by Merry Farmer
“It doesn’t actually belong to us,” he said.
“Hmm?” Emma shook herself out of her heated musings and dragged her eyes up to meet his.
The teasing grin he sent her that said he knew she’d been looking didn’t help her overheated state at all. “The yacht doesn’t technically belong to us,” he went on, moving closer to her with more charm than seriousness in his eyes. “It belongs to Aegiria. We use it for family outings when we can, but most of the time it’s used for diplomatic and charity events.”
“Oh.” That was it. That was all Emma had. Her hands itched to spread across the hard planes of Arne’s chest and stomach. It didn’t help the situation any that she was dying to find out what his skin tasted like.
Arne’s grin widened. “Are you a plunger or an incher?”
She swallowed hard, imagining him both plunging and inching in a horizontal position. At the rate she was going, she’d have to buy Toni a new swimsuit. There was no way she could give what she was wearing back after the way it was getting wet before she even hit the water.
“Do you like to jump in or are you planning to use the ladder?” Arne rephrased his question as though he knew exactly where her thoughts had gone.
“I’d better jump in,” Emma replied, hoarser than she wanted to be. “Where’s the best place to dive?”
“Right over here,” Arne laughed.
She followed him to the sunny side of the yacht, then stepped up to the edge and dove into the sea headfirst before she could embarrass herself more. The cold salt water was exactly the shock she needed, but it didn’t douse the fire that raged inside of her. Especially when Arne dove in after her and swam up to her, looking as natural as a selkie in the water.
“Nice, eh?” he said, treading water near her.
“Just what I needed,” Emma laughed, though he didn’t need to know what exactly she needed.
“Not too cold at all,” Arne went on.
“That must be your Scandinavian definition of not too cold.” She swam a little farther out into the sunshine, then kicked up to float on her back. “I could seriously get used to this.”
Arne stroked out to join her. “I could too,” he said in an entirely different tone.
Emma flinched and stopped floating, but before she could go anywhere, Arne wrapped his arms around her. The sensation of his warm body against hers with the cold water all around them was magical, even if it was a challenge to keep her head above water, in more ways than one.
“You don’t have to go when Fuchsia leaves, do you?” he asked in a low voice. The drops of water sparkling over his head and shoulders in the sunlight gave the moment an unreal feel.
“I don’t want to,” she heard herself saying before she could think about it.
“I’ve never felt a connection with anyone so fast,” he said, pulling her closer. The powerful strokes of his legs were the only thing keeping the two of them from sinking under the lightly rolling waves. “I can’t imagine losing that connection so soon after finding it.”
“I….” She didn’t know what to say. Her heart felt too big and her chest too constricting. Her whole life was constricting. It was awkward and painful to realize suddenly that she wanted something different from what she’d been working so hard to achieve for so long. “We’ll see,” she said at last.
“I suppose that’s better than a flat-out no,” he said.
She started to smile apologetically at him, but he leaned in, slanting his mouth over hers in a kiss that crumbled any sort of resistance she might have had. She kissed him back with closed eyes, wishing that her story could have a fairy-tale ending.
Seconds later, a loud splash and a spray of cold water over them ended the romantic moment as Prince Viggo did a cannonball just feet from them. Emma laughed, and when Viggo popped his head above the water, she splashed him.
“No fair,” Viggo laughed.
“You want to talk about no fair?” Arne laughed back.
The two of them descended into a splashing fight. Moments later, Prince Johannes and Prince Mikael joined in as well. Emma let the fluttering in her heart subside as she played along. Even without the romance, she hadn’t been so happy in years. Playing with princes made her wonder just what her life could be like if she were herself and not Fuchsia.
6
Arne strode through the arena with a spring in his step. It was the day before the concert, and everything was going smoothly, for a change. The workers had redoubled their efforts to convert the arena into concert mode, the acts that would open for Fuchsia had all made it in and had a chance to rehearse with full tech, and Fuchsia herself had been surprisingly accommodating when it came to letting the glitches roll off her back and rehearsing in the middle of the night.
But it was Emma that had him smiling to himself and looking like a fool as he headed from the arena’s parking lot to the backstage area. They’d spent as much time together as possible during the last couple of days. She’s made a big splash with his family, pun intended, that afternoon on the yacht. His mother seemed to love her, and why not? Emma was gracious and beautiful. She had held up her end of the conversation with just about every member of his family, including his mom. The only person who hadn’t been singing her praises by the end of the night was Aunt Marina, but Arne never expected Marina to like anyone unless they came with five noble titles and a net worth of over eight digits.
He smirked, thinking that his aunt could use a lesson in the joys of the real world, as he turned a corner into the vast backstage area. The place was packed with people in costumes that ranged from the glittery and ridiculous to the adorable. The Aegirian Children’s Choir sat waiting right inside the doorway, all dressed in the colorful national costume of the kingdom—bright skirts with a stylized pattern of flowers and waves along the hem for the girls and vests with the same pattern for the boys. Arne stopped and smiled at them.
“You all look magnificent.”
