“No, Prince Nosy Pants, I was touring Kaldor. With Kismet gone, the queen suggested I see more of your planet.”
“You’re staying at this hotel?”
“I wish. They’re all booked up. My hovercar broke down. Now there’s an electrical storm approaching.
“It’s already here.” He’d checked the weather before heading for the bar. The thunderstorm raged in full fury. Nobody with any sense would fly a vehicle into an electrical storm. They would take cover immediately.
“How long will the storm last?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Hours, at least. Could be overnight.”
“Great,” she said glumly and took a sip of her mostly untouched drink.
“Whereareyou staying?”
“Haven’t figured it out yet. I was supposed to return to the palace today, but that’s not going to happen.”
He connected the pieces. Disabled hovermobile. Booked hotel. She was stranded during an electrical storm with no lodging.
“I’m probably going to be spending the night in the lobby,” she said.
He cursed silently. The sister of the future queen sleeping in a hotel lobby would cause a huge scandal. If word got out he knew and allowed it, there’d be hekkel to pay. He could use his influence to get the hotel to give her a room, but someone else—likely a noble—would be kicked out of theirs. A bigger scandal.
The king had vowed that if Falkor caused one more incident, he’d find himself stripped of his title and disinherited. His father would never do that because that would also bring disgrace upon the crown, and his mother, the queen, wouldn’t allow it, but his sire would find some other devious punishment—maybe condemn him to delivering speeches for the rest of his life.
He grimaced. “I have a suite. You can stay with me.”
Chapter Three
Kill me now.Karma rode thespeed-risewith the prince.
The breakdown. The lack of lodging. The storm. Stuck with the last man on the entire planet she’d wish to be with.What did I do to deserve this?
It’s only for a night. It’s not like I’ll be stuck with him forever.She tried to put a positive spin on the situation. At least it would bephysicallymore comfortable, anyway. She’d have a sofa in a quiet area in which to bunk down instead of the hard floor in the crowded, noisy hotel lobby. The storm had stranded a lot of travelers, who’d been forced to seek shelter wherever they could find it. She’d been shocked at how many people had crowded into the lobby since she’d first entered the bar.
“Thank you,” she said grudgingly, conscious of the prince’s shadow—his bodyguard.
“You’re welcome,” Falkor bit out.
They exited on the topmost floor. Falkor’s suite was at the end of the hall. The bodyguard went inside first to check it out, while they waited outside.
“Can someone really break in?” she asked. Rooms were secured by identity scanners—she knew from her stay in other hotels.
“Possible? Yes. Highly unlikely? Also, yes.”
Moments later, they got an “all clear,” and they entered, leaving the guard to stand post in the hall. “Good night, Your Highness, Ms. Kennedy.”
“He doesn’t have to stay there all night, does he?” she asked after the door closed.
“That’s his job,” Falkor replied.
“When will he sleep?”
“He’ll be relieved by another in the morning. It’s no different than palace security. Do you think all the guards go to bed every night?”
“Are you in danger?” The people seemed content, the planet peaceful.
“In large, public venues like the convention, it’s better to be safe than sorry. Why? Are you afraid you’ll be caught in the crossfire?
