To Steal a Prince by Cora Caraway Page B

strand of hair behind my ear. “Is there anything . . . else you’d like to do?”
    I freeze. I know what he’s asking, but there’s no way I’m ready for that. I’ll have to pretend not to get his hint.
    “You mean the beach trip? Are you still up for that?”
    Damon smiles. “Anything you want.”
    I’m relieved that he’s not annoyed. I know some men can get pushy when their needs aren’t met.
    “Let me bear you hence, my lady.” Damon surges to the pool’s steps, splashing us with froth. I laugh at his antics, uselessly trying to keep water out of my mouth. True to his word, the prince carries me out of the pool, setting me down on the tile.
    “We need to dry off first if we’re going to fly.” He throws a towel over me, rubbing my shoulders with a gentle caress.
    “We’re going to what?”
    “I forgot that you got here on a cruise ship. Have you never flown before?”
    “No.” I can’t help a shudder from stealing over me.
    “The air is safer than the sea could hope to be. And I’ll be there.” Damon grabs a towel for himself, running it through his hair. The towel covers his eyes for a moment, and I don’t hesitate to sneak another glance at his taut body. I was clinging to that just a moment ago. I hope I don’t look too smug.
    Damon dries his back and stomach while I squeeze water from my hair. I wish I could concentrate on how beautifully his muscles move, but all I can think about is how crazy people are to strap themselves into metal tubes and go hurtling through the sky. We poorer folk may be the more sensible for never setting foot in airplanes.
    “What’s that look?” Damon asks.
    I wrap the towel around my waist. “Do we have to fly?”
    “It makes the trip shorter, and the view is worth a million bucks.”
    “Really?”
    “It had better be. That’s what it’ll cost to see it.”
    I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
    Damon holds his watch up to his lips. “Requesting a bird in T-minus fifteen.”
    A bird? Now I know he’s messing with me.
    His watch beeps. “They’ll be ready soon. Let’s get to the roof.”
    He holds out his hand, but I hesitate.
    “What is it?”
    “Shouldn’t I put on some clothes first?”
    Damon hands me his blazer. “This should do. We’ll be flying low, but it can still get cold.”
    I frown, uncertain. “How many people are going to see me in a bikini between here and the beach?”
    “You think you have it bad?” Damon asks. “I don’t even get to wear a top.”
    Rolling my eyes, I put on the blazer. He’s impossible sometimes. I’m not sure if the blazer is much better. It’s large enough on me that it looks like I’m wearing nothing else.
    “Come on.” Damon grabs my hand. “I can’t wait to show you.”
    His enthusiasm is so infectious that I happily let him pull me onward. Luckily, the hallway is empty. We step inside the elevator, and Damon punches the button labeled R. The doors close, and the elevator whisks us upward.
    This may be my last chance to get out of flying. “Are you sure we shouldn’t drive? I’m not a huge fan of airplanes.”
    A blast of wind greets us as the doors open onto the roof. Surely that will change his mind.
    “All right,” he says. “No planes.” Pressing his hand to my waist, he leads me into the sunlight.
    As my eyes adjust, I see a helicopter ahead. Its blades spin lazily. Damon waves to the pilot and the blades pick up speed. Of course a prince would have a helipad. I should have known. The idea of bouncing around the sky in a metal bubble makes my stomach churn.
    “Excited?” Damon asks.
    That’s one euphemism for it. The noise of the rotors is deafening. I press my hands against my ears. Why did I ever agree to this?
    A man runs over with two headsets. Damon secures one around my ears. The noise dulls instantly, though I can still feel a mechanical pulse in my bones. It’s rather unsettling.
    Damon flicks a microphone to his lips. “Better?”
    I can hear him in my headset.