To Steal a Prince (13 page)

Damon puts an arm around me. “I’m glad you stole my car.”

“Really?”

“How else would I have met you?”

For that, I lean in to kiss him. I lose myself in his lips, in the scent of salt air that still clings to him. How am I lucky enough to be with him right now? He’s the kindest man I’ve ever known.

He pulls away far earlier than I would have liked. “I hate to do this, but I really should get ready.”

I look him up and down. “All you need is a tie.”

“A tie and swim trunks.” He chuckles. “I’d love to see Father’s reaction.”

Damon escorts me to the elevator, then up to the main hall. “You wait here,” he says. “Go in on time even if I’m late. I don’t want to give them an excuse to criticize you.”

I stand with one arm against the elevator doors. I’m loath to leave him, even for a minute. Everything’s brighter when he’s around. “Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you?”

“I’ll manage somehow. Don’t worry, I’ll only be a moment.”

Reluctantly, I step back. He smiles as the doors snick shut. I stare at my reflection in the doors, trying to commit his smile to memory.

A shadowy figure appears over my shoulder. I whirl to find Marc there.

My hand flies to my chest, trying to control my pounding heart.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“You scared me.” I’m too shocked to do anything more than state the obvious.

“Grace, you don’t always have to be on your guard. Not around me, at least.” He sets a hand on the wall next to me, blocking my escape with his arm.

I scan the hall, searching desperately for Nic, Eris, Rashad, anyone I know. The hall is oddly empty for this hour.

“I take it you had a good day. Did my brother show you his ponies?” Marc smirks. “He must not like you much if he’s not even willing to show you a good time. I, on the other hand, know how to treat a girl. Have you ever heard of the Two Palms? It’s an exclusive club, and I have VIP access. I’ll take you there tonight. You know, if you actually want to have some fun.”

I cross my arms. “I think I’ve had enough fun today, but thank you.”

“Tomorrow, then. Or the next night. I can be patient. As patient as I need to be.”

“There’s no need for patience. I can tell you now, I’m not a fan of that scene.” Shouldn’t Damon be back by now? How long can it take a man to put on a suit?

“Something else then. We could fly to Ibiza. My mother has an estate there. It’s so private that you don’t have to wear anything if you don’t want to.” He runs a hand down my side, blind to the fact that I’m cringing away from him. I’m surprised he doesn’t leave a trail of slime on my dress.

“You’re very attractive, Grace. You deserve more than my so-called brother.” Marc looms closer. Is he actually trying for a kiss?

This is getting out of control. If he’s being rude, then I can be too. I push his face away, my hand over his mouth.

His face contorts. “Why do you have to be such a bitch?”

“When you decided to be a bastard. I was trying to be nice, but you clearly weren’t getting the picture. I’m going to use small words so you don’t get confused: I’m. Not. Interested.”

“What can I do to change your mind?”

“Why would you want to? Apparently I’m a bitch, remember?”

Marc mutters a garbled curse.

“And I’m not going to be interested in you. Ever. Understand?”

He draws away. Maybe repetition has helped the message penetrate his thick skull. “You’re going to regret this.”

“I really don’t think so.” But as I walk away, I feel his glare on my back. I have the sense that I’m going to need to watch my step. And I intend to.

9

I walk briskly toward the hallway that leads to my room, determined not to look back. I refuse to give Marc the pleasure. Someone big is walking toward me. It’s Nic. I breathe a sigh of relief, and break into a run toward him.

“You look happy to see me. What the hell is going on?”

I put him between me and the main hall, but I try not to make it look obvious. “I bumped into Marc.”

Nic frowns. “Are you sure it wasn’t him that bumped into you? He has a bad habit of doing that. I’ll let Damon know, he’ll set him straight.”

“Don’t tell Damon,” I plead.

“Why not? He’d want to know.”

“Please.” I try to hold back tears. I’m torn between wanting to feel protected, and wanting to feel that I can fight my own battles.

“Don’t do that to me. Not the waterworks.” Nic sighs. “Fine. But if it happens again, one of us will have to take care of it.”

Taking deep breaths, I fan my face.

“Would you like me to escort you back to your room?” Nic asks. “I can handle the necessary excuses.”

“No.” I draw myself upright. “Damon asked me to dinner, and I accepted his invitation.”

