To Steal a Groom (Royal Billionaire Romance) (2 page)

Has he really not seen the ring yet? I hide my hands behind my back, hoping I don’t look suspicious. Damon and I did agree to announce our engagement together, but I don’t want to lie to my best friend.

“Grace? Are you okay?”

I should tell him, shouldn’t I? But he’ll find out soon enough. Biting my lip, I hesitate.

Gabe puts his hands on his hips. “You’re going to take a deep breath, and then you’re going to tell me what’s going on. I lived with you for too long, Grace Sparrow. I know that look of yours. The last time I saw it, you told me you weren’t going to steal a crown.”

Glaring at him, I fight the urge to cross my arms. “I haven’t stolen anything.”

He searches my face, then his eyes flash to the way my hands are hidden behind my back. “But you have, haven’t you?”

Internally, I’m swearing. There’s absolutely no way he could guess…

Gabe wraps his arms around me, squeezing until my spine protests. “You did it, didn’t you? You bagged yourself a prince!”

I laugh as he sets me down on unsteady legs. “I wouldn’t say ‘bagged,’ exactly.”

“I would. But I must correct myself. He was lucky enough to bag you.” Gabe enfolds me in another hug, this one a lot gentler. I pretend not to notice him dabbing his eyes on his sleeve.

“Well.” He steps back, expectant. “Aren’t you going to show me the ring?”

Shyly, I present my hand. He takes it, looking duly impressed by the silver lion chasing its own tail. I wonder if he’s going to ask where the diamond is, or remark on the green tarnish.

He looks up at me. “How did he propose?”

I wasn’t prepared to tell the story so soon. I recount the tale of our trip to the shipwreck, how Damon picked the ring off the seafloor and got on one knee while still underwater. I smile when I remember the look in his eyes as he asked me to be his.

Gabe sighs. “The prince knows how to do things right. Is that why you’re jogging? Are you trying to slim down for your wedding dress? Because if you’re trying to lose more than three pounds, we’re going to have a serious talk.”

I shake my head. “I’m not trying to lose weight.” As much as I love Gabe’s advice, I’m not sure I can bring myself to tell him the real reason. If I revealed to anyone that I couldn’t bear to make love to the most attractive man this city has ever known, I’m sure I’d be laughed out of the palace.

I’m saved from having to make up a completely unconvincing lie by Damon’s housecat. From the corner of my eye, I see Regulus stalking Gabe. Reggie only has a few shrubs for cover, but he uses them well.

Gabe furrows his brow. “What are you looking at?”

I try not to laugh as Reggie swishes his tail. When Gabe turns to look, he pounces.

My friend produces a piercing shriek. I have to forgive him, as over 200 pounds of African lion would frighten anyone.

“Don’t run,” I warn Gabe. “He’ll just think you’re playing.”

However, Gabe is beyond hearing. His legs churn underneath him as he speeds away. Reggie gives him a head start, then sprints after him. The chase is soon over. Reggie sits atop his prize, giving Gabe a thorough washing.

“All right, Reg. That’s enough.” I’m met with a disapproving feline gaze when I pull Gabe from his soggy fate. As I lead Gabe back inside the palace, I see Reggie slink behind a hedge. I could swear that he’s sulking.

“Did you see that?” Gabe gasps. “He tried to kill me!”

“He just thought you wanted to play. He likes you.”

“He’d like to eat me.”

I leave Gabe to his grumblings. Clearly, today won’t be the day that I jog around the palace. If I want to be let into the dining room, I’ll need a shower anyway. Instinctively, I head for the room with the blue door before remembering that I no longer live there. While we were sailing yesterday, Damon had my few belongings moved to his room. I live there now, with him. A smile springs unbidden to my lips.

Last night, Damon wasn’t at all embarrassed to shed his clothes in front of me. I blush as I remember his golden skin and taut muscles, the hungry look in his eyes as he embraced me. How could I let that tension between us fizzle out? As the elevator bears me to the top floor, I decide that I’ll invite him to shower with me. It won’t make up for last night, but I would like to be close to him.

The door to his room is carved with a crowned lion. Running my thumb over its mane, I turn the knob.

“Damon?”

There’s no response. Trying to ignore my sinking heart, I shower as quickly as possible. I see no point lingering here if the prince is gone.

