Saving the Princess by Helena Newbury

Author:Helena Newbury [Newbury, Helena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Foster & Black
Published: 2018-01-27T16:00:00+00:00

We called down for room service and wound up ordering about half the menu: we hadn’t eaten properly in almost two thousand miles. I took a long, hot shower, changed the dressings on the wounds on my legs and then the clothes Caroline ordered arrived. I dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a shirt, and, damn, it felt wonderful. I wandered out of my bedroom to check on the Princess and—

Stopped.

She was just coming out of her room wearing one of those big, white, fluffy hotel bathrobes. Her skin was freshly-scrubbed and gleaming, her hair still damp. She was stripped of her fancy clothes and shoes and tiara and it didn’t matter. She’d have looked like a princess in a sack.

She caught my gaze. Held it. I’d taken three steps towards her before I realized I was moving, called to her by something I couldn’t explain or fight. I finally got my feet under control and stopped just before I reached her. But I still couldn’t look away.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” she said at last. God, that voice, like having every aching muscle in my body caressed by smooth, cool glass. She turned to look out of the window. “New York City. When my father said I had to attend a meeting here, I was so excited. In the end, I didn’t get to see anything except the inside of a limo and a few meeting rooms at the UN. She walked over to the window and put her hand on the glass. “Tomorrow I’ll be back in Lakovia. Even once your FBI catch the assassins, I doubt my father will ever let me come back to America again. It’s too dangerous here.”

I nodded. I couldn’t speak. I’d known this was goodbye but hearing her say it...I’m never going to see her again. I felt...blessed, just having had her in my life, even just for a few short days. I knew that, my whole life, I’d never again know anything this special. And it made me want to do something for her.

“Come with me,” I said.

I took her hand and led her out of the suite and up to the top floor, then hunted around until I found a stairwell that led up to the roof. When we stepped outside, the rain clouds were right overhead. The storm was going to break any second but we were okay for now.

“Do you trust me?” I asked.

She nodded immediately.

“Close your eyes.”

She closed them. I walked behind her, my hands on her shoulders, threading her through the maze of air conditioning ducts, telling her when she needed to step over a pipe. My eyes were locked on her bare calves, where they emerged from beneath the robe.

We reached the edge of the roof. I helped her step up onto the parapet, wrapping an arm around her waist in case she swayed, and then said, “Your Highness: open your eyes.”

She drew in her breath. New York was laid out before her, glittering canyons of skyscrapers with rivers of glowing white flowing between them.

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