“Well then,” Nic offers me his arm. “Shall we?”

He guides me back to the hall. For once, his bulk is comforting rather than intimidating. I stay a half step behind him as we enter the columned room. I’m a little embarrassed to be using him as a shield, but I do desperately need him right now. Nic is kind enough not to mention it.

His keen eyes sweep over the columns, and I realize that he’s searching for Marc. I’m a bit flattered that he cares enough to be protecting me. No doubt it’s instinctual, at this point.

“There.” The bodyguard points to the right.

“What?” I lurch backward, unable to flee since we’re still arm in arm.

“Damon. On the stairs.”

“Oh.” I realize that Marc has shaken me more than I’d thought.

“You go.” Nic gently pushes me toward the prince. “If Marc tries anything at dinner, I’ll take care of him.”

I give him a tight smile, too unnerved even to thank him. The sight of Damon descending the spiral stair in a charcoal suit is enough to ease my mind. It fits him snugly enough that I find myself picturing him back in his swim trunks.

“Good evening, my lady.” He bows on the last step. As he takes my hand, I register that he’s wearing a purple tie that matches my dress perfectly. “Ready for dinner?”

I nod, grasping his fingers gratefully in mine. Together, we head for the towering double doors that lead to the dining room.

“Are you all right?” Damon asks.

“Why?”

“It’s just that you’re gripping my hand rather tightly.”

“Sorry.” I try to disentangle myself from him.

“Don’t be.” He gives me a reassuring squeeze. “Ready?”

I’m not, but he pushes the doors open anyway.

There’s something different in the air tonight. Instead of announcing us, the herald coughs nervously. Instead of bustling around the long table, white-gloved servants shift from foot to foot, eyes darting around the room.

In their high-backed chairs, the king and queen sit stony-faced. Their robes are golden today, but judging by their expressions, they could not care less about their luxurious surroundings.

I glance at Nic, who seems to be brooding in the corner. He gives his head a slight shake, eyes fixed on Marc.

Oh no. My heart sinks. What has he done? Marc is turned away from us, but I would bet anything that a smug smile plays on his lips.

Damon draws me close, his hand on my waist. “What is it? We’re late, but not that late.”

King Darius sets his hands on the table, pushing himself from his chair. “The queen’s necklace is gone.”

“Not just gone.” Queen Sarina’s shrill voice cuts through us all. “Stolen!” She purses her lips until they turn white.

“Well, have the guard sort it out.” Damon pulls out a chair for me. “That’s what they’re there for. We can eat while they work.”

“You insolent brat,” Sarina hisses. “Always thinking of yourself. No one’s going to eat again until it’s found. And the culprit punished.”

There’s no way I’m going to sit when the queen could reveal herself to be a gorgon at any moment. She really should get her pressure checked if she’s making those sounds.

Damon opens his mouth, but a look from his father stops him. I’m surprised, because Darius doesn’t look angry. He looks profoundly sad.

The prince takes a breath. “Should we retire to our rooms then, Father? If it’s a matter of security, there’s not much we can do to help.”

“This isn’t just any old bauble.” Sarina is practically spitting. “It was my coronation gift.” She glares at me. “It’s worth more than you’ll ever be.”

I take a step back. That’s an awful lot of hostility from someone who barely knows me. I can see where Marc gets it from.

“Father,” Damon asks, his voice tight, “are we dismissed?”

The king sighs. “Whoever took the necklace broke into the queen’s quarters. There are no cameras in there.”

“Your point being?” the prince asks.

“We have no proof of who committed this crime. We have to suspect everyone.”

“Even me, Father?” Though he tries to deliver the words in a deadpan manner, I can hear the furious undertone.

“Just oblige us, please? Oh, and make sure Lady Sparrow cooperates.”

There’s a sudden pounding in my ears as everyone looks at me. Did I hear that right? The room starts to spin.

“This is outrageous,” Damon says. “She’s been with me all day, anyway.”

Marc turns toward us. “Really? You didn’t think we’d suspect your new friend?” He rises, but merely examines his fingernails. “She stole your car, in case you’ve forgotten. Wrecked it, too.”

“Stay out of this, Marc,” Damon growls.

“Don’t blame me for the company you keep, brother.” He smirks at me.

