To Steal a Prince

by Cora Caraway

  I stand beside him, peering at the crown. “Is this what this is all about?”

  “Yes. It’s fake.” He slams a fist on the table. The crown jumps, and a sensor beeps a warning.

  “How can you tell?”

  He lets out a long breath. “The color is off in the gems. They’re too cloudy, and the metal is dull.”

  “It’s not yours, is it?”

  “No. I wouldn’t be able to pull it off.” His shoulders slump. “It’s for my future bride. I would happily give it to her, if I could just find her.” He glances at me. “Sorry. I don’t mean to dump all this on you.”

  “It’s fine. You’re upset.”

  Damon turns to pace the room. “I’m not going to be the only one. My father will rake me over the coals. He was against me lending it to the museum. He didn’t think it would be safe. And of course, he’s right again.”

  He leans heavily against the counter. “I just didn’t want it in the palace. Didn’t want its weight hanging over me. I haven’t looked at it in years. All it does is remind me of what a failure I am. I need to find a wife. I need to. I’ve been told this since I was five. It’s so silly and so important all at once. And I don’t know if I can do it. Is the right one even out there? How do I know which ones like me instead of my title?”

  “Mmm.” I can’t suppress a rueful smile.

  “What is it? Too much information?”

  “No, I know that feeling. Most guys I meet like me for this.” I run a hand down my body. “It’ll be fine for a while, but then I’ll realize that they don’t listen to me. Or like me at all. I’m just convenient arm candy to them. But they’re all nice in the beginning. It’s hard to pick out the good guys.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I stopped trying.”

  He scoffs. “Then you’re in good company.” Damon brushes a light finger over the crown. “You should have seen the middle stone on the real thing.”

  I swallow. I don’t want to tell him that I saw it this morning.

  “It was so green, so clear. It would make you weep if you had any poetry in your heart.” He straightens. “All right, that’s an exaggeration. But it was beautiful. Like I said, green in the sunlight. But it would look purple in here, under these artificial lights. Alexandrite. I liked it because of the colors, and because it matched my middle name.” He looks at the fake crown, wistful. “My mother helped me pick it out. My father didn’t like it. He wanted diamonds. Much more traditional. But my mother insisted. She said it was for my bride, not his.”

  His voice quavers, and in that instant, I know that his mother is dead.

  There’s no way I can take the crown from him now. I hold back a sigh. I’ll do it, this once. But I can never let my emotions rule me again. Now that I’ve decided, it’s just a matter of switching them back. I’ve done it once. It shouldn’t be difficult to do it again. There’s not even a camera in this room.

  All I need to do is distract him for a moment. I dig my nails into my palm. All that planning for nothing. I give myself three seconds to mourn all the money I’m about to lose. There’s no way this will be worth it. Steeling myself, I get ready to undo everything.

  I’m unzipping the hidden pocket in my bag when the door squeals open. A man strides through the entry. He puffs for breath as he closes the door behind him. His chin is covered in stubble, like he didn’t have time to shave this morning. I’m sure this fiasco has had him running around all day.

  “Your Highness.” The heavyset man bows to Damon. “I’m Director Arian. We’re doing everything we can to figure out what’s happened.”

  “And what exactly has happened?” Damon’s voice is like ice.

  “A security breach, Highness. We didn’t pick it up until early this morning, when we checked the crown’s metallic signature and it didn’t match our records.”

  “So someone broke into the museum last night?”

  The director purses his lips. “We have no evidence of a break-in.”

  “Then what did happen? I made sure that the museum used safeguards, sensors and cameras, a special vault at night. Are you suggesting that someone defeated all of those measures?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to discover, Highness.” The director’s head shines with sweat. “If you’d like, you can review the security footage, but we’ve yet to find any anomalies.”

  “Show me the footage.”

