To Steal a Prince Page 2

  My blood freezes in my veins. In a rush, I remember the café, Mr. Suit, stealing the car. This is his car, isn’t it? So why isn’t he screaming at me?

  Grabbing the strap of my bag, I punch the seatbelt from its clip. I have to pull my bag from metal jaws that have formed around it. Hopefully the crown is intact. I leap from the car, trying to ignore the dizziness that washes over me.

  “Don’t get up so fast. Here, sit awhile.” Mr. Suit is trying to be charming, but I know he just wants to keep me here until the cops show up.

  “Thanks,” I say, “but I have to be going.”

  His large friend steps up to block my path. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “Nic,” Mr. Suit lays a hand on his shoulder. “Not right now. She was in an accident.”

  “With your car. The one she stole less than a minute ago.”

  “Let me handle this.” Mr. Suit’s voice is low.

  Nic sighs. “Your father won’t like it.”

  “He doesn’t like anything. You can handle the police?”

  “Fine. What’s the story?”

  “You know they won’t ask for one.”

  I sway dangerously. Mr. Suit catches me against his shoulder.

  “Careful,” he says.

  I only have enough energy to lean against him.

  Nic’s eyes trace my curves, not bothering with subtlety. “You think she’s worth it?” He ignores my glare.

  Mr. Suit’s hand tightens around my waist. “I’ll see you later, Nic.”

  Sirens wail in the distance. A car pulls up beside us, and Mr. Suit helps me in. The seats are chilled leather. Who is this man who can conjure vehicles from thin air?

  “Where do you live?” His lips are close enough that they could brush my cheek. He doesn’t wear cologne, but the unmasked scent of his manliness is enough to fog my brain.

  “Prince Street. Halfway down.” I wince. Why do I keep telling him things? How is he doing this to me? I generally try to give away as little as possible. He already knows too much about me.

  The driver takes us down a side street, smoothly turning the wheel. I wonder if I should jump out, try to disappear down an alley. Peering out the window, I wait for an opportunity. We slow for a group of pedestrians. I tense. This is my chance to bolt.

  Mr. Suit lays a hand on my thigh, making me jump. Not only did he startle me, his hand is much higher than what is proper between strangers.

  “Sorry.” He withdraws his hand, and I feel a pang of regret. “I don’t want you to go, not yet. Can I make sure that you’re okay first?”

  I nod. Taking a deep breath, I try to settle into my seat. I tell myself that I’m staying because it’s too dangerous to leave right now, not because his hand felt so good against my skin.

  I hug my bag close as the city slides by. Should I tell him where I live? Can I trust him? I observe him from the corner of my eye. If he trusts me, he’s a fool. Why is he being so nice to me?

  The driver slows as he turns down Prince Street.

  “Just tell me when.”

  Those hazel eyes will be the death of me. I bite my lip. We’re so close now, but my heart is pounding, warning me of possible danger.

  “Here,” I blurt out.

  The car stops sharply. In the rearview, the driver admonishes me with his eyes.

  I hunch in my seat, terrified for a reason I can’t put my finger on. Mr. Suit gets out of the car. I try to breathe as he walks around to my side. No matter how pretty he is, I can’t let him in too far. Trusting people is a gamble, one that’s so easy to lose.

  He opens the door for me, offering his hand. “Coming?”

  Warily, I step from the car. I wish I could snub his hand, but I think I really do need the support right now. I take a moment to dust myself off as best as I can. The powder from the airbag is atrociously clingy. Mr. Suit waits for me, then gallantly offers me one arm. With his help, I wobble toward the building.

  I only get to the steps before I have to rest. “You can leave me here. I’ll make it up myself.” I sag against the railing.

  “Ah, but I don’t intend to leave you. No more arguing. Let’s get up to your flat.” Wrapping an arm around me, he whisks me through the door.

  “Are you staying then?” I can barely believe this. The man has some nerve to invite himself in.

  “No. You’re coming with me. I want to make sure you have all your things.”

