Free Princess in Disguise by Karen Hawkins Page B

soothing crackle of the fire in the background.
    He hated to move, and yet he must. Sighing, he lifted up on one elbow and reached
     down for his shirt. He found it after some searching and used it to clean them both.
     Alexandra smiled sleepily, and then turned so that he spooned her.
    He tugged her closer, resting his cheek on the silk of her hair, watching the red-gold
     light from the fire play across her body. Trailing his fingers along the delicate
     line of her collarbone, he said, “You, my sweet, should never be allowed to wear clothes.”
    She turned to give him a sleepy smile. “I would like to impose the same rule on you.”
    He brushed the hair from her face and kissed her cheek. “You are a very passionate
     woman.”
    “I enjoy”—she moved against him—“this.”
    He put a hand on her hip. “Unless you wish for another round, I suggest you refrain
     from ‘that.’ ”
    Her husky chuckle made him grin.
    “I knew we would do well together.” She traced her fingers over his arm and followed
     the muscles of his forearm. “That’s very rare, you know.”
    “Hmm.” He rubbed his chin over her shoulder, smiling as goose bumps rose on her skin.
    “Kintore?”
    He kissed her collarbone. “Yes?”
    “Have you ever wished to travel?”
    He stilled. After a long moment, he asked, “You mean to Oxenburg?”
    “Yes.” She turned over to face him, her full breasts now pressed to his chest. “I
     know you said you were not the sort to marry—”
    “Alexandra, don’t.”
    “But we would do so well together. Just see how we fit.”
    “Alexandra, no.”
    She slid her hands over his chest and pressed a kiss to his neck. “I’ll only be here
     for another few days, if that. And then I’m on to the rest of my journey. Don’t let
     us lose this.”
    He didn’t answer.
    “Please,” she whispered, kissing his chin, his lips, his cheeks. “Just try to—”
    He sighed and sat up, pulling free from her arms. “You won’t stop, will you?”
    She rolled to her back, her eyes shaded to silver, her body gleaming in the firelight.
     With her long, dark hair, there was something almost mystical about her. She placed
     her hand on his chest. “Do you really want me to stop?”
    Damn it, he didn’t know what he wanted—except more of her touch, more of her kisses,
     more of her . But not at the cost of making a mistake that they both would pay for over the years
     to come.
    And they would pay. For the last two years he’d been running from his past, staying
     drunk so he couldn’t feel. He’d been successful, too . . . until he’d met a blue-eyed
     princess with a mouth made for sin and a heart far larger than his would ever be.
     It wasn’t fair to weigh her down with his past. He simply couldn’t do it. For once
     in his selfish life, he would do what was best for someone else.
    She leaned up to capture him, tugging him closer as she twined her arms about his
     neck. “Don’t look so serious, pashinko . It’s too late at night, and you’re bruised from your fight and still feeling the
     effects of the vodka.” She kissed his cheek. “We will save that for tomorrow. For
     tonight . . .” She pulled him to her once again.
    He should have broken the embrace and left. But he was no match for the warm silk
     of her skin against his. With a sigh, he came to her and sank once again into her
     alluring embrace . . .

Chapter 7
    K intore awoke in his bedchamber to the sounds of women’s voices downstairs. He frowned, listening for a moment. He
     recognized the plaintive voice of Alexandra’s chaperone, before now only heard coming
     from the confines of her bedroom. They were answered by a soothing voice that he didn’t
     recognize. We have new guests? Behind that startling thought came another. The roads must be open.
    He turned to look out the window and then winced, instantly aware of his aching head . Oh yes—vodka, and then the fight with Doya.
    Fortunately, another instant