  The director fumbles for a disc, then pops it into a reader. A display flickers to life, showing the museum as it was yesterday morning from three high angles. As the cameras sweep over the crown room, I feel a jolt when I recognize myself. I hope Damon won’t. The images are in black and white, and constantly moving. Besides, the grainy image of me is now walking away. I hold back a smug smile. Security must have already reviewed this segment and found it fine if they decided to show it to the prince.

  I back away slowly, edging closer to the false crown. The men are ignoring me completely, engrossed in trying to solve the mess I’ve left for them. Returning the crown should be easier, but I still have to be careful. The museum is under a lot of heat right now, and I’m sure security would love to blame someone besides themselves.

  Sidling up to the table, I feel for the real crown in my bag. I suppress a sigh as I grab hold of it. It was lovely to carry freedom in my bag, if only for a moment.

  Time to let go. There are probably fewer security features here since we’re behind a steel door, but I still want to be quick. My hands blur as I swap the crowns back.

  An alarm blares. Yelling out, I clap my hands over my ears. The sound is so loud that it’s painful.

  Arian jogs to the wall, punching five numbers into a pin pad. I wish I could see the code, but his shoulders block my view. The alarm stops. He turns to stare at me, eyes narrowed.

  “S-sorry,” I stutter. “My bag brushed something.”

  The director visibly relaxes. “Don’t worry about it, miss. Please do be careful, though. All of our alarms are on a hair-trigger right now. We don’t want any more incidents.”

  “Of course. I’m so sorry.” I step away from the table, looking at it fearfully.

  “It’s all right, Grace.” Damon wraps me in one arm. I’m not sure if he’s subtly telling the director not to reprimand me, or trying to save me from my own clumsiness.

  Arian mumbles into his walkie-talkie, informing security that it was a false alarm. Once he’s satisfied that no one will come storming in on us, he starts the footage again.

  “If you’d like, Highness, I could speed up the tape.”

  Damon frowns. “Is that wise?”

  “We also have experts examining it. And I can make copies for your own personnel to review.”

  The prince nods. “I would like copies. For now, let’s speed it up.”

  Arian pokes a button, making minutes tick away like seconds. I’m glad I’m not going to have to sit through hours of museum visitors, especially since I’ve already played my part. Throngs of people swell around the crown, but it never moves even a millimeter. Shadows grow longer, and fewer people trickle through. At last, the visitors disappear and the crown descends into its vault.

  Sighing, the director ejects the disc and hands it to Damon. “There’s more footage from the vault, with even less action. I’m afraid we simply haven’t found anything yet.”

  “There has to be something.” The prince sounds so defeated.

  Arian clasps his hands, at a loss. “I’ll let you know if our experts catch anything. I assure you, Highness, we’re putting everything we have into this.”

  Damon gives him a curt nod. “Keep me updated. Make sure to report to me and not my father. He won’t want to know about this until we know what happened.”

  “Of course, Your Excellency.” Arian bows deeply.

  Is he dismissing us? I can’t have that. Not until Damon gets his crown back. I can’t bear to see him like this, his shoulders slumped and eyes deadened.

  I clear my throat. �
��Excuse me, Director?”

  “Yes?”

  “How many times did you test the metal?”

  “More than once, I can assure you. Believe me, Miss, despite recent events, we do run a professional operation.”

  “Would you mind testing the crown one more time, just so we can see for ourselves?”

  Annoyance flashes across Arian’s face. “Would you like this, Highness?”

  Damon nods. “At least then I can’t deny it.”

  “Very well.” The director smiles, our cheerful host once again. “I must warn you, our tests haven’t varied much.”

  Putting on a set of gloves, Arian picks up a scanner. A beam refracts through the central gem, casting purple rainbows on the walls. The scanner beeps, its reading complete.

  “Let me get you a printout.” Arian taps a screen, and paper streams out. Ripping it from the machine, he holds it out to Damon. “Here are your results, you see here—” Arian blinks, his mouth agape.

  “What does it say?” The prince pulls the paper from his hand.

  “At the bottom, you’ll see the crown’s metallic signature compared to what the scanner read.” Arian rocks on his heels, trying to pull himself together. “The last number shows how similar they are.”