Three dozen beaming faces smiled back at him, complete with giggles and pink cheeks. He hadn’t thought his mood could get any better, but children always brightened his day. Instead of continuing on to find Sven, he hung back with the kids for a moment.
“Are you all having fun?” he asked them.
The giggles increased. A few answered, “Yes, Prince Arne,” which started a ripple effect of yeses and nods.
“What songs are you singing tomorrow?” he asked, taking a seat on a free chair in the middle of the group. He nodded to the cluster of adults who were keeping an eye on the kids.
“Aegiria Mit Hjem!” one boy called out the title of Aegiria’s national anthem.
“Gladjens Blomster!” a girl near him announced.
“Och Jungfrun Hon Gaar I Dansen,” another called from the back.
“America the Beautiful,” yet another said.
“Very good,” Arne praised them, laughing. “I’m sure you’ll all do a grand job.”
“Mr. Glumsted told us to sing out loud so that the queen can hear us,” the girl nearest him said.
“That’s right.” Arne reached out and touched her blonde head. “I’ll be up in the royal balcony listening too. Will you sing out loud for me?”
“Yes. We will,” the children answered.
“Thank you so much.” Arne’s heart swelled. He’d worked with children extensively since bringing his music education initiative into Aegiria’s schools, but something about being around them warmed his heart right down to the cockles. They were the future of his nation, the future of everything he held dear. But for the first time, he caught himself wondering not only what his own children might look like, but what his children with Emma could be like. Not even four days, and he was already daydreaming about a future and a family with the beautiful American.
“Fuchsia!” one of the kids near the end of the group called out, and in an instant, all eyes turned away from Arne to where Fuchsia leaned against the doorway, watching them.
She wore a cobalt blue, glittery
dress with a flared skirt today, and another pair of the six-inch platform shoes Arne had always seen her in. Her hair was piled up in a cloud of bright blue curls, and the fake eyelashes she wore must have been at least two inches long, and possibly made out of peacock feathers.
“Fuchsia, Fuchsia!” It was as if an electric current or an IV of sugar had gone straight through the kids. They jumped up and crowded around the rock star, dragging Arne with them.
“You guys look great,” Fuchsia told them, bending to be closer to their level. “Are you all set to sing?”
“Yes. Mmm hmm. Absolutely,” the kids answered in a cascade.
“I can’t wait to hear you,” she said.
There was something cheery and…familiar about her smile. Arne couldn’t quite put his finger on it. His initial misgivings about hiring a gimmicky, American rock star for such an important concert were proving unfounded, though he couldn’t figure out why. He had an okay feeling about Fuchsia now, even though he’d hardly been around her for more than two seconds. More than okay, he liked her.
She glanced his way and caught him staring. “Well, I need to get going,” she said, quickly straightening, and perhaps looking a little nervous. “Even rock stars have to practice. I can’t wait to hear you guys later.”
“Goodbye, Fuchsia. Goodbye.” The kids all waved and grinned as Fuchsia walked off. She blew them all a kiss, which had the lot of them, girls and boys, smiling and giggling.
“She was very nice,” Arne said, heading back to the chairs with the kids as their chaperones looked on.
“She’s cool,” the girl who had been sitting near him earlier said.
“Oh yeah? Why is she cool?” he asked the group.
“She’s fun,” one of the kids answered.
“She’s a good singer,” another said.
“She wears funny costumes.”
“She’s so sparkly.”
“Her music makes me happy.”
Arne paid attention to the answers, nodding and taking them all in.
“She expresses good values,” one of the adults told him from the back of the group. “A lot of other rock stars get a little too—” She mouthed the word ‘sexy’. “But Fuchsia has always been about chasing your dreams and being yourself.”
“No matter how glittery you are,” the girl who had taken a special fancy to Arne said.
“Is that so?” he asked her.
“Mmm hmm,” she nodded.
“Interesting.” Arne nodded to the woman who’d given her explanation. He searched through the backstage area to see if he could find where Fuchsia had gone. “I guess her costumes aren’t too revealing, when you think about it. They’re more—”
He stopped midsentence. The woman Emma had introduced as Tracy when he’d picked her up for their first date strode into view with a headset on and a clipboard in hand. Arne squinted to make sure it was really her. He would have bet the Aegirian crown jewels that Tracy was one and the same with Fuchsia. It had seemed so obvious to him—from the way she’d been the center of attention at Heathrow to the cagey way Emma had introduced her—that he’d made the assumption and had stuck with it for the past few days. But if Tracy was running around looking, well, normal three minutes after he and the kids had talked to Fuchsia, then Fuchsia had to be someone else.
“Who’s that?” the girl by Arne’s side asked.
“Hmm?” He turned to her, embarrassed at being caught staring at someone by a girl who couldn’t have been older than seven. “She’s a woman who works for Fuchsia.”
“Fuchsia has a lot of people who work for her,” one of the slightly older boys said. “I’ve been watching them all day.”
“Oh yeah?” Arne’s insides gave a little lurch. “Have you seen a woman named Emma?”
The boy shrugged. “I don’t know any of their names, I’ve just been watching how they run around organizing everything.”
