Free Princess in Disguise by Karen Hawkins

straight line.”
    He chuckled and allowed her to assist him, enjoying the scent of her hair.
    At the settee she helped him out of his overcoat, but when she started to remove his
     coat, he stopped her. “What are you doing?”
    “I need to see where you are injured.”
    A sly smile curled his lips. “Ah, I see. You’re trying to take off my clothes so you
     can ravish me.”
    “No, I’m not.”
    “You had only to say the word.” He took off his coat, wobbling as he did so.
    She took stock of his injuries as she helped him. They weren’t nearly as bad as she’d
     thought. His right eye was red, his cheek was scraped, and one ear was swelling, but
     that seemed to be it.
    He smiled into her eyes. “Doya is not so big when he is on the ground.”
    “You won?” She couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice.
    “He’s not as effective when he doesn’t have the element of surprise. This time, I
     got in the first hit. Bam! One, two, three hits, and I left your guard dead to the
     world.”
    At her alarmed look, he reached down and chucked her under the chin. “Not that kind
     of dead, love. Just wake-up-in-a-half-hour-with-a-headache kind of dead.”
    He called me ‘love.’ She smiled. “I can see that he managed to land a few hits, too.”
    “One. Maybe two.” He touched his ear and frowned. “Perhaps more. I can’t remember.”
    “Did he hit you in the stomach or chest?”
    He shrugged. “All I remember is that I won. Did I mention that?”
    She stifled a smile. “Yes, you did. I should see your stomach and chest to make certain
     you aren’t too badly injured.”
    “Yes, please do.” He bent so that his lips were even with her ear. “I think I might
     have sprained something . . . significant.”
    “Mm-hmm. You should sit before you fall.”
    “I’m not through getting undressed. I must remove all my clothing.”
    “No, no, no. Not all of it—”
    He was already unbuttoning his waistcoat, his fingers fumbling as he swayed.
    “Let me.” She pushed his hands away and unbuttoned his waistcoat, then helped him
     out of it. “Does anything hurt? Your stomach, your ribs, your—”
    “No. Three punches, Alexandra. One. Two. Three. And he was down.” He chuckled and
     caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “I’m not sure who was more surprised,”
     he confided, grinning like a little boy.
    Laughing, she gave him a gentle shove and he sprawled back on the settee cushions,
     his hair falling into his eyes.
    “You’ve mud on your boots. They must come off, too.”
    “Then off they come!” He bent and tugged them off, tossing them to one side with such
     bravado that she chuckled.
    Pleased, he reached out and pulled her into his lap. “I fought your giant, Princess.
     I fought him for you.” He lifted a finger and finally managed to land it gently on
     the tip of her nose, his voice warm and intimate. “All for you.”
    She captured his wrist. “You’re just as likely to poke my eye out as touch my nose.
     And stop acting as if you fought Doya for me; you didn’t.”
    He pretended to be hurt. “I did, too. I defended you.”
    “I don’t need to be defended from Doya.”
    Kintore captured her hand and pressed a warm kiss to her palm. “You don’t know what
     or who you need, Princess.” His voice deepened. “But I can promise you this—if I am
     breathing, I will always fight for you. Every. Damn. Time.”
    Each word vibrated with meaning. She shook her head. “What would you protect me fro—”
    He leaned in and kissed her with such passion that her thoughts exploded into shatters.
     His hands cupped her to him as he turned, tucking her against him.
    One moment she was in his lap and the next she was beneath him, her gown rucked up
     about her knees as he kissed her over and over, teasing and tempting.
    God, she’d missed the taste of heated kisses, the scruff of a man’s unshaven face
     against her skin, the feel of a man’s weight as he pressed between her