Royally Screwed Part 7

"What, you have charm? Well why didn't you say so? When are you going to whip it out?" she asked tartly.

"You, miss, have a sharp tongue," Sebastian said as he wagged a playful finger at her. "Has anyone ever told you that before?"

"My brother Blaze does likes to say my tongue can cut steel and would make a good garrote. Asks me if I can carve the clay for his sculptures when he's feeling particularly cheeky."

"Well anytime you want to press it against my neck, I'd welcome the torture," he teased in a breathy voice. She rolled her eyes and pushed him in the shoulder. He stepped off the sidewalk and opened his mouth, to comment on her mistreatment of royalty, but was distracted by something up ahead.

He whipped his sungla.s.ses off to get a clearer look and must have liked what he saw. Suddenly he was hurrying up the street, looking back at her like a kid in a candy store. Kat refused to hurry after him and just shook her head as she continued on at her own pace. By the time she caught up he was already hunched close to the ground.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked in awe.

"A bike."

"Not just a bike." Sebastian gave her a scandalized look and she tried hard not to laugh. "Not just a bike. This is The Bike. It's like the Ferrari of bikes. The Mount Everest of bikes. The James Dean of bikes."

She laughed. "Color me impressed."

Sebastian looked at the bike and sighed, running his hand over the leather seat of the 1955 Triumph Trophy. "What a delicious curve. I've always wanted this bike."

"You don't have it? Mr. I'm Filthy Rich?" she questioned lazily.

"It's hard to find. Plus someone usually has to actually restore it. Its cla.s.sic, like the Porsche 550 Spyder. Which I do have."

"Get a lot of use for those topless cars in Sezynia do you? I hear it's such a good, reliable vehicle to have in snow-covered European countries." Kat saw the security cameras pointed right at them and couldn't fight the urge to fidget.

"Didn't we just talk about that sharp tongue?" he asked as he got up from his haunches. "I don't need another demonstration of it." He pulled out a business card and started scrawling something on the back. "Just leaving him my number in case he ever needs someone to take it off of his hands." He placed a period with a flourish that had Kat rolling her eyes and perched it on the bike where it couldn't be missed.

Kat made a grab for his wallet before he could slip it back out of sight. "For someone who decries money, you sure like stealing my wallet," Sebastian murmured in amus.e.m.e.nt. She slipped another one of his business cards out and handed his wallet back.

"This is what your business card says?" she scoffed. Kat crossed her arms and had one raised in the air like a pair of gla.s.ses a librarian was about to look through, down her nose and everything that implied.

"What's wrong with it?"

"All it says is Prince. Is that all you are? Don't you have a job or something?"

"Let's see your business cards then."

"Oh wait, I forgot you don't actually use them for business, do you? Maybe we should call them f.u.c.k Me cards."

"Either way, they succeed in getting me laid." And he had to punctuate that with a cheeky wink that made her want to laugh and punch him all at once. "And only once was it because a girl thought I was actually Prince. Said Raspberry Beret was her favorite song."

"You've got to be kidding me. And you're proud of that?" Kat just shook her head, as if shaking the whole conversation off of her, and started down the street again.

"d.a.m.n straight."

"I don't understand you."

"I'm a guy, what's there to understand? I'm sure your brother acts the same way."

Kat laughed. "Uh, not really."

"So nave. He probably has parades of women sneaking in and out of your apartment when you're not around. And, sorry to break it to you, but he probably lied to each and every one of them to get them there."

"That's what you do?" she asked. "Lie to women to get them to sleep with you. What lie did you tell me?"

"You I charmed. No lies necessary."

She stopped on the sidewalk and Sebastian was a few steps ahead of her before he realized she wasn't beside him. He turned and looked over his shoulder with a quizzical look on his face. "What's wrong? Why have you stopped? Is this where you live?"

"I have this vaguely unsettling feeling that you've been insulting me."

