From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

“You are quite demanding.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I
imagine a Princess to be demanding.”
“I am not demanding,” I stated. “Get off me.”
He arched a brow. “Reallyy?”
“Telling yyou to move is not being demanding.”
“We’ll have to disagree on that.” He paused. “Princess.”
Myy lips twitched in wryy humor, but I managed to stifle the smile.
“You shouldn’t call me that.”
“Then what should I call yyou? A name, perhaps?”
“I’m…I’m no one,” I told him.
“No One? What a strange name. Do girls with a name like that often
make a habit of wearing other people’s clothing?”
“I’m not a girl,” I snapped.
“I would sure hope not.” He paused, lips curling down at the corners.
“How old are yyou?”
“Old enough to be in here, if that’s what yyou’re worried about.”
“In other words, old enough to be masquerading as someone else,
allowing others to believe yyou’re another person and then allowing them
to kiss—”
“I get what yyou’re sayying,” I cut him off. “Yes, I’m old enough for all
those things.”
One eyyebrow rose. “I’ll tell yyou who I am, although I have a feeling
yyou alreadyy know. I’m Hawke Flyynn.”
“Hi,” I said, feeling foolish for doing so.
The dimple in his right cheek deepened. “This is the part where yyou
tell me yyour name.”
Myy lips nor myy tongue moved.
“Then I’ll have to keep calling yyou Princess.” His eyyes were much
warmer now, and I wanted to see if the pain had eased but managed to
resist. I thought that perhaps his pain had gone awayy. If so…
“The least yyou can do is tell me whyy yyou didn’t stop me,” he said
before I could give in to the curiosityy and reach out with myy senses.
I had no idea how I could answer that when I didn’t fullyy understand
it myyself.
One side of his lips quirked up. “I’m sure it’s more than myy
disarming good looks.”
I wrinkled myy nose. “Of course.”