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‘I assume you are the almighty authority on how to break into palaces?’ She raised her brows, sitting straighter in her seat.
‘Seeing as you arrived here first, I disagree,’ he countered.
‘Oh, now I see. You’re angry that you were beaten to the punch by a woman.’ She placed both feet flat on the floor, smoothing her dress over her knees. ‘This whole body-searching, intimidating act has all been one big ego-stroke for you.’
‘I searched you because I am not so pig-headed as to believe that you pose no threat to me simply because of your sex.’ Roman shook his head in disbelief, hating himself for rising to her bait. ‘Why would you assume that the fact you are a woman has anything to do with it?’
She looked away from him then. ‘Because it always does.’
‘I think that’s far more telling of your low opinion of men than anything else.’ He raised his brows. ‘Trust me, I am an expert in assessing risks. Women are not somehow physically destined to surrender to men. I have seen it first-hand. I have trained women, watched them down men twice their size without breaking a sweat.’
‘You train women? To become...thieves?’ she said with disbelief. ‘Who on earth are you?’
Roman laughed, not bothering to correct her assumption. ‘Let’s just say I am the last person you wish to meet while you’re on a job. Not just here, in this castle. Anywhere. I know how the criminal mind works. I have made it my business to be an expert in it.’
‘So if I’m a criminal, you’ll know what I am thinking right now?’ Her eyes darted towards the door once more.
‘I’m trying to.’ Roman poised himself in case she ran. ‘Just tell me what it is you’re after and I can make this easier for you. Tell me your name.’
‘No,’ she said plainly.
Her body language was telling him that she was becoming increasingly more agitated with the situation. A flight risk if ever he’d seen one.
Even as the thought crossed his mind she jumped from the chair, her speed surprising him for a split second before he moved himself. She made it a few steps before his arms were around her waist, holding her body tightly against his as she struggled in vain.
‘Please—just let me go,’ she breathed.
The fear in her voice startle
d him, but his training had taught him not to release anyone until he had another means of restraining them.
‘You are making it very difficult for me to help you here. Do you know that?’ he said, holding her arms tightly to her sides and trying in vain to ignore the delicious scent of vanilla that drifted up from her hair.
‘Why...? Why would you offer to help after what you think of me?’
He thought for a moment. ‘Because I believe in second chances.’ He spoke without thought, his answer surprising even himself. ‘You always have a choice—no matter how impossible it seems.’
A strange look came over her face as their eyes locked. Her breath was coming hard and heavy against his chest but she’d stopped fighting him. Her eyes drifted away from him, settling on the distance with a mixture of resolve and deep sadness.
‘I’m not who you think I am.’
Without warning a heavy weight came down behind him, followed by what he presumed to be a palace guard shouting in furious Catalan.
Roman pushed the man backwards, holding his hands up in what he hoped resembled a peaceful motion.
‘I have authorisation,’ he began, motioning towards the lapel of his suit jacket. ‘The King knows I am here.’
Roman felt his hands being pulled behind him into handcuffs and fought the urge to laugh as he looked up into a second guard’s furious face.
‘You will regret this.’
He grunted at the pressure of a knee between his shoulder blades, knowing that they most likely did not speak a word of English. As his face was crushed against the carpet he looked sideways, just in time to see a pair of dainty bare feet appear by his side. Up close, he could see that a tiny hand-drawn daisy adorned each red-painted toenail.
The woman spoke in rapid-fire Catalan, her voice muted and fearful yet with a strange backbone of authority. The nearest guard nodded, uttering two words that made his body freeze.
‘Si, Princesa.’
Roman crushed his face further into the carpet with disbelief and sheer dread.