Toweling off, I pick out a turquoise dress. I’m not sure when Damon plans to announce our engagement, but I’d like to look presentable when he does. Taking one more breath in the privacy of the prince’s room, I steel myself for going back under the microscope.

As soon as I step outside, two maids pass with a cartful of towels. Is it my imagination, or are they hiding smiles behind their hands? Exhaling, I do my best to shake off the thought. I’m probably just being paranoid. There’s no way gossip could have already made the rounds.

I decide to get more exercise and take the long spiraling staircase to the main hall. A crowd has gathered outside the dining room, far larger than I would expect at this hour. I hear whispers, and someone points at me. They all turn to stare. My heartbeat speeds.

The crowd parts for me as I approach. I barely notice them anymore. I’m dreading what I’ll find beyond. Pushing through the double doors, I gasp.

“Oh, no. No, no, no.”

2

It’s worse than I feared. The ceiling is festooned with streamers of silver and turquoise. With rising horror, I look down at my dress. Somehow, I’m matching the decorations. It looks like I planned this nightmare. I wonder if it’s possible to sink into the floor, or if I should cut my losses and jump out a low window. What is Damon going to say when he sees all this?

I should have believed Nic when he said that word travels fast here.

A turquoise banner is draped over one end of the hall, an ivory lion rampant at its center. Turning, I find that it’s faced by a matching banner at the other end of the hall. This one shows a bird in flight. I blink, wondering what it’s doing there. There aren’t any birds on the Lion family crest. There are peacocks in the gardens, but this bird isn’t a peacock.

That’s when it hits me. It’s a sparrow.

My eyes well at the realization. Someone went through the trouble to make this, just for me. The palace has felt so foreign at times, and some of its inhabitants were far from welcoming. But I do have champions here. This banner is proof of that. I’m shocked by how good it feels to see that proud little bird, evidence that some here accept me for who I am.

I frown, wondering who could have made such a thing so quickly. I’m sure the Lions don’t keep animal banners in their basement.

There’s a tap on my shoulder. I find Eris behind me, grinning.

“I should have known.” I shake my head.

“Don’t lie. You like it.”

I let my smile speak for itself. Eris was assigned to be my maid, but she’s much better at making dresses. And banners, apparently.

“I’m going to have to take a nap soon,” she says, gesturing toward the banners. “I was up all night working on them.”

“Who could have possibly tipped you off last night?”

Rashad appears at my elbow. “I suspect a certain driver, one who has never seen his clients happier.”

My face heats, and I bury it in my hands.

“I’ve also never seen you wear a ring before,” he continues. “Especially not on your ring finger. The way you kept touching it, it was rather obvious.”

Eris steps in. “Don’t blame Rashad. We have to stay one step ahead of our employers. Now can I see the ring?”

I hold out my hand, and she gazes at it.

“Is it true it’s from a shipwreck? And the prince proposed underwater?”

Looking at Rashad, I narrow my eyes. “Is there any part you haven’t told?”

“Just to Eris.” At least he has the decency to look embarrassed. “You try keeping the juicy details from her.”

Silence descends. I turn to see what’s made everyone so quiet. Damon sweeps into the room, his suit immaculate as always. He takes in the decorations, his face expressionless. I twist my ring around my finger, wondering just how angry he is that our news got out in such an extravagant way.

His eyes meet mine across the room, and his mouth twitches. As he closes the gap between us, a smile forms across his face. It seems that he can’t help it. I laugh with relief as he takes me in his arms. Why did I think the worst of him?

Damon kisses me soundly. “I should have warned you, Grace. News doesn’t stay private for long around here.”

“So I’ve realized.” I think I need to sit down. It’s been a rather exhausting morning.

As if he senses my thoughts, Damon guides me to a chair. “I would have liked to tell Father in person, but it looks like that can’t be helped.”

Rashad clears his throat, looking pointedly at the doorway. The king stands there, frowning as he surveys the new décor.

Beckoning me, Damon strides toward his father. Though I would rather hide under a table, I follow. We stand before the king, Damon clutching my hand.

“Good morning, Father. I’d like to inform you that I’ve asked Grace to marry me.”

Silver confetti rains from the ceiling. The king’s frown only deepens. I have to stifle laughter. In the corner, Eris has her hands on a lever. She looks pleased with herself.