  “But this says they’re a hundred percent match.”

  “I saw that too, Highness. Let me try a different scanner.”

  Purple shadows swirl on the walls again. Damon leans in to look at the crown. He glances at me, and I see the wild hope in his eyes. His look of pure desire makes my heart speed.

  “Here’s the printout.” Arian snatches it the moment it emerges. He spins to show Damon, and their eyes dart to the last line.

  “Another perfect match,” Arian whispers.

  Damon grabs my hand, pulling me over to the crown. “My eyes must have deceived me. Look how it glistens!”

  I’m more interested in how his eyes glisten, but I politely fix my gaze on the crown. “It really is beautiful.”

  “It’s here. It’s safe.” Damon turns to me, his face lit up with joy. I can’t help but grin along. “Grace, it’s safe!” He hugs me close, lifting my feet off the ground. Laughing, he spins me around with him.

  My face is pressed against his crisp shirt. Closing my eyes, I inhale. He smells faintly of vanilla and cedar. My brain feels like it’s short-circuited. How did I end up in his arms, pressed against his strong chest?

  Damon sets me down. The lab whirls around us. He leans toward me, planting a kiss on my lips. It feels like sparks leap between us. His lips are so warm, so vibrant. All too soon, he pulls away.

  “Sorry,” he says. “I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

  Me neither. I would tell him if I had retained the power of speech. I hold onto a table for balance. If my heart beats any faster, it might hammer its way out of my chest. All I can think is that I was wrong. A kiss from him was worth the price of a crown.

  Damon seems as dazed as I am. Arian observes us, one eyebrow raised.

  “Would you like to take the crown back to the palace, Highness?”

  The prince runs a hand through his hair. “That would probably be best.”

  Arian bows. “I’ll get you a briefcase.”

  We leave the museum with a case cuffed to Damon’s hand. He still insists on opening doors for me. I let him without protest. I’m too busy thinking about how soft his lips are, and if there’s any way I could get him to kiss me again.

  4

  My head is still abuzz as we drive through the palace gates. The briefcase lies between us on the backseat, but Damon feels so close to me.

  I exhale. I need to stop this. I can’t get attached. If I’m too weak to see Damon as a mark, then I need to move along. Pulling my bag onto my lap, I square my shoulders. Yes, I need to go as soon as possible. I turn to Damon to tell him this.

  “Oh no. I’m in trouble now.” He points to the palace steps with his uncuffed hand. “Nic doesn’t look too happy with me.”

  That’s an understatement if I ever heard one. His large friend looks pissed. Nic stands, crossing his arms as our car glides to a stop. His frown deepens when Damon steps out of the car. The prince walks around to my door, but Nic cuts him off, forcing Damon to look at him. I want to preserve my own hide, but I’m burning to hear what’s about to go down.

  Grabbing my bag, I tumble out of the car. The driver takes off immediately, as if he wants no part in the imminent drama. The three of us stand alone. I can’t get to Damon unless I go past Nic. I suddenly feel very vulnerable.

  “What’s the second rule?” Nic growls.

  Damon sighs, bowing his head.

  “Never make yourself a target. I should be carrying that.”

  “I’m safe here in the palace.” Damon lifts the case. “Who’s going to take this from me now?”

  “But you haven’t been in the palace. What’s the first rule? Never leave your bodyguard behind.”

  “I’m sorry, Nic. There wasn’t time to find you.”

  The bodyguard seems to enlarge in his rage, until his broad shoulders threaten to tear the seams in his jacket. “I chased after your car. Maybe you could have glanced in the rearview if you weren’t so distracted.” Nic looks pointedly at me. I can’t help but shrink a little at the blast of anger.

  “Hey,” Damon says. “It’s not her fault.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s yours. What’s the point of hiring me at all if I’m not there to take a bullet for you?”

  “I don’t want you to take a bullet for me. It’s not worth it.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not the one who would have to answer to your father.”

