To Steal a Groom (Royal Billionaire Romance) (8 page)

What? He never made that offer to us! And they want to get married before us as well? Damon lays a hand on mine as I silently seethe.

“That would be lovely, Your Majesty.” Natalia sinks into a low curtsy. “I’ll alert the Duke and Duchess of Andova as soon as possible.”

“Do so with our blessing,” Darius says. “We understand if you need to forgo brunch to make arrangements.”

Natalia gazes into Marc’s eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of missing brunch with my future family.”

I can’t take this anymore. I push out my chair, not bothering to silence its squeals. Without a word, I stride for the exit. I know it’s horribly rude to leave without a formal farewell, but I’m afraid of what could come out of my mouth if I open it.

“Grace!” Damon calls after me.

“Oh dear. Is she unwell?” Natalia’s voice echoes after me.

Through the fog in my head, I hear the double doors close far away. Are Marc and Natalia intentionally trying to steal our thunder? I’m surprised I care at all.

“What are you doing?” Damon takes my arm, steering me somewhere. “You can’t just walk away from monarchs.”

“Looks like I just did.”

Damon pushes open a door, and I’m hit with a blast of fresh air. It burns my lungs as I breathe it in. It feels good.

“Please, you can’t act like this anymore. Disrespect is one of the cardinal sins among royalty.” He guides me to a bench near his mother’s roses. “No matter how upset someone makes you, you can’t show it. Especially not in the palace. It just isn’t proper.”

Furiously, I wipe my eyes. “I’m not a robot, Damon. I’m sorry I can’t hide how much this hurts me. And I didn’t think it would hurt this much, but it does. I want you more than anything, but it would be nice to have a family too.

“For the longest time I’ve had no one, besides Gabe. As much as I want your parents to like me, it seems that’s not going to happen. I would be okay with that, except they scorn me one day and welcome Natalia the next. I’m just tired of feeling unwanted.”

Damon kneels beside me. “I want you, Grace. In the end, isn’t that all that really matters?”

“You’re getting your pants dirty.” I sniff, feeling ridiculous. My eyes must be red, my face puffy. Damon is sure to think twice about marrying me based on that alone.

“Then I’ll clean them with your tears.” He lends me a handkerchief.

I dab my eyes. “Sorry. My dad always told me I look ugly when I cry.”

“Then I’ll have to have a few words with him.” Damon kisses my cheek. “You’re always beautiful.”

Does he want me to ruin his handkerchief? I let everything out, though half my tears are happy now. Will I ever deserve him?

I lean my head into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry. This hasn’t been the best day.”

He folds his warm hands over mine. “What can I do to help?”

“Could you try talking some sense into your brother?”

“This is Marc, remember.” Damon sighs. “In fact, knowing him, I doubt this was his idea at all.”

I sink to the ground next to him. “What do you mean?”

“Rushed wedding, random royal groom. This has Natalia written all over it.”

“You think so?”

Damon studies my expression carefully. “I shouldn’t have said that, should I?”

“No, this is great!” I rise to pace over the gravel path. “We sort of bonded at the party last night. I think I really misjudged her.”

The prince raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Once a person tries to surprise you with a wedding when you had never spoken of marriage, you tend not to trust them again.”

“Come on.” I cuff his shoulder lightly. “Did you see the way she was hanging on Marc? I think she’s over you.”

“If you say so.”

I try not to roll my eyes. Sure, Damon was one of the world’s most eligible bachelors; who wouldn’t want to marry a handsome prince? But that doesn’t mean that all of his past love interests will forever pine for him.

I hold out a hand to pull him to his feet. “Let me talk to her.”

“If you think that’s … wise, I won’t stop you.”

“I’ll get everything sorted out. You’ll see.”

Arm in arm, we head back toward the dining room. The doors stand open, and inside servants bustle to clear the tables.

“There.” Damon points to the spiral stair. “Marc!”

His brother turns. “What is it? Everything all right?”

“Grace wondered if she could have a word with Natalia.”

Marc looks toward the front doors. “She just left.”

“For Andova?” My heart sinks. Once she gets her parents involved, it’ll be hard to convince her to alter her plans.

“No. She’s renting a villa in the city. I can take you there if you’d like.”

