To Steal a Groom (Royal Billionaire Romance) (22 page)

The asphalt is baking. I hurry into the glass building, relieved by the air conditioning. That’s when I see it. It’s on an elevated platform that rotates so I can see every inch of it. With its sleek lines and subtle curves, it looks less like a car and more like a work of art. Painted a burnished bronze, it’s hard to tell that it’s not a sculpture. Only the tires give it away.

I walk closer, hardly daring to breathe. It’s perfect. Damon would love it. The only problem is that it seems to be way out of my price range.

“Do you like what you see?” A man in a crisp suit and tie has appeared by my shoulder.

“How could I not?” As much as I want to be polite, I can’t take my eyes off that beautiful machine.

“Don’t feel bad staring, she’s not shy.” He sticks out a hand. “I’m Roger.”

“Grace.”

We shake.

“I can tell you have good taste. This is our latest model, the Requiem. And let me tell you, she can run. It’s like being pulled by 1,000 of the world’s finest horses.” He pushes a button on the wall, and the platform stops rotating. It sinks into the floor until the car is at our level.

Unable to contain myself, I peer into the windows. The interior is black leather, with bronze accents. It’s stunning.

“The body is a weave of carbon fiber and Kevlar. That means it has a high strength-to-weight ratio while being remarkably resistant to impact and fatigue. The torque—”

“Sorry,” I say, “but I don’t want to hear a list of specs. I want to feel it.”

Roger laughs. “After my own heart, aren’t you? Would you like to take it for a spin?”

“Can we?” I’m itching to get behind the wheel. Legally, of course.

“I don’t see why not.” He hands me a set of keys. “Hop inside.”

The door flies up, like the wing of a massive bird. I step in, the leather molding itself to my contours. I’m tingling with anticipation as I click in my seatbelt.

Roger gets into the passenger seat. I’m a bit disappointed, as I’d prefer to go solo, but I won’t protest. I don’t want to lose my chance to fly.

He hits a button and one wall of the dealership folds away. An open road stretches before me.

I rev the engine, shivering at the deep rumblings. This is going to be good.

“Just to warn you,” Roger says, “she accelerates from zero to 100 kilometers per hour in 2.5 seconds, and tops out around 402 kilometers per hour—250 miles per hour for an American like yourself.”

I grimace. “It’s the accent, isn’t it?”

“That, and the fact that you’re Grace Sparrow.”

I stare at him, openmouthed. “How do you know that?”

“Come on, you’re marrying our prince. My girl keeps me informed of all the royal intrigue.”

“Oh?” I’ve never thought about that before. Where are these stories? In newspapers? Online? I should probably find out.

“Yeah, she nearly went into a period of mourning when the prince got engaged. Guess she’s stuck with me, eh?”

Sitting in the Requiem with Roger, I feel very odd. He’s a stranger to me, but apparently I’m no stranger to him. I wonder just how much he knows about me.

I drum my fingers on the wheel. “What kinds of things are written about me, exactly?”

Roger frowns. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. You don’t have to worry about much here. The City of Lions has strict rules against paparazzi photos and lurid stories. It’s very protective of its royals. That’s not so surprising, seeing as the king makes the rules. Still, you created quite a stir with your engagement.”

“I didn’t know that everyone knew. We never announced it or anything. We only told the palace.”

His smile is sympathetic. “If the palace knows, the city knows. Just so you’re aware.”

I grip the wheel, trying to keep focused. This isn’t the time to wonder whether tomorrow’s papers will be filled with stories of me puking on palace grounds. I need to focus on Damon. And driving.

“Do you still want to test her today?” Roger asks. “If you’d prefer, I can schedule a test drive for another day.”

I answer him by stepping on the gas. The Requiem leaps onto the road with a roar. I give a delighted shout, smoothly accelerating. The road behind the dealership is empty, probably for just this purpose. The Requiem eats the road greedily, churning asphalt under its tires.

Applying the throttle, I let her loose. The field blurs around us, but I’m not afraid. I’ve handled cars like this before, but never one so responsive, so agile. She’s a dream. I put her through her paces, more impressed with every second.

I do want to see what she’s like on city streets. I turn the wheel until my arms cross, and she arcs around, heading back toward the dealership.