No. No, no, no. I can feel the blood drain from my face. Marc has set me up. He’s cornered me again, just not physically this time. Not even Nic can save me now.

“Return to your rooms if you wish,” the king says. “Guards will be posted in every corridor. Your persons and rooms will be searched. Please don’t aggravate the palace guard.”

The servants bow, removing their white gloves. Damon turns on his heel, dragging me along as he storms from the room. He throws open the doors, and we’re met with a pair of guards.

“Sorry, Highness. We have to search you.”

“Her, too.”

Damon bites back a curse. “Fine. Be quick about it.”

One of the guards has me lean against a wall. He runs his hands lightly over my body. We both know that this is a farce, since my dress hides nothing. Still, he does linger in one place a bit too long.

“It’s not up my ass, you know,” I tell the guard.

His face flushes as Damon fixes him with a frosty stare.

“You may go, my lady.”

Damon’s pat down takes longer, since he has a jacket and pockets. The second guard hurries over him, probably trying to keep the prince from getting angrier.

“I-I’m going to have to ask you to spread your legs, Highness.”

Damon’s glare turns to ice. “I really wouldn’t.”

“Um… Nicolai?”

Nic pats the guard on the back. “I’ll take it from here. He’ll get a full strip search, don’t worry.”

The bodyguard sets his hand on our shoulders, steering us into the main hall.

“I’m so sorry, Grace,” Damon says. “My parents can be so embarrassing.”

“Welcome to the club. We have seven billion members.” As much as I want to laugh about it, I am unnerved that both monarchs singled me out like that.

“They aren’t usually this crass, I promise. I’ll have them make it up to you someday.”

Unless I’m run out over false accusations, of course.

Nic walks through the columns. “Upstairs, Highness? I want to supervise the search of your room.”

“I’d better go.” Damon gives my hand one last squeeze, though it doesn’t feel as reassuring this time. “I need to make sure they don’t find my safe.”

“What should I do?”

“You’ll be fine. Just let them search your room and it’ll be over. Then relax on the terrace. You have nothing to worry about. Remember, you were with me all day.” He smiles, bows, and follows Nic to the elevator. The doors close on them, leaving me alone in the giant hall.

My stomach feels like it’s twisting itself into knots. I wish being with him all day would absolve me. And I wish I could be as trusting as him that this isn’t going to turn sour, and fast.

“Sorry,” Marc says, leaning against a column.

I whirl on him. “Stop doing that!”

“Doing what?”

“Sneaking up on me! And what are you sorry for, anyway?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry you’ll be leaving us. I thought that should be obvious.”

“Why should I leave? I didn’t steal anything.”

Marc smirks.

“But you did, didn’t you?”

He takes out a gold coin, flipping it between his fingers. “Why would I steal anything? I’m rich. And to take my mother’s own jewels? Well, that’s just too despicable for words.”

I cross my arms, barely able to contain my rage.

“You know what else is despicable? Crashing my brother’s car. That one was supposed to be mine when he got a new one. So that’s one Koenigsegg you owe me. Also, I heard that there was a crown stolen. It was returned, which was a huge relief to us all, but there’s still no sign of the person with the light fingers.”

“Marc…”

“Don’t interrupt me. First the car, then the crown. I must say, what a move, to win Damon’s trust like that. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger now, don’t you? Helping him with ‘security.’ Now that’s a stroke of genius. He took you to the Jewel Room, didn’t he? His back would only need to be turned for a moment for you to slip it in your pocket.” One side of his lip curls as he looks me up and down. “No pockets now, but I’m sure you’ve hidden it away somewhere.”

“I didn’t take it, and you know it.”

“Of course you didn’t. I took it off her dresser. But that’s not what matters. What matters is where it is now. What matters is what Damon will think if you’ve stolen not one, not two, but three things from our family. He might excuse you for two, but three? That’s a bit of a stretch, even for my dull-witted brother.”

“Well, I’ll just tell him what you said, you ass. Do you really think Damon’s going to believe you over me?”

Marc slips the coin into his pocket. “It won’t matter what he believes. It’ll matter what the guards believe. And it won’t be your word against mine, it’ll be your word against hard, physical evidence.” He leans close to me. Too close. “Give me one kiss—and mean it. That’s all you need to do to make this mess go away.”