“Not a good idea.” He increased the distance between them, which put him next to a dusty silk flower arrangement, and told her about the prince and the ring, making sure she understood how many holes there were in her original plan. “The prince has a big ego and a small army to go with it. It might take him years to figure out he’s been tricked, or he might already realize it. Best to get her on the first flight out of the city tomorrow. Better yet, fly her out of Milwaukee. It’s not that much farther than O’Hare, and there’s no sense in taking unnecessary chances.”

“I’m not putting her on a plane.”

“You damned sure are. I’m paying.”

She brushed him off. “There are no direct flights, and she’s been traumatized enough. Thunder Bay is right across the border from the North Shore of Minnesota. I’m driving her.”

“Why would you even think of doing that?” he exclaimed.

She looked at him as if he were the lowest worm on the planet. And there it was again. The feeling that he wasn’t man enough to meet some kind of challenge that existed only in her mind.

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” she said.

He huffed and puffed, feeling more and more like a blustering idiot. Finally, he made himself shut up. “Fine!” he said, exactly like a sulky teenager. “Have it your way.”

But even as he stormed out, he knew what he had to do.

10

Her car wouldn’t start! Of all the mornings for this to happen, why did it have to be today? Faiza sat in the passenger seat, clutching her precious passport and darting nervous glances at the cars traveling past Piper’s old condo building. If it weren’t for Coop and his counterfeit Super Bowl ring, Faiza’s employers would almost certainly ignore her defection. Still, Piper couldn’t fault Coop for what he’d done. She’d imagined his celebrity status would be enough to get the prince to hand Faiza over as a gift, but Coop understood wealthy egotists better than she did. A bad miscalculation on her part.

While Faiza gnawed at her bottom lip, Piper poked around under the hood of her Sonata, but it wasn’t until she inspected the fuse box that she saw the problem. A couple of the fuses were missing. Who the hell had—?

A car stopped next to her, window down. “Get in.”

It was Coop, sitting behind the wheel of a silver Audi sedan and looking like the king of the city. “You did this!” she exclaimed. “Where are my fuses?”

“I’ll give ’em back when I’m ready,” he drawled.

He got out of his car and opened the passenger door of her Sonata. “Good morning, Ms.Jamali. I’m driving you ladies to Canada today.”