  I shake my head. This is a funny one. I won’t argue with him yet. Let him get us up these stairs first. Once we reach my flat, all I have to do is shut the door in his face. Hopefully I can escape before he comes back with the police.

  “Do you really live here, or are you just trying to torture me with endless stairs?”

  I grin. “Only three flights to go.”

  “Only?”

  “A bit out of shape?” My jab is patently false, but it’s so ridiculous that I can’t resist.

  “Stairs are easier to climb when you aren’t carrying someone else.”

  “You’re barely helping me. Look, I can walk on my own.”

  “Oh no you don’t!” He catches me before I can wriggle from his grasp. I’m not sure I could get away even if I hadn’t just been in a car crash. He’s very strong. He holds me to his chest. We’re very still for a moment.

  “This is my flat.” I back away. He’s far too close. “Well, it’s really Gabe’s flat, but I’ve been staying with him for so long that I forget sometimes.”

  He pierces me with a glance. “Gabe?”

  The door swings open. The man in question plants one hip against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Where have you been? I tried calling you, but your phone rang on your dresser. You didn’t go through with it, did you?”

  “Gabe?” He’s impossible to talk to when he’s like this. I can’t even get in the door.

  “I know I’m not supposed to talk about your ‘profession,’ but I don’t want you bringing any more stolen goods in here.”

  “Gabe…”

  “So did you take it? Did you?”

  “Gabe!”

  “What?”

  I push the door open so he can see Mr. Suit. “We have company.”

  Gabe’s jaw drops. I can’t really blame him. Mr. Suit would have that effect on anyone. Gabe straightens, trying to pull himself together. His eyes look like they’re about to bulge from his head.

  He bows low. I’m stunned by the absurdity. Mr. Suit is handsome, but bowing might make his inflated ego burst.

  “Your Highness,” Gabe says, “Welcome to our home.”

  “Thank you, Gabe.” His mouth quirks at the corner. “This is a bit crass after your welcome, but could you direct me to the facilities?”

  “Sure. Second door on the left.” Gabe points, his eyes never leaving the man’s face.

  “Thank you.”

  As soon as the door closes, Gabe pounces on me.

  “What did you do?” His whisper is harsh. “Why is he here?”

  The room spins. I plop onto the couch. “That’s a prince?” I ask. “The prince?”

  “Yes, that’s the prince. How did you not recognize him? You’ve been here long enough.” Gabe collapses onto the couch beside me. “Oh, god. He knows, doesn’t he. He caught you stealing it.”

  “Shut up. He doesn’t know about that.”

  “So you did do it!” Gabe jumps up. “Why do you always do this? Do you know what you put me through?”

  I roll my eyes. “You don’t complain when I chip in for rent.”

  “Yeah, but you could do that legally. Like normal people. It’s a lot less risky.”

  The toilet flushes.

  I turn to Gabe. “There’s a prince in our bathroom.”

  “A prince pissed in our toilet.”

  “Should we frame the seat?”

  The door opens. The prince towels off his hands. “Sorry. I should have introduced myself earlier. I’m Darius Alexander Lion. The Fourth. But please, call me Damon.”

  �
�Damon,” says Gabe, unable to keep from bowing again, “I’d love to hear how you met the incomparable Grace Sparrow.”

  “I had to chase her down.”

  Gabe turns to me, eyes wide. “He chased you?”

  “Well, I did steal his car.”

  “You what?”

  Damon strides into the room. “Crashed it too. Got it nice and mangled.”

  Gabe mouths at me, too amazed to give voice to words of how stupid I am.

  “Um…” I don’t really want to ask, but part of me needs to know. “How expensive was that car?”

  “It cost 4.8 million dollars.”

  I’m glad I’m sitting down.

  “If it’s all right with you, Gabe, I’m going to take Grace with me. I want the family doctor to look her over, and keep her until we’re sure everything’s satisfactory. She flipped that car a few too many times.”

  “That explains the split lip then. Unless you gave that to her? I wouldn’t exactly blame you.”

  “No.” Damon reaches out to touch the other side of my lip. “She did that to herself.”

