Page 22 of It Takes a Thief
“Thank you, Linc,” she whispers.
“We should call your parents. Fill them in on the latest.”
“Oh, no, please. I don’t want them to worry. And if they know what happened, they’ll demand I return straight home.”
“Maybe that would be safest.”
“I feel safest with you,” she says quickly.
Going back to Arcadia might be the best alternative, but the selfish bastard in me wants to keep her here, within my sightand under my protection. If she went home, I’d be relieved of my bodyguard duties, and she’d promptly be put under royal guard.
But what if that isn’t enough? What if this is an inside job?
No, the best thing is to remain with her. The palace may have guards, but they won’t watch her like I will. From this point forward, Merritt isn’t leaving my sight.
“For now, we’ll stay in New York,” I tell her, “but I need to know more about your life. Let’s start with a list of your friends, family and every ex.”
“Ex?” she echoes.
“Ex-boyfriends,” I clarify, opening the notes section in my phone. I really don’t want to hear the endless list, but it’s part of the job. A job I don’t think either of us was taking very seriously until tonight. “I assume Jeffrey is at the top.”
“I never dated Jeffrey. He’s just a family friend.”
Good. I put his name under the friend’s column where it belongs. Hell, I don’t even like it there. Merritt mentions Charity, her best friend here, but that’s it.
“Who else?” I ask.
“Um, well there’s Rose. And, um, Leo and Chef Louis…Elsa.”
“Who’s Elsa?”
“She works in the kitchen back home. They’ve been with my family forever. They’re like my second grandparents.”
I nod, deciding they probably aren’t high on the suspect list.
“Princess Rose has her own kingdom, so I’m not overly concerned about her,” I say. “And the others are hired help. I’m talkingfriends. People you hang out with.”
“Except for Charity, I don’t have any other close friends,” she admits quietly. “Pathetic, I know.”
For the first time, it hits me why she’s happier here. There’s freedom, opportunities and possibilities. Being stuck on an island in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea doesn’t provide many options when it comes to expanding her social circle. And the fact that she’s royalty probably makes her an intimidating figure. Not exactly someone you’d call up to go out and party and do questionable things when she brings along a royal guard who reports back to the king.
“What about family?” I ask gently.
“It’s just me, my mom and my dad.”
“Tell me more about Arcadia. How long has your family ruled?”
“For hundreds of years. Technically, it’s the Principality of Arcadia. We’re closely linked to France but, at the same time, completely independent.”
“How does the whole royal thing work?”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“What if you marry a commoner? Does he become a prince?” I’m looking for motives.
Her mouth edges up. “No. Marrying into the royal family doesn’t put you in the line of succession. Whoever becomes my husband would be known as the Prince Consort.”
“That kind of sounds like the same thing to me,” I say. Especially if some asshole is eager to get his hands on that kind of prestige and all the perks that come with marrying into royalty. “Does your family have any known enemies?”