I study Damon’s half-brother for a long moment. For all his charm, I still don’t entirely trust him. “Just the address will be fine.”

*

It takes some convincing, but eventually Damon relents and lets me borrow a car. After even more cajoling, he lets me go alone. I don’t think he trusts that I can be unfailingly polite unsupervised. Really, he has nothing to worry about. Natalia and I might not be best friends, but we certainly aren’t enemies anymore.

Painstakingly, I crawl out of the garage. I don’t want to so much as scuff a Lion car after what I did to the last one. Damon waves me off as I drive through the front gate.

It’s time to face Natalia.

6

The car purrs as I turn onto Fief Street. I peer out the window, hunting for Number 18. It doesn’t help that every villa on this street looks identical, right down to the high gates and the guardhouses. I drum my fingers against the wheel. There’s no need to be nervous. I just need to talk to Natalia, that’s all, and tell her it’s nothing personal, I’m simply impatient to be Damon’s wife. Surely she’ll understand.

At last, I find the right villa. The golden 18 on the gate reflects the sun into my eyes, almost blinding me. As I pull up to the guardhouse, I notice that the man on duty holds the leash of a formidable dog. Its ears flatten as I approach. Even the Lions don’t have guard dogs, at least that I know of. Who is Natalia trying to keep out?

The guard knocks on my window, and I roll it down halfway.

“Please state your name and business.”

I clear my throat. “Grace Sparrow. I’m here to speak with Natalia Fa.”

He checks his clipboard. “Yes, she’s expecting you. Right this way.” The gate slides open, and he ushers me forward.

Once I pull through, the gate shuts swiftly after me. I make my way down the long drive, noting the cameras that mark my progress. I’m not sure it would be possible to sneak into a place like this. I laugh, shaking my head. Even a month ago, such a thought never would have crossed my mind. The old me would already be plotting and planning multiple strategies, weighing the risks and rewards of each.

I struggle to look at the grounds with a professional eye, map out a way to dodge the cameras. It’s exhausting, and I’m wasting my energy. I need to talk to Natalia, not rob her. I’m going to need to be diplomatic. Ruefully, I turn my thoughts from cameras and possible floor plans. My skills were hard-won and I don’t want them going rusty, but I have a new life now. From now on, I’ll need to solve my problems by talking with people in the light of day, not by stealing from them under the cover of night.

The villa at the end of the drive is massive. Columns support three stories, though they’re so thin I’m surprised they aren’t sagging under the weight. The roof is the same red clay that dominates the city. I park next to the fountain, squinting to see the figure that tops it. I make out Cupid, his arrow pointed at my heart and his expression vaguely menacing.

A little unnerved, I head to the door. It swings open before I can knock.

“Grace!” Natalia exclaims. “Fancy seeing you here!”

The guard did say that I was expected, didn’t he? Or was he mistaken? Two seconds in and I’m already off-kilter. This isn’t a good start.

“May I come in?”

“Of course. Make yourself at home.” She lets me in, closing the door behind me.

I step into the foyer. At first, the rush of cold air is welcome, a relief from the high summer sun. But as the heat from my skin is leeched away, I realize that it’s absolutely frigid in here. I feel like I should be wearing a down jacket.

“People always complain that I keep it too cool in here,” Natalia says, “but I won’t apologize. This blasted city is always hot as blazes. They should thank me. I probably just lowered the temperature two degrees by opening the front door.”

“I don’t mind the cold.” Though I do wonder why she wants to marry a prince of Lions if she can’t stand the climate.

“Would you like anything to drink? I would have to get it for you myself.”

“You don’t have any servants?” I look around, noticing the immense silence of the house. Now that I’ve lived in the palace for a bit, it’s strange that no one else is around, adding noise and life to the scores of rooms.

“Never. I don’t like the idea of servants.”

“Neither do I.” It’s a relief to finally say it. “I don’t like making people wait on me, or having them perform tasks that I can do myself. I know they’re paid good money at the palace, but I feel like they’ll resent me.”

“You should send yours away.” Natalia pours herself a glass of champagne, neglecting to offer one to me. “They’re forever pawing through your belongings, looking out for things to steal. They enjoy eavesdropping, and you never know who they could sell that information to. You can’t trust any of them.”

