Dark Prince Read Online Free PDF Page B

in men's clothes?" he asked.
    She laughed, soft and melodious, and her eyes lit with mischief. "Because I knew it would annoy you."
    He threw back his head and laughed. Real, genuine, incredible laughter. There was happiness in him and the stirrings of affection. He couldn't remember what those feelings were like, but the emotions were sharp and clear and a sweet ache in his body.
    "Is it necessary to annoy me?"
    She arched an eyebrow at him, realizing that her headache was completely gone. "So easy," Raven teased.
    He leaned closer. "Disrespectful woman. So dangerous, you mean."
    "Mmm, maybe that, too." She slid her hand through her hair, pushed it away from her face. The action was an innocent habit, incredibly sexy, drawing his gaze to the perfection of her face, the fullness of her breasts, the smooth line of her throat.
    "So just how good a chess player are you?" she challenged impudently.
    An hour later Mikhail leaned back in his chair to watch her face as she studied the board. She was frowning in concentration, trying to puzzle out his unfamiliar strategy. She could sense that he was leading her into a trap, but she couldn't find it. Raven leaned her chin on the heel of her hand, relaxed, in no hurry. She was patient and thorough and twice had gotten him into trouble simply because he was too sure of himself.
    Suddenly her eyes widened, a slow smile curving her soft mouth. "You are a cunning devil, aren't you, Mikhail? But I think your cleverness may have gotten you into a bit of trouble."
    He watched her with hooded eyes. His teeth gleamed white in the firelight. "Did I happen to mention, Miss Whitney, that the last person impertinent enough to beat me at chess was thrown in the dungeon and tortured for thirty years?"
    "I believe that would have made you about two at the time," she teased, her eyes glued to the chessboard.
    He sucked in his breath sharply. He had been comfortable in her presence, felt totally accepted. She obviously believed he was mortal, with superior telepathic powers. Mikhail lazily reached across the board to make his move, saw the dawning comprehension in her eyes. "I believe what we have is checkmate," he said silkily.
    "I should have known a man who walks in the forest surrounded by wolves would be devious." She smiled up at him. "Great game, Mikhail. I really enjoyed it." Raven sank back into the cushions of the chair. "Can you talk to animals?" she asked curiously.
    He liked her in his home, liked the way the fire burned blue in her hair and the way the shadows clung so lovingly to her face. He had memorized every inch of it, knew that if he closed his eyes, the picture would still be there, the high, delicate cheekbones, her small nose and lush mouth. "Yes." He answered truthfully, not wanting lies between them.
    "Would you have killed Jacob?"
    Her lashes were beautiful and held his attention. "Be careful of what you ask little one," he cautioned.
    She curled her legs beneath under her, regarded him steadily. "You know, Mikhail, you are so used to using your power, you don't even stop to think if it's right or wrong."
    "He had no right to touch you. He was causing you pain."
    "But he didn't know he was. And you had no right to touch me, but you did anyway," she pointed out reasonably.
    His eyes glittered coldly. "I have every right. You belong to me." He said it calmly, his voice soft, with a hint of warning. "More importantly, Raven, I did not cause you pain."
    Raven's breath caught in her throat. Her tongue moistened her lips with a small, delicate gesture. "Mikhail"—her voice was hesitant, as she chose her words carefully—"I belong to myself. I'm a person, not something you can own. In any case. I live in the United States. I'm going back there soon and intend to be on the next train to Budapest."
    His smile was that of a hunter. Predatory. For a moment the firelight gleamed red, so that his eyes glowed like a wolf's in the night. He said nothing, simply watched her