Free Rejar by Dara Joy

made him think he was so adept on a dance floor?
    Lilac had no way of knowing just how fleet of foot a Familiar could be.
    When it became obvious the man was going to ignore her words, she counted to ten and tried again. “Prince Azov, I must insist—”
    “Call me Nickolai, souk-souk.” His low voice brushed her ear, sending vibratory tingles down the side of her neck.
    Who asked him to send tingles down her neck? She didn’t want them! “I will not! Who do you think—souk-souk? What is that, Russian?”
    Rejar gazed intently down at her. “Do you speak Russian?”
    She shook her head. “No.”
    “Then for your purposes, it is Russian.”
    What did the Prince mean by that remark? Lilac gave him a strange look. “Well, what does it mean?”
    “Where I come from, a souk-souk is a soft, little animal which nips at your heels at the same time it desires your attention.”
    Her eyes flashed emerald fire at him.
    He laughed—a low, sexy sound of enjoyment.
    Never missing a beat, he turned her in his arms. “It is quite affectionate when stroked a certain way,” he murmured teasingly in her ear.
    She ground her heel into the toe of his boot.
    He smiled. “And quite venomous when it isn’t,” was the whispered response.
    Lilac tried to break his tight hold. The man was infuriatingly playful. “Your Highness!”
    “Nickolai.”
    “Very well,” she snapped, “Nickolai. I must insist you release me at—oh!” His hot hand had dropped to her waist, singeing right through the thin fabric of her dress. Whatever she had been about to say flew from her mind when the large, masculine hand brought her possessively closer to him.
    Lilac blinked, not at all sure how to respond to his blatant behavior. The Prince did not react in the expected manner at all. He was extremely unpredictable.
    Prince Azov’s expert move did not go unnoticed by the avid onlookers. Speculative murmurs were followed by a frenzied round of wagering. The topic of said wagering was not a fit subject for mixed company.
    “I will call upon you later, souk-souk.”
    Lilac stumbled again.
    Did this insufferable cad actually think she would allow him to court her? “Absolutely not!”
    His left hand brushed her waist; a hint of a caress. Small frissons trailed down her spine. “Mmm, souk-souk, I agree; it is a waste of time. Your societal customs are exceedingly tedious. I will come to your bedchamber tonight.”
    Lilac stopped right in the middle of the dance floor.
    She stood there in utter stupor, staring in horrified shock at the crude lout. The man was a barbarian!
    A sharp crack snapped the air with the slap she delivered to his arrogant face.
    While leaving the dance floor, she almost laughed aloud at the dumbfounded expression on the Prince’s handsome face just after her open palm had connected smartly with his cheek. Lilac patted herself on the back. By his look, she’d wager the man had never been turned down in his life! Well, it was about time someone did.
    Insufferable arrogance!
    Whatever made the sapskull think she would welcome his attentions? Her of all people! His stunning looks? As if that would make a difference to her! She had no use for a man in her life, and she definitely didn’t want one in her home. Men had a most nasty habit of making demands.
    Lilac had no doubts whatsoever that she had seen the last of the arrogant, albeit beautiful. Prince. The thought brought immense pleasure. It could have been a close call; Auntie had raised her eyebrows—a sure sign of trouble.
    Good-bye, your Highness, and good riddance!
    * * *
    Rejar watched Lilac storm off the dance floor and out of the room with a speculative gleam in his narrowed eyes. What was wrong with the woman? The thought that she might not be interested in him never entered the Familiar’s mind.
    After all, women always wanted him.
    It was not vanity on his part, but a fact of his life. And Rejar knew by his senses that this one did too. So why had she reacted to