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“Can’t wait,” Isabelle said drily.
But she smiled, lest the sarcasm be sensed.
After she was blissfully alone, she closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. Moments of silence were few and far between, so she’d enjoy it while it lasted.
Thunder crashed behind her, making her jump. She’d only been in Maine for a few hours, but the whole time she’d been here, it had been pouring. Legit pouring. The lights flickered briefly but came back to life. Thank God.
Sighing, she checked her watch for the tenth time and waited for the person currently occupying the women’s restroom to open the stinking door. She tapped a red Louboutin clad foot on the floor. If this woman didn’t pee quicker, her bladder would explode. Another boom of thunder shook the building. Within seconds, the lights went out. No flickering. No warning. Just pure blackness.
She froze. Well, bonkers. Now what? Something, or someone, moved behind her. Her heart hammered in her ears. A low, masculine chuckle sounded. She whirled on a heel, her hand brushing against a warm body as she did so.
When arms closed around her, her heart sped up even more. She tried to yank free, but the man didn’t release her. Oh no, what if this was all a ploy to kidnap her and ransom her off to her parents, piece by piece? What if—?
“Whoa, there,” the man slurred, sounding completely drunk or high…or both. “What do I have here?”
This is what her parents had warned her about. She’d instructed her guard to stand by the front entrance, since it was the only one, and they’d already scoped out the place and approved the inhabitants as “worthy” enough to be in the same room with her.
And, darn it, she’d wanted to pee in peace.
Princesses don’t go in dark alleys or hallways alone. Princesses don’t leave their guard. Princesses don’t assume they’re safe. That’s what they’d told her all her life. She’d rolled her eyes and done exactly the opposite, because why not?
Well, she should have listened.
“Hey, there.” She used the cultured American accent she’d been practicing for a year now, for situations such as this. The lessons had seemed stupid at the time, but now they made perfect sense. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh yeah?” His hands roamed lower, over her hips. “Well, I’m not.”
She stiffened. “Unhand me now.”
“Unhand you?” The man holding her said, the words slurring together into one long one. He snorted and didn’t let go. “You crashed into me, lady.”
“It was an accident I assure you,” she said quickly. “Please release me.”
As she waited for him to obey, she calculated his weakest attack point. Maybe an elbow to the windpipe would be her best move. She’d need to catch him off guard and take him down, so she could run as fast as she could back to the crowds.
“Or you wanted a guy to catch you before you fell.” The man lowered his face way too close to hers. “Girls like that chivalrous shit.”
“Not this one.” Isabelle scrambled for something to say. Something to get this guy to let go of her, without giving away the fact that she was a princess. “My…my boyfriend is here. My big, muscular boyfriend.” She shoved his chest, but he didn’t budge. Okay. She might need more than a well-placed elbow to throw this guy off his game. “He’ll knock you out if you don’t let go of me. He’ll…he’ll take you down. So you better—”
The man snorted again, and his breath washed over her. He smelled like a bottle of cheap tequila. No, scratch that. Two bottles of cheap tequila. “I’d like to see him try.”
Isabelle sucked in a deep breath, acutely aware of how much bigger the man was than her. Why wasn’t he releasing her? She tried to wiggle free, but he didn’t budge. “Just let me go.”
“Say please, and maybe I will.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I won’t beg. I don’t beg.”
The man held on to her even tighter, his fingers digging into her arms. She flinched at the pain he caused. “You need to learn some—”
“The lady asked you to let her go,” a hard male voice said from somewhere behind them. It sounded vaguely familiar. “I suggest you do so, before I’m forced to make you.”
The first man let go of her instantly. “I wasn’t causing any trouble with your girl, man. She was just—”
“Leave, now, before I change my mind,” the second man advised, not bothering to correct the other man’s misconception about them being an item. He moved closer after the warning. Isabelle couldn’t see him, but she could feel him. “One. Two. Thr—”
“Okay, okay.” The rude man backed off. “I’m going.”
After the man left, Isabelle collapsed against the wall, her heart thudding against her ribcage. “Th-Thank you for that.”