  The air is practically humming. My heart thuds. It’s almost as if he’s testing to see Gabe’s reaction. I wish his thumb could linger here forever.

  Shifting his hand, the prince breaks the spell. “Grace, ready to pack?”

  I go to my room obediently. Gabe raises an eyebrow as I pass. Obedience is a trait I rarely employ. I scoop a few clothes into my bag. I don’t have much, and I’m sure the prince won’t keep me long. Why he wants me for more than a few minutes is beyond me. There are times when I can barely stand myself, so I don’t know why he’d willingly subject himself to me.

  “All set?” Damon asks. “I don’t want to keep Rashad waiting.”

  I realize that he must mean his driver. “I have everything.”

  “Good. Gabe, it was nice to meet you.” The prince holds out his hand.

  Gabe shakes. “If you need anything for her, straightjacket, riot shield, just let me know.”

  “Thanks. I think I can handle things.” Damon steps outside to wait for me.

  I give Gabe a small wave. “I’ll see you soon.”

  He surprises me by wrapping me in a bear hug. “Be careful.” He looks at me meaningfully, though a little resignedly, as if he knows advising me is a lost cause.

  “I will.”

  “You won’t. But try anyway. Stay out of trouble.”

  The door closes, and I’m alone with Damon.

  “A prince, huh?” I try to sound casual, but I’m not bold enough to meet his eyes.

  “I try to fly under the radar. Can I get your bag?”

  “Isn’t that beneath you?”

  “Not when you’re so wobbly.”

  I relent. It does feel heavier than normal, and not just because of the crown. I think I’m fading. I halt on the landing.

  “Are you all right?”

  Oh my god. I didn’t just steal Damon’s car. I stole his crown.

  “I’m fine. I might need to lie down soon.”

  “I’ll tell Rashad to drive quickly.”

  The bag bumps against his side as we make our way down the stairs. I hope he doesn’t feel anything too familiar bulging from the canvas.

  Damon steadies me as we descend. “So, you know a little about me. I have a question for you.”

  Shit. It’s going to be about the stealing, isn’t it?

  “Who’s Gabe?”

  That wasn’t what I was expecting. “He’s a good friend.”

  “Just a friend?”

  I smile. “I’m not his type.”

  “Why not?” He sounds almost affronted.

  “I’m a woman.”

  “Oh.” He’s silent a moment, mulling this over.

  “He might like you, though. Did you see the way he stared?”

  “That’s enough.” Scooping me up, he carries me the rest of the way down.

  As intoxicating as it is to be in his arms, I can’t stay here. I push against his chest when we reach the foyer, letting him know that it’s time to put me down. Damon sets me on my feet immediately. Ever the consummate gentleman, he makes sure that I’m steady before he removes his support.

  “Shall we?” He holds the door for me as we walk into the street.

  Heat hits us as soon as we step outside. The morning’s cool has been scorched away by the summer sun. I’m sure the car is being chilled, and I can’t wait to get in. I open the door for Damon.

  He frowns. “Why didn’t you let me get that?”

  “Just get in. You’re carrying my bag, and I’m perfectly capable of opening a door.”

  The prince swings into the car with a swift motion I could never dream of imitating. “I know you’re capable, but I was taught to be courteous.”

  I drop onto the seat next to him. “So was I.”

  “Did your lessons include the most polite way to appropriate a car?”

  “I didn’t say I was taught very well.”

  Shaking his head, Damon turns to the driver. “To the palace please, Rashad.”

  “Right away, Highness.”

  The prince presses a button, and a tinted window rolls up that splits the car in half. Seeing my cautious expression, he winks at me.

  “Didn’t I just tell you I was taught to be courteous? I only want a word alone. It can be hard to find privacy at the palace. Everyone feels the need to uncover everyone else’s secrets.”

  I tighten my grip on my bag’s strap. “You’re really taking me to the palace?”

  “Where else would we go?”

  “Prison?”

  He laughs. “You need a doctor more. I want our physician to see you, and check that you don’t have a concussion. Or worse.”

  I hold a hand to my forehead. “I feel fine. Honest.”

