To Steal a Prince by Cora Caraway Page A

my bedside table.”
    Ugh. I can’t leave him now. He really does need me.
    “What is it?”
    I try to remain calm. “You can’t do that.”
    “Do what?”
    “Leave it in plain sight like that!”
    He chuckles. “No one’s going to steal it. I trust everyone who has access to my room.”
    “Which is exactly how someone could steal it.” I sigh. “Rule number one is that you can’t trust anyone. Haven’t you ever read Machiavelli? He would be perfect for you.”
    “Of course I’ve read Machiavelli. But you can’t take him too seriously. It would be a lonely life if you never trusted anyone.”
    “But you can’t.” The words come out a little angrier than I anticipated.
    “Not even you?”
    “Especially not me. But if you have to trust someone, it should be the person who’s honest enough to tell you that they’re not trustworthy.”
    His mouth quirks at the corner. “I’m not sure if that’s crazy or brilliant.”
    “It can be both. Now, let me help you keep it safe.”
    “You?”
    “I am a thief, you know.”
    “I do. I saw you put the crown back.”
    He might as well have punched me in the stomach. I feel like I can’t get any air into my lungs. Has he really caught me twice now?
    I think I might throw up. “Wait … seriously?”
    “Yes.”
    “Why didn’t you say anything?”
    “I wanted to see what you would do next.”
    The shock waves of his confession still ripple through me as I try to gather myself.
    A sly smile plays on his lips. “You said you would protect the crown. What do you propose?”
    The relief I feel at his question is immeasurable. Nic has nothing on me now. Damon knows that I stole and returned the crown, and he’s not going to throw me out of the palace. Instead, he’s going to take me up on my offer. Turns out he’s smart and sexy, a dangerous combination. But I can’t think about that now. I have work to do.
    “A shell game,” I say. “That’s the answer.”
    “What’s that?”
    I glance around, looking for eavesdroppers. No one’s near, but you can never be too careful. “Can we go somewhere more private?”
    “Sure. I’ll take you to the crown.”
    His hand on the small of my back, he leads me up the main spiral staircase. I feel a small thrill as I realize that he’s taking me to his room. The excitement dulls a bit when I wonder how many women have seen it before me. I try to brush that from my thoughts. I’m not sure if I can entirely trust Nic, but he told me the prince would miss me if I left. That’s what I need to hold onto.
    “Do these stairs never end?” I try not to let on that I’m getting winded, but the winding steps are taking their toll. Outside, the height of the palace is striking. In here, it’s just exhausting.
    “Tired?” Damon’s eyes shine. “Next time we’ll take the elevator.”
    “There’s an elevator? Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “It’s not as impressive. Besides, we’re almost there.”
    “Almost there” feels like it takes about 2,000 steps, but we finally reach the third level.
    “I’m in the South Wing.” The prince lightly steers me in the right direction.
    The carpet is plush under my feet, a nice break from the marble stairs. We walk until we reach a door carved with a crowned lion.
    “Here we are.” Damon swings the door wide.
    The sight takes my breath away. I almost wonder if he’s shown me the wrong place. This whole thing can’t be a room.
    Sunlight streams through wide-open windows. From up here, I can smell a hint of the far-off sea. One wall is covered with a mural of fighting lions, and another showcases a collection of swords in front of a ceiling-high shelf of leather books. And that’s not even the craziest thing.
    “What do you think? Does it meet your standards?”
    “There’s a river in here,” I say stupidly. In my defense, it’s true. It snakes around the room, a few bridges arching over it.
    “There is.” Damon looks bemused. I guess he gets this reaction a lot.