“She’s about this tall,” Arne held up his hand, “and has brown hair that she likes to wear in a ponytail.”
The boy tilted his head to the side. “Maybe? I think so?”
“Do you like Emma?” the girl asked.
Arne smiled before he could stop himself. “She’s very nice.”
Several of the kids giggled. A few of the adults raised their eyebrows and exchanged knowing glances. Arne couldn’t bring himself to mind their potential gossip.
“Hey, do you guys want to do me a favor?”
“Yes! Can we, can we?” the children erupted.
“Would you be willing to sing one of your songs for Miss Emma, when I can find her?”
“Yes, yes!” The kids all seemed genuinely excited.
“Thank you so much. I don’t know where she is right now,” Arne went on. “I’m sure she’s really busy working on the concert. But when I do find her, I’ll bring her over to you to sing for her.”
“Your Highness, we’re supposed to be out of here by five o’clock,” one of the chaperones told him in an apologetic tone.
“That gives us plenty of time,” he replied with a nod. “And if I can’t find her by then, we’ll do it some other time.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Since it was already past three, Arne set off in search of Emma. He started by striding across the backstage area to speak to Tracy. At least then he could satisfy his curiosity about who he’d thought she was and kill two birds with one stone.
Tracy saw him coming and turned away from the arena assistant she’d been speaking to with a smile. “Prince Arne,” she greeted him, an awkward look pulling at her mouth. “Am I supposed to curtsy to you?”
“No,” Arne laughed. “But you could do me a favor. I’m looking for Emma, but I haven’t seen her anywhere. Do you know where she is?”
Tracy’s face went pink. “Uh, I think she’s been running errands back and forth between here and the hotel all day?” She added a nervous laugh to the end of her explanation.
Arne frowned. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll see if I can track her down.” He didn’t make a move to leave, though. He studied Tracy, the shape of her nose, her lips. Now that he thought about it, she didn’t have the same features as Fuchsia at all.
“Is there something else I can do for you?” Tracy asked slowly.
Arne shook his head and let out a self-deprecating laugh. “You’ll probably think I’m ridiculous, but this whole time, I assumed you were Fuchsia.”
“Did you?” Tracy’s question came out in an odd squeak.
“I mean, I assume Fuchsia doesn’t go around dressed like that all the time.”
“No.” Tracy let out another nervous laugh, her eyes bright. “Although I do sometimes pretend to be her so that she can take a break, you know.”
“I can guess.”
“I’m not her though.”
“Then who is?”
Tracy’s face went even redder. She pursed her lips as though she had something she really, really wanted to say but couldn’t.
“Okay, look,” she said, leaning toward him and putting a hand on his arm. “Fuchsia has a strict non-disclosure clause in her contract. If anyone finds out her real identity, she breaks her contract and owes the production company five million dollars.”
“Wow.” Arne’s brow shot up. “Is that normal for the music industry?”
Tracy snorted. “It is when you’re Fuchsia.”
Arne could only imagine what that meant. He suddenly felt sorry for the woman, whoever she was. “I guess that explains why she wanted to go back to her hotel and take a nap the other day instead of going on the tour with the rest of you.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Tracy’s face was still beet red. “Hey, I don’t mean to be rude, but you’ve got to excuse me. I have, uh, something I need to do.”
“Sure, no problem.” Arne smiled. “But if you see Emma, tell her I’m looking for her. I have a surprise for her.”
“Okay, sure thing.”
Arne headed off in the opposite direction as Tracy. He’
d spent most of his adult life on the fringes of the music industry, but had kept far, far away from rock music. He was suddenly glad for that. Which made him wonder how happy Emma really was working in that kind of a business. Maybe there was a chance he could convince her to drop that career and find something to do in Aegiria.
“Fuchsia! Fuchsia, I need to talk to you.”
Tracy raced into the wings of the stage where Emma was finishing up discussing the blocking for how she would turn the stage over for the royal wedding announcement with the stage manager. If her brows could have shot up with all the layers of make-up and glitter she wore, they would have.
“What’s the problem, hun? Where’s the fire?” she answered in character.
“I need to speak to you alone,” Tracy said, communicating far more with her look than her words.
Emma smiled at the stage manager. “Excuse me. Rock star stuff.”
The stage manager grinned and nodded at her as Tracy grabbed her arm and dragged her off to a secluded corner.
“Prince Arne is looking for you,” she whispered. “Or rather, he’s looking for Emma.”
“Hmm.” Emma’s heart kicked into high gear. Every bit of the bone-numbing exhaustion she felt after trying to split her time between Fuchsia and the concert and being herself with Arne had been worth it, but it was all beginning to pile up and make her giddy and fuzzy. And after seeing Arne with the children’s choir, the butterflies in her stomach were in overdrive. There was nothing sexier than a man who was good with kids. She’d stood there for a good long while before anyone noticed her. It was obvious Arne adored the kids, and the kids adored him.
“There’s more,” Tracy went on, eyes wide, yanking Emma out of her thoughts. “He was surprised to see me in the same place as you, or rather Fuchsia, because this whole time, he’s thought I was her. Fuchsia, I mean.”