Darius brushes confetti off his shoulder. “So I heard.”

I can’t tell if he’s upset because Damon wasn’t the first to tell him, or because his son has chosen me. Probably both. I try not to sigh. I’m never going to please him. The most I can hope for is that he doesn’t start lecturing us until after breakfast.

“Is there anything you have to say?” Damon asks, a hint of challenge in his voice. It almost sounds like he’s daring his father to question his choice. I wonder if Damon has already thought out various rebuttals. That seems like something he would do. I squeeze his hand, silently telling him that I’m here for him.

The king’s forehead creases. “Sarina spent hours convincing Marc to come back to court. Please don’t mention the crown or other unpleasantness to him.”

I bristle at his words. This is more important than our engagement? Why should I care about Marc’s feelings when he tried to ruin a royal ball?

Before I can say anything, Damon puts a hand on my waist. Darius walks past us, taking his place at the table. The queen glides in his wake, completely ignoring us.

“It’s all right,” Damon murmurs. “We’ll take care of this later.”

I feel a sharp stab of shame. Damon shouldn’t have to reassure me. Why am I so concerned with how I feel? I’m sure Darius’s disdain hurts Damon more than it could ever hurt me. I lay my cheek against his shoulder. I’ll have to comfort him somehow, in a more private place.

We sit at the long table, and I prepare myself for an awkward breakfast. I can only hope that it’s mercifully short. At least our friends are happy for us. A server winks as she sets a plate in front of me, turning so that the king can’t see her smile.

I poke at my poached eggs. It’s not fair that one person’s lack of enthusiasm can sour everything. He shouldn’t have that much power, even if he is a king. I wish he had lectured us instead. At least that way it would have seemed like he cared.

A group of maids bustles into the hall to sweep up the confetti. Two giggle at each other, and the rest hum an upbeat song as they push their brooms. There seems to be an undercurrent of happiness in the palace that the stormy expression on the king’s face can’t stem. I’ll have to be content with that.

The double doors fly open with a bang, making me jump. Ceasing their humming mid-beat, the maids scurry aside. Natalia floats into the room, Marc on her arm. She glances at the decorations, but hides her disgust well. I’m sure she’s imagining setting my banner ablaze. Marc stares straight ahead, as if he’s blind to the colors and strewn confetti.

“Brother!” Breaking free of Natalia’s hold, Marc runs for Damon.

Nic steps forward to block his path, and I silently thank the bodyguard. I wouldn’t put it past Marc to have a knife in his hand.

“It’s okay,” Damon says softly in his bodyguard’s ear. Scowling, Nic stands down in time for Marc to wrap Damon in a tight hug.

“I’m so happy for you, big brother! Congratulations, you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

“Thanks, Marc. That means a lot to me.”

I blink at my soon-to-be brother-in-law, stunned. This was the reception I had hoped for, but I never thought words like that would come out of Marc’s mouth. I wonder if they burned on the way out.

“And Grace!” He turns to me. “Welcome to the family. Can I get a hug from you, too?”

I remain seated, paralyzed with confusion. It was only two days ago that I foiled Marc’s plan to steal a crown that didn’t belong to him, and he told me that he would make me regret it. I have no reason to believe that he’s changed at all since then.

Marc laughs, taking a seat next to Damon. “You have the right idea. No use celebrating on an empty stomach!”

I’m utterly perplexed. Marc could have easily stirred his parents’ rage by pretending to be hurt by my rudeness. Instead, he brushed it off and covered for me. This isn’t the Marc I know at all, and I think I preferred the old one. This charming version seems like it could lull me into a false sense of security.

Natalia perches on the edge of Marc’s chair, throwing her arm around him. “Congratulations, you two. You look very happy together.”

I nod my thanks, trying to focus on my breakfast. Natalia is more cold-blooded than most snakes. I know she’s seething at our engagement, especially since she once tried to marry Damon in a surprise wedding ceremony. Trying to ignore how Marc is feeding Natalia bits of bacon, I turn to my grapefruit. Maybe those two aren’t as bad as I feared. They are royal, after all. If nothing else, they should have learned to be civilized by now.

“You know what I’m going to do for you, Brother?” Marc asks.

I pray that the answer doesn’t involve concealed weapons.