The Outlaw Prince's Captive - Holly Rayner Page 0,7

would be perfectly content to keep her seat belt fastened the whole time.

She flipped open the file on Viggo Lindström.

Laird looked over at her. “Are you going to work the whole time we’re flying?” he asked her.

“Probably,” she said. “It’s a long flight. And we need to be familiar with this information if we’re going to catch Lindström.”

“Yeah, but we can study when we get there,” Laird said. “Let’s talk.”

“Talk?” she asked. “We see each other every day, Laird. What could we possibly have to say to each other right now?”

“Are you excited about going to Konäs?” he asked.

“I’m excited about catching Lindström. We have a job to do.”

“I know,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have any fun. I’ve never been to Sweden.”

“You’re not going to Sweden now,” she pointed out. “Konäs is a separate country. In fact, maybe you should research that while I read about Lindström. Knowing some local history could be helpful.”

“We’re not going to need to know that,” he said.

“We might,” she said. “We might benefit from understanding Konäs traditions, and we’re definitely going to want to be familiar with Konäs law. So just do me a favor and run a few internet searches while I read this file, will you?”

Laird took out his laptop, looking annoyed. “I was going to have a drink,” he grumbled.

“Have one,” Francesca said. “I won’t report you to Voles. But help me research too.”

She turned her attention back to the file. The first pages contained a summary of the hit-and-run—she had reviewed them back at the office. The thumb drive with the video of the accident was still here too. Francesca made a mental note to look at that again later.

For now, though, she wanted to get to know Viggo Lindström a little better.

According to the file, Lindström was twenty-five years old and the younger son of the current King of Konäs. His older brother, Isak, was first in line for the throne.

That’s good, she thought wryly. At least we’re not flying over there to try to arrest the ruler of the country. It could always be worse.

She scanned farther down the page. Perhaps because he was never slated to sit the throne, Lindström had become a business mogul, opening the Friska line of health and wellness stores.

It was strange to think that the owner of Friska was involved in such a heinous crime. Francesca had always gotten such a good vibe in those stores.

I guess you never can tell about some people.

There was a report on the success of Lindström’s business, but Francesca wasn’t interested in that—at least not beyond noting that he was successful. Even if he hadn’t been royalty, he was the kind of person who probably could have afforded to buy his way out of trouble.

Why hadn’t he tried to do that? Why had he made his trouble so much worse by fleeing the country? Had he been so confident that he could get away with what he had done that it just hadn’t mattered?

Francesca couldn’t understand it.

She flipped to the next page in the file.

This was a printout of an article in an online gossip blog. The picture showed Lindström, eyes closed, head tilted back in carefree happiness. On his arm was a slender, well-dressed woman. Francesca thought she recognized her, but she couldn’t put a name to the face until she read the caption. Billionaire playboy prince cuts loose with pop princess Lina Delmonte.

Of course. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t recognized Lina Delmonte. The singer’s most recent hit had just taken the number one spot on the pop charts away from her last hit. She was one of the most famous faces in the world.

I wonder if Lindström is dating her.

“What are you looking at?” Laird asked.

She showed him the paper. “Lina Delmonte,” she said. “I was just wondering whether the two of them are together.”

“That would be something,” Laird said. “We might have to interview her if they are. It would be wild to actually meet Lina Delmonte.”

It would be fun to meet her, Francesca thought. But she couldn’t afford the luxury of getting excited about the idea like Laird could. She had to stay serious. She had to prove that she was competent and capable.

She turned to the next page in the file, this one all about Lindström’s move from Konäs to the United States. Apparently he had made the move only four years ago, hoping to expand his Friska empire, and he’d vastly increase his net worth in