“Oh.” I can’t imagine Eris doing any of those things. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You should, at least if you value your sanity. I enjoyed the help when I was young, but I no longer have the time or patience to keep an eye on them.”

“Mmm.” I try to make a noise that’s as noncommittal as possible. I guess Natalia isn’t the person I can trust to help me unload my conflicted feelings about servants.

“Anyway, what brings you here? Is it trouble with Damon? I can speak with him for you. Our fathers are close, so I’ve known him most of my life.”

I should probably move the conversation away from something as charged as which of us knows the prince better. “Damon’s fine. We both wanted to congratulate you and Marc again.”

“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you. How gracious of you to share the spotlight.” She takes a sip of her champagne.

“Actually, I’d like to discuss that with you.”

“You know what I’d like to discuss? The security. What do you think?”

I can only blink at her. “The what?”

“Come on, you’re supposed to be the expert. The guards, the dogs, the cameras. What do you think? Would a thief be able to break in here, in your professional opinion?”

“I really wouldn’t know.”

“Oh, Grace, it’s not all that different from stealing a car, is it?”

I sigh. I guess that would get back to Natalia sooner or later. “I’m out of the business, unfortunately. You’ll have to get someone else to advise you.”

“Would it keep you out?” She pierces me with her gaze.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Fair enough.” Sinking onto a chaise lounge, she seems to uncoil. “I rented this place for the security, though I can’t fathom why anyone would break into a dump like this.”

I look around the room, with its vaulted ceilings and leather furnishings. I’d like to know what kind of place wouldn’t make Natalia turn up her nose. Would anything less than a palace suffice?

“And I have one more security feature.” Natalia claps her hands, making me start. “Booboo!” she calls. Her shrill voice echoes off the walls. I hear the soft clicking of nails on tile.

A tiny head peeks around a corner.

“There you are. Come here, Booboo.”

The dog, an Italian greyhound from the look of it, doesn’t budge.

Natalia leans forward. “Come.”

Booboo crouches down.

“He doesn’t like people. Isn’t that right, Booboo?”

He growls low in his throat.

“I got him from the finest breeder in Milan. I’ve trained him to attack on command. Attack, Booboo!”

The dog cowers, snarling at her.

“Don’t growl at me, you ungrateful cur.” Natalia raises her champagne flute as if preparing to throw it. “Get out if you can’t behave.”

Booboo bares his teeth, but skitters away. Though not intimidating by stature, I wouldn’t put it past him to snap and go for someone’s jugular. Living with Natalia doesn’t seem to be a picnic.

Natalia sighs dramatically. “Useless mutt. I should have gone with my instincts and gotten a tiger.” Raising her glass to her lips, she drains the contents. “Would you like a tour?”

It would probably be rude to refuse, so I let her lead me through the villa with its rambling rooms, silk hangings, and wide windows. For someone who seemed to disdain the villa, she has an awful lot of stories about where the marble countertops were quarried, how the owner’s niece is married to a count, and how one of the neighbors hosted a reality show in Sweden.

I search for a clock, wondering how long this tour is going to last. It feels like hours since we started, and we’ve only reached the second floor. Though I don’t want to alienate Natalia, I came here to discuss something important.

“This,” she says, opening a pair of French doors, “is my favorite room.”

She ushers me in, so I grudgingly step inside. “I can see why. That balcony is beautiful. You must get a nice breeze in here.” I hope my small talk isn’t as awkward as it sounds to me.

“It’s nice enough. But the best feature of this room is the computer.”

I glance at the desk. The computer is a sleek model with a wide screen. I didn’t really picture Natalia as a computer person. I’m going to need to cut this conversation short before she starts spouting off about how great the motherboard is and how the monitor once belonged to Charlemagne.

“Look, Natalia, I really enjoyed the tour, but I can’t stay much longer. It was great talking with you at the party last night, and I wondered if I could discuss something with you now.”

“What is it?” She bats her eyelashes at me.

“Like I said, Damon and I couldn’t be happier that you and Marc have gotten engaged.”

Natalia pulls out a fan, lazily airing herself. “And let me guess, you want me to push our wedding back so you can have the spotlight.”