A smarmy grin rose to his face as he opened his mouth to speak but she just shook her head and cut him off. "Yeah, that seals it. I'm not talking to you anymore. Why don't you remember that you asked for my help the next time you think about implying that I'm not important because I don't have a business card or think money's not the most important thing in the world. You know what? I'm not going to help you anymore either. You can't charm everyone into doing whatever you want, Casanova the quicker you learn that, the better off you'll be."

She turned on her heel to leave but hesitated. "Oh, and my brother's gay. And unlike you, I'm pretty d.a.m.ned sure he hasn't had to lie to get laid. Sincerity and talent do that for him."

Chapter 8.

Kat looked at the clock and couldn't stifle a sigh of grat.i.tude. Quitting time. Filling in as bread roll maker at Giovanni's family bakery had seemed like a good idea. Her and Blaze lived paycheck to paycheck and that required multiple paychecks. Of course he'd forgotten to mention how heavy bags of flour were. And how messy the whole process was. And how early bakers got up in the morning.

"I'm out of here guys," Kat yelled.

"Do you have your keycard?"

"Oh yeah, let me grab it."

Kat set her messenger bag down on the counter and riffled through it. Hair ties, Band-Aids, ballpoint pens, her lifeguard whistle, a calculator, her tape recorder. Her hand scratched the bottom, under her wallet and all the ledgers for the PI firm, and pulled out a stack of business cards. "Here you go," she said, slipping the keycard out from between them. "Let me know if you guys ever need another hand."

She made to drop the cards back into her bag, a smile on her face at the thought of getting out of the stifling heat of the bakery, and saw the Prince's spa.r.s.e business card sitting on top. She hadn't thought about him for two weeks. She'd dreamed about him, the warmth of his skin and the warmth of his smile, but that kind of fantasy was best left to the bedroom. She was crazy just for entertaining the thought of trying her hand at matchmaking. She could organize schedules and balance accounting ledgers and teach kids to do the b.r.e.a.s.t.stroke but find royalty a companion? What had she been thinking?

Well, she knew what she had been thinking. Sebastian's cavalier att.i.tude may have been a bit grating but she couldn't deny that he was devastatingly charming, a spark of excitement about him. Fear, adrenaline, worry those she had. Excitement? Never.

The way he looked at her wasn't too shabby either. The petty part of her wanted to flaunt his royal interest, tell everyone she knew that she was on a first name basis with European royalty. She'd been daydreaming about the next time Marco called, wanted to come crawling back after everything he put her through, and maybe she'd be legitimately busy. Maybe she'd be at a gala at the Met or drinking champagne worth a grand or . . . sitting on a couch talking about those hockey scores. Anything so she wouldn't end up back at Marco's side. Didn't Lane keep telling her she deserved better than that? Didn't she?

Kat palmed his business card as she left the bakery. She had memorized the number by now, hard not to the number of times she'd twined it between her fingers replaying their last conversation. Even though Blaze had given her a pitying look when she asked if he'd ever lied to get laid, she knew there wasn't anything she'd have done differently. Part of her almost yearned for it to have turned out different though. It would have been nice to take a royal sojourn from her life, play at being someone important for a while. She could use a vacation from being her.

Kat sighed. Make-believe was not for overworked New Yorkers with brother and boyfriend issues. She dropped the card unceremoniously in an ash tray as she walked out the door. Two weeks was long enough to carry around silly dreams. She wasn't ever going to be seeing that man again.

But the Prince, it seemed, had other ideas. Because there he was in the alley behind the bakery, leaning against the side of a black stretch limo, a single yellow rose in his hand. "I come," he said, quieting her with a look, "bearing gifts." He opened the door, something she couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever done for himself before, and she walked forward to peer into the backseat. A small pink box with a white ribbon sat there.

"What's all this about?" Kat asked, half suspicious, half entertained.

"Well walking down the street didn't turn out as planned so I thought we could give riding a try." It was the wink that sealed it. The half-c.o.c.ked grin had her climbing into the car. She s.n.a.t.c.hed the flower from his hand and brought it up to her face as she did so.