“Isn’t this great?” I look over at Roger and find that he’s pressed against the back of his seat, face white and mouth moving like a fish. I press the brakes, and the Requiem stops. “Are you okay?”

“F-fine,” he says. “I just wouldn’t have guessed that you’d drive so … aggressively. Most of my buyers pottered around the parking lot.”

“Oh.” I bite my lip. “Was I not supposed to do that?”

“No, you drove great. No one’s ever driven one of my cars like that.” He clutches his chest. “No one’s ever given me heart palpitations before.”

“I’d like to try her in the city as well,” I say. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all, as long as it’s … slower.”

The engine purrs as I drive into the city. This car is magic. She corners well, and lets me shift fluidly. I’m even enjoying myself at red lights. I could get used to this.

I wind my way through the city, listening to the Requiem hum. People stop on street corners to stare. Beside me, a driver gazes at the Requiem, entranced. He breaks hard, almost smacking into the car in front of him.

I wince. “Does this happen often?”

“I don’t know,” Roger says. “I’ve never taken this car out before.”

“Why not? If I were you, I’d make up any excuse to go for a ride.”

“Yeah, with the others.” Roger runs a finger over the dashboard. “Not this girl. I’m afraid to breathe on her wrong.”

Now he’s making me nervous. “Should we get back to the dealership? I wouldn’t want to wreck the car.”

“It’s up to you. You are the buyer, after all.”

Swinging around, I head back toward the lot. Finding a space in an empty section, I turn the car off. “I want to be honest with you, Roger. I’d like to get this car for the prince as an engagement present, but I don’t have a lot of money right now.”

He nods. “That’s fine, Lady Sparrow. We have a number of payment plans I could go over with you.”

“I was wondering if I could interest you in a trade.”

There’s a flash of worry across his face, like he’s afraid I’ll try to seduce him. “What did you have in mind?”

I take off my diamond ring. “You can have it appraised, but I think you’ll find it a fair trade. That is, of course, if you want it.”

He holds out a hand, and I drop the ring onto his palm for his inspection. Rolling it between his fingers, Roger watches the light play off the stone.

“It’s remarkable,” he says.

“You like it?” My chest is tight. If he doesn’t want the ring, my whole plan goes up in flames.

Roger brings a hand up to his eye. Is he wiping away a tear?

“I was actually planning to propose to my girl next month, but I’ve been putting off buying the ring. Too nervous to go into the shops. But this is perfect. She’s sure to say yes now.”

My heart thumps. “Do we have a deal?”

“We do.” He holds out a hand, and we shake on it. “I suspect we’re both about to make our better halves very happy.”

Grinning, I step from the car. The heat doesn’t even bother me. Nothing could bother me in this moment.

“Oh, Roger, could you do me a favor?”

“For you? Anything.”

“Could you arrange for transport?”

He nods. “Just tell me where and when you want it delivered.”

I give him the details. “Oh, and ask for Rashad at the palace if you need any help.”

“I’ll do that. You take care, now. Great doing business with you.” Roger heads back inside, a spring in his step. I smile at the thought of my ring around his girlfriend’s finger. I hope it finds more happiness there than it has with me.

I drive Nic’s car back to the palace, finding myself annoyed with its lack of power and response. If only I could drive the Requiem home. I could roar up the palace drive, announcing Damon’s gift to everyone.

But no. My way will be better.

Back at the palace, I ask around for Damon. It sounds like he’s retreated to his room, so I head upstairs. I open the door to find him stuffing clothes into a huge suitcase.

I laugh. “What are you doing?”

“Hello, Grace. Back from your secret mission?” He sits on the suitcase, trying to force it closed. “I thought I’d get started on packing.” Damon looks up, concerned. “You still want to go, don’t you? To Turtle Island?”

“Of course I do.” Pressing down on the suitcase, I manage to close the latches. “But are you packing for you, or for twelve of your best friends?”

He looks from me to the suitcase and back. “You think that’s too much? I packed for you, too. Everything you need is in there, along with some things you don’t. I may have gotten a little excited.”

“That’s fine.” I kiss his cheek. “As long as I don’t have to carry that.”

“I’ll carry it. Otherwise, what good am I?” He sweeps me into his arms, kissing me soundly.

“I can think of a whole list of things.” I put my hand against his cheek.

