Princess in a Strange New Land

Princess in a Strange New Land by Linda Skye Page A

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Authors: Linda Skye
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Akna’s mind evaporated, her rage sharpening into a fine point. She turned hard, furious eyes on the British noblewoman, who unconsciously stepped back from the force of Akna’s gaze.
    “And you would know of savages, Lady Leake,” Akna countered, her tone bladed. “I understand you to be quite the beast yourself.”
    Georgina flicked open her fan and hid her snarl behind its fine pleats.
    “You’re one to talk,” she retorted. “I hear you like to entertain men like a dog in heat.”
    Akna’s fury grew as cold and sharp as ice, and she stepped forward menacingly with balled fists. Suddenly she felt a large hand clamp on to her forearm and another on her slim waist. She turned to see that John had caught up with her, and his protective stance and furious eyes spoke volumes.
    “You have gone too far, Lady Leake,” he warned, his voice dark with anger.
    “Not far enough, apparently,” she said, looking down her nose at the way John held Akna’s arm. “You just couldn’t keep yourself from the filth, could you, John?”
    “How dare you speak to either of us. I promise that you won’t go unpunished for your despicable—”
    Akna spun away, her feet carrying her across the hall even as she heard John’s promise of retribution in the distance. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, her mind awhirl. Her throat had closed up in anger, so she grabbed the first goblet she could find and downed its contents in one gulp. Then she reached for another. As she swallowed mouthful after mouthful of the sweet substance, she felt her belly grow warm and her vision grow fuzzy.
How odd
, she thought as she shakily set her third goblet down. A strange fire crept from the pit of her stomach to her chest, and she shook her head, trying to clear her eyes and focus her vision. Her limbs felt loose…too loose, and she suddenly felt the desperate urge to sit down—or perhaps to erupt into riotous laughter. In the end, she did both—but not completely on purpose. Her legs seemed to give out, and she briefly remembered laughing before her vision darkened.
    From the other side of the room, John began to curse profusely. He watched as Akna swayed dangerously, her eyes rolling back. He sprinted across the hall just in time to catch her falling body across his outstretched arms. He pulled her up, lifting her whole body to rest against his chest. One sniff confirmed his suspicions. Akna had just unknowingly downed three goblets of sweet wine—and they had already taken a toll on the unsuspecting princess. Her head lolled against his shoulder, and she giggled incoherently.
    Cursing wine and goblets and museums and women, John swept Akna into his arms and marched smartly out of the hall before anyone else noticed her intoxication. He swept through the corridors, imperiously staring down anyone who even glanced their way. Finally he arrived at his chambers. He pushed his way past the doors and then kicked them shut behind him. He was now completely alone with a drunken woman—not that it was his first time in such a situation, but it was the first time it was not filled with mutually lewd thoughts. He let Akna slide down the length of his body until her toes touched the floor. She tittered and spun around, her arms wide.
    “John,” she cooed drunkenly. “Come with me!”
    “Where?” he grunted crankily as he reached down to unlace his shoes.
    “To where we can be free!”
    Akna laughed loudly and threw her arms around his neck.
    “You are not yourself,” John cautioned her. “Let me have water drawn for a bath, and I will leave you to relax.”
    And sober up
, he added to himself.
    “No,” Akna said with an uncharacteristic pout, tugging on his sleeve. “Don’t leave.”
    She pressed into him with a sensual smile. Her bosom pushed up against his chest, eliciting a groan from him despite his better senses.
    “Please, Akna,” John repeated. “You are not yourself.”
    “No, I am not,” she said, suddenly straightening. “I am

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