"I haven't seen you for a while," she commented dryly, slipping her fingers across the small polka dotted box. "Engaged to be married yet?"

He lifted her hand from the box, bringing it up to his lips. "Not unless you've changed your mind about marrying me."

"I say I don't want to talk to you again, you counter with a proposal. Didn't you say you were good at diplomatic relations?

Sebastian let out a hearty laugh. His thumb was making lazy circles across her knuckle, a thread of awareness running across her arm and down her spine, slipping all the way to her toes. She s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand away. "How is the search going?"

"Maddeningly boring."

They rode for a few minutes in silence before Kat couldn't handle it any longer and broke it. "I'm still waiting," she said with a slanted look.

"Waiting?" he questioned with curiosity.

"Waiting. For an apology."

"That's what the gifts are for."

"I prefer the words. And daisies, actually."

"Daisies. Really?"

"What? That's hard to believe?"

"I just didn't take you for a daisy girl."

"And what kind of girl did you take me for?"

He considered that for a moment. "Orchids."

"Orchids are very pink."

"And exotic."

It was Kat's turn to laugh. "A foreign dignitary just told me I look exotic. I must be dreaming. I really need to start getting more sleep."

Sebastian slipped a finger under her chin and raised her face to his. "You dreaming about me?" he questioned with a grin. Kat just laughed harder.

"Where are we going?"

"Surprise."

"I hate surprises," she murmured.

"Who hates surprises?"

"Me. Of course you wouldn't though."

"Meaning?" he asked with a raised brow, his arm coming to rest against the back of the seat, just barely grazing her shoulder.

"Well I'm sure your surprises are staying in fancy hotels and visiting interesting places and thoroughbred racehorses or expensive sports cars. When your surprises are more of the poor New York variety water's out because a pipe burst, having to pull extra s.h.i.+fts without warning, getting stiffed with a high check on a blind date then we'll talk about the awesomeness of surprises."

"I'm a surprise, aren't I?"

"I'm still reserving judgment on you, s.e.xy Sezynian that won't apologize."

He picked up the box and placed it into her hands. "With my sincerest apologies."

"And what are you apologizing for?"

"For angering you."

"Hmm," she murmured, "nice evade." She stared at the box as the car came to a stop. "But I wouldn't want to be rude and not open it."

"It really wants you to."

Kat undid the ribbon and opened the box. She was speechless for a moment. "Seriously? What kind of gift is this? This is completely inappropriate."

"I like them," he teased, lifting the pair of lacy red underwear from the box with one finger. "And I did owe you a new pair."

"What you owe me is a s.h.i.+rt," she said, s.n.a.t.c.hing them back from him and stuffing them back where they came.

"You're blus.h.i.+ng." It was true her face perfectly matched the shade of the lingerie.

"If this is your idea of apologizing and gift-giving, it's not a surprise you can't find a wife."

"Come on, let's go," he said.

"Where are we?" she asked, not getting out of the car.

"My place."

She shook her head. "Judging by this, I don't want to see any more of your surprises." Kat leaned forward and knocked on the part.i.tion. "Could you take me home?" she asked the driver who nodded in agreement.

"You're not coming in?" Sebastian asked, incredulous.

"No," Kat laughed. "I'm not. You want to get laid, fine. Go get yourself hitched." She pulled the door closed and rolled down the window. He opened his mouth to speak but she held up a hand. "Stop asking me I'm not going to marry you. I'm not going to sleep with you again either."

"Care to make a bet on that?" he asked with a grin.

"You don't have anything I want."

"I could still use a matchmaker you know. You could change your mind about helping me. Can we talk again?" he asked as the limo started to pull away from the curb.

"Call my social secretary. You seem to have him on speed dial."

"Why do you keep telling him things about me?" Kat asked as she entered the loft. Her boss was sitting on a barstool at the counter and she punched him in the shoulder.