His eyes dart to my diamond-less finger. My heart lurches. I know he said he was fine with me doing what I wanted with it, but was he prepared for this? Will he scream at me, or cry?

“Are you okay?” he asks gently.

“Definitely.” Once again, he’s shown me that with him, I’ll be more than okay. I shift in his arms, and he sets me down. Padding over to my nightstand, I open the drawer. It’s there, shimmering purple in the light. I put the alexandrite pendant around my neck.

“This has good memories,” I tell him as I secure the clasp. “And it’s much prettier than a diamond. Do you remember when you gave it to me, right before you proposed?”

“How could I forget?” He touches the stone between my collarbones, his eyes warm. “I hope you didn’t mind my rambling story. Or having to dive to get your ring. I was so nervous, I’m surprised my heart didn’t beat itself out of my chest.”

“You? Nervous?” He must be joking. “You were a prince. Asking some commoner to marry him.”

He pulls me into his arms. “Not just any commoner.” Damon carries me to bed, and proceeds to show me exactly how mistaken I was.

16

Morning dawns bright and clear as I walk up the gangway. Damon has already hauled up our luggage and stowed it away. I didn’t have to carry any, as promised.

Gabe and Eris have come to see us off. Waves lap the dock near their feet.

Nic shuffles up, carrying a suitcase of his own. “Bye then, Eris.”

“You’re not getting away without a kiss. Come here.” She jumps into his arms, kissing him soundly. The maid doesn’t let him pull away until she’s satisfied.

“Ready, Nic?” Damon calls. “Or would you rather stay on dry land? Feel a bit of seasickness coming on, perhaps?”

“Sorry, love.” Nic sets Eris down. “I have a job to do.” The bodyguard brushes past me, his face beet red.

“Don’t tease him, Damon.” I elbow the prince in the ribs. “He likes her.”

“But that’s why it’s so fun.”

Nic disappears into the bridge, and the gangway retracts into the dock.

“Bye, Grace.” Gabe yells. “Be good. Practice safe sex.”

Now it’s my turn to turn red. At least he didn’t lob a box of condoms at me.

“Have a great time!” Eris waves as the engines groan to life, making the water churn. “See you soon!”

I wave back at them until my arm hurts. They stand on the dock as we pull away, and soon they’re too small to see.

The bow slices through the water, leaving foam and froth in its wake. I lean against a railing, looking out over the glassy green water. The sea is calm today, and I bet if we stopped I could see right down to the bottom.

Damon puts a hand on my waist. “I’m so glad to be here with you. It’s only been days since we were out on the water, but it feels like it’s been forever.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

He pulls me closer. “What are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry if I’ve been distant or weird lately. My parents certainly didn’t help. You met them, I’m sure you can see why they give me little confidence in the institution of marriage. They don’t even like each other anymore, but neither of them will leave the other. Maybe they’ll split now that they’ve gotten something out of me. Who knows though? They’re pathetic.” I inhale, almost overwhelmed by the torrent of my own words.

“Are you sure you want to get married?” Damon asks.

“Yes.” My answer is instant.

“If you were wary because of your parents, what made you change your mind?”

“You did.” I look into his hazel eyes, the color of the sea. I can say it now. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” He gathers me into a hug, picking me up and whirling me around. The salty air stings my cheeks, and I love it. I love him.

Damon makes sure I’m steady on the deck before he lets me go. “I want to marry you,” he says.

“And I want to marry you.” I grin. “I thought we’d already established that.”

“Yes, but I want you to have everything. You’re the girl of my dreams, and I want you to have a dream wedding. I want you to have the perfect dress, the perfect venue, the perfect day, but I don’t know what that looks like to you.”

“Well…” I tap my fingers against the railing. “You’re there. And … that’s it, really. That’s all I need. It’s not like I have family or anything. But I want you to enjoy the day as well. I figured you’d want extravagance, since you’re a prince after all. Something larger than life. You drive fast cars, have private jets and yachts. I thought you’d want to go big and flashy for the wedding, too.”

He folds his hands over mine. “That’s not what I want at all, actually. I’ve been traumatized by big, formal weddings twice now. I’m afraid I’d go weak at the knees if I saw one more gazebo in the gardens. Now that I think of it, everything I need,” he squeezes my hands, “is right here.”