  Damon grins. “You’d never hear the end of it. I guess that would be a little cruel, huh?”

  Both men laugh. Nic cuffs him on the shoulder. “I’ll try to stay out of your way. Just let me do my job. Is that a deal?”

  They shake on it, which turns into a mock arm wrestling contest that Damon wins easily. If I didn’t know that Nic was a bodyguard and Damon a prince, they would look like brothers, or best friends. I realize with a jolt that they might be. If the prince takes private cars and goes everywhere with his protection, how is he supposed to make real friends?

  “Oh,” Nic says, “I forgot about the girl.”

  Damon’s eyes narrow. “What about her?”

  “Varna’s ready to see her. He’s waiting in her room.”

  The prince looks at me. “We shouldn’t keep Varna waiting. But I want to get this secured.” He pats the briefcase. “Nic, could you escort Grace to her room?”

  Nic turns to size me up. “It’s only what I’m best at.”

  I don’t have time to say goodbye before Damon hurries off through the main doors. I grip my bag’s strap. What if I don’t see him again before I leave?

  “Ready?” Nic asks. “Don’t keep the good doctor waiting.”

  I can’t help but gaze after Damon, trying to catch one last glimpse before the doors close.

  “All right.” Nic nudges me hard enough that I stumble forward. “His Highness isn’t going to vanish into thin air.”

  Reluctantly, I let him lead me away from the prince. Nic opens the side door for me, sarcastically waving me through.

  “Thanks,” I say. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Oh no, Missy. I’m at your service until you reach your destination. And you’d better get used to my pretty face, because if you want to keep Damon around, you need to keep me around.” He stops, leaning close and forcing me to really look at him for the first time. I barely hold back a gasp as I see a wicked scar that twists under his eye and across his cheek.

  “That’s right.” He continues marching down the hall. “It’s not all the lollipops and rainbows that you’ve seen so far in the palace. It only takes one moron who’s not a fan of the monarchy for your gravy train to end.”

  “Excuse me?” I refuse to go any farther with a thug who thinks I’m a gold digger. “I’m not in this for anything. In fa
ct, I’m trying to leave.”

  “Uh huh. I’ll believe that when I see it.” The bodyguard lengthens his stride, forcing me to trot to keep up with him. “You may fool everyone else, but you’ll never fool me. I won’t forget your first escapade, Lady Leadfoot, and I’ll be on the lookout for more.” Nic stops in front of my blue door. “Here’s a word of advice. Don’t ever let your guard down, because I’ll be watching. At the first sign of trouble, I’ll make sure your exit is clean and swift.”

  His words make my stomach drop.

  “Ah, Doctor Varna! How good to see you! I’ve brought you your patient.” From the way Nic strolls into the room, one would think that he was just telling jokes about puppies, not threatening me.

  “Are you all right, Grace? You look a little green. Come, sit here.” The doctor pours me a glass of water. I take it, sitting gratefully. My knees are feeling a bit wobbly.

  “She’s had a busy day. Running around with the prince, and leaving me behind to make things more exciting. It must be so annoying to wait for someone who could save your life.”

  Varna looks over his glasses. “Thank you, Nicolai.”

  “You’re welcome, Doctor.” The bodyguard bows. “I need to find my Primary. When I let him wander off, there’s no telling what trouble he’ll get into.” Nic leaves, but not without one last pointed look at me.

  “Relax, Grace. Breathe. Like this.”

  I feel the tension slowly seep from me as Varna guides me in a series of breathing exercises. My shoulders relax, and I almost feel like a person again.

  “You’re going to want to remember those,” Varna says, “especially if you stay at the palace for any length of time.”

  “The palace is fine. I don’t think Nic likes me, though.”

  Varna wraps a cuff around my arm to take my blood pressure. “He means well. But his job is stressful, and the prince doesn’t make it easy for him. A bodyguard likes to keep distractions to a minimum.”

  My throat tightens with the cuff. “That’s all I am to him, a distraction?”