her nape.