  “It would make me feel better to get an expert opinion.”

  I’m an expert. Just in a different profession. Not that I want to remind him of that. I’m sure there will be many people urging the prince to change his mind about pressing charges. That large friend of his, Nic, for one.

  Holding my gaze steady as long as I dare, I study Damon’s face. The light has turned his lashes golden. His eyes flick to mine, making my heart jolt.

  My mouth seems dry all of a sudden. “Why are you doing this for me?”

  “It was partially my fault that you got wrecked. I was careless, and didn’t think anyone would be crazy enough to steal a car with royal plates.”

  I hadn’t noticed those. Another mistake on my part.

  “You never could have taken off if I hadn’t left the keys behind.”

  That’s debatable, but I bite back a reply. It doesn’t seem wise to advertise my skills of theft.

  Damon flips open a compartment to reveal a row of glasses. “Would you like anything? Scotch, bourbon, spiced rum?”

  “No thanks. It’s still a little early.”

  “Good point.” He closes the compartment. “I just want you to be comfortable.”

  For some reason, his comment irritates me. “Why? I ruined your car. Are you afraid I’m going to sue you for getting hurt while totaling it?”

  He smiles, bemused. “Should I be?”

  “I guess not.” I sigh. “I could probably only get emotional damages, anyway. That car and I shared a deep bond for about fifteen seconds.”

  “Machines can be fickle creatures.”

  We lapse into silence. The houses become more and more ornate as we enter the heart of the city. For some reason, the displays of wealth make me anxious. I don’t belong here. I’ll stand out too much, and attracting attention is the last thing I want. As nice as it is to be in Damon’s presence, I can’t stay with him for long. I have to slink back to the shadows.

  “How long will I have to stay at the palace?”

  “You don’t want to stay?” His tone is joking, but he sounds a little hurt. Most girls are probably thrilled to get the grand tour. Gathering himself, he continues. “The doctor will most li
kely want you to stay overnight to make sure you’re okay.”

  So I’ll be his captive for the evening. At least my prison will be more ornate than most.

  We start up the winding road that leads to the palace. Damon rolls the windows down so I can see our approach. The views are magnificent. Since the palace sits on a hill, the whole city is laid before it. Red clay roofs cluster together, as if trying to ward off the new wave of gleaming office buildings.

  A high wall rings the palace. Rashad slows as we come to a huge gate. It’s stamped with the royal crest, a lion fighting a serpent. They’re so entwined that I can’t tell which is winning the battle. The gate creaks open, splitting the combatants.

  Before I stumbled across this place, I didn’t know it existed. I could never have found it on a map. The City of Lions is one of the world’s smallest monarchies, though you wouldn’t guess it from their palace. Spiraling towers covered with turquoise and ivory tell of their power. A waterfall spills out from one, a show of wealth in this dry country. Even the air feels richer here, somehow charged with possibility.

  Peacocks flap out of our way, their tail feathers swishing behind them. I’ve never been anywhere like this. And I thought I felt out of place before…

  I press myself into my seat. Should I refuse to get out of the car? I’m not even going to be able to unpack here. If anyone finds what I’m carrying in my bag, I’m screwed. No matter how beautiful this place is, I can’t afford to be here long.

  The car stops all too soon. I force myself to step out before Damon can help me.

  “This way,” he says, whisking me away before I can thank Rashad. The prince pushes through a door carved with lions mid-hunt. Their legs are outstretched as they chase down prey. I shiver, feeling like a gazelle who has wandered into the midst of a pride. It’s not like I have a record, but I’m very much out of my element. Gossip must travel fast in a place like this. Once people learn that I’m here because I crashed the prince’s car, I doubt I’ll be making many friends.

  Damon leads me down a long corridor. I really hope our destination involves a bed of some kind. I’d like to lie down, if only for a moment.

  The corridor seems to last forever. I wish I could take off my heels, but it would probably be rude to do that in front of a prince. The farther we walk, the more I have to lean on Damon. I’m annoyed by my inability to stay upright, but he doesn’t complain.