Page 22 of Trapped with the Undercover Prince

The alley didn’t have a train station vibe.

She allowed him to coax her out. “Where are we?” she asked in a soft voice.

“A clothing shop,” he replied. “The clothing in your bag has all been damaged by smoke.” He gestured toward the door, held open by the same guy who’d opened the car door.

She didn’t move. “My clothes are fine. Nothing some soap and water can’t fix.” She looked through the doorway at the interior. The fixtures looked pricey, so the clothing couldn’t be far behind.

“I insist,” Zar said, one corner of his mouth twitching.

What was so funny?

“I don’t think this place will have anything in my style. Plus...I can’t afford it.”

Zar leaned in close. “If I don’t buy you some new clothes,” he whispered in her ear. “Dr. LeBlanc will.”

That had her rearing back. “What?”

Zar shrugged. “He’s determined to thank you with something tangible.”

“Lunch would be fine.”

One of Zar’s eyebrows rose in clear disbelief.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered. “Fine. I’ll let you buy me an outfit.” She stuck a finger in the air. “One outfit.”

“I couldn’t possibly buy you less than five.” He put one hand on the small of her back and all but pushed her through the doorway.

“Huh? Five?”

He nodded.

How on earth had this turned into a negotiation?

“Three, and that’s all I will allow.”

“Three,” he said, inclining his head. “Shall we?” He gestured at the open door.

She went inside.

The floor was polished marble and the fixtures gleaming brass and crystal. She stopped a few steps in and looked around. There were dressed mannequins positioned in small groups throughout the space, but no racks or hangers were anywhere in sight.

“Holy shit,” she breathed out.

“Anna?” Zar asked, ignoring the three shop attendants who were speaking rapid-fire French to him.

It was her turn to lean in to whisper in his ear. “I can’t afford to breathe the air in this place.”

He took her hand and threaded his fingers with hers. “It’s just clothing, Anna.”

“Zar, my usual attire consists of surgical scrubs and cloth booties over my sneakers.”

“You are a doctor?” one of the shop girls asked in accented English.

Anna looked at her and nodded.

Zar replied in French, and all three looked at her with respect mingled with awe.

“I saw you on the news this morning,” the girl said, looking her up and down. “What are you shopping for?”

---