The Journalist's Prince

by Merry Farmer

  “Maybe if I talked to her,” Alek began warily.

  “Have you ever known Mother to change her mind once she puts her foot down?” Johan asked.

  “No,” the other four answered in unison.

  “Then it looks like there won’t be a royal wedding today,” Kristoff said with a disappointed shrug.

  “The press is going to have a field day with this,” Mack sighed, rubbing his face.

  “And ultimately, Lindqvist or Marina or whoever else is involved will get everything they’ve been after from the start,” Alek grumbled.

  “Not necessarily,” Tracy said. The princes all looked at her. She shifted her stance and explained. “Somebody—Lindqvist, Marina, whoever—has been going to extreme lengths to stop this wedding. Either Marina is missing because she’s in a huff somewhere—which I agree isn’t likely—or because she thinks this will be the final straw, the way the wedding is finally stopped.”

  “So what do we do about it?” Johan asked. He itched to find a solution and put the whole thing to rest once and for all.

  Tracy glanced around at them. “If everyone thinks the wedding has taken place, then Marina will come out of hiding, either to pretend nothing was wrong or to make another dramatic apology, like last week.”

  “What do you mean ‘if everyone thinks the wedding has taken place?’” Alek asked.

  “I mean, we wait out here for as long as it would have taken for a wedding to be officiated, then we go back to land and have a reception.”

  “What good would that to?” Kristoff asked.

  Johan crossed his arms and studied Tracy, eager to know himself.

  “It would make Marina think she’d lost, if her aim in disappearing is still to stop the wedding,” Tracy explained.

  “And if that isn’t her aim?” Arne asked. “If she’s not here for another reason, like being in trouble?”

  “Then at least the people of Aegiria will be calm and relaxed, thinking that nothing is out of the ordinary, while the rest of us get to the bottom of things.”

  “So let me just get this straight,” Johan said, facing Tracy squarely. “Since Mother won’t go through with the wedding unless Aunt Marina is here, you propose we fake the wedding and go straight to the reception.”

  “Yes. So that we buy ourselves time to figure out what’s really going on behind the scenes instead of whipping the whole country into a frenzy by announcing the wedding is called off,” Tracy answered.

  Johan stared at her, debating whether it was a good plan. Something was wrong, that was certain. He’d let his guard down too much where his aunt was concerned since she’d been quiet in the last week, and he was beginning to regret it. She was missing, yes, but he didn’t think for a second that she was in trouble. Since he didn’t have any better ideas, maybe pretending everything had gone smoothly really was the best way to flush her out.

  “I’m game for it if Mother is,” he said at last.

  He glanced to his brothers. They shared looks that ranged from doubtful to enthusiastic.

  Alek opened his mouth, but it was their mother, standing behind them, who said, “I’ll do it.” They all turned to stare at her. Dr. Hayes stood by her side, still holding her hand. She shrugged. “I won’t be married without my sister by my side, but that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to pretend everything has happened just as it should. Especially if that will convince Marina to stop whatever childish game she’s playing and come to terms with the fact that this wedding will happen.”

  “Ah, Poopsy,” Dr. Hayes said, clearly touched by her words and deeply in love. “Then we could have our own private ceremony later, just like we wanted in the first place.”

  “You see, my dearest,” the queen smiled at him. “I told you we’d have our way in the end.”

  The two melded together as if they had magnets in their lips, humming and making sounds that left Johan feeling green around the gills as he glanced in the other direction. Oddly enough, though, the display made him feel as though things might finally get back to normal.

  “All right,” Alek said, then cleared his throat. “Let’s get our story straight and then head back to shore.”

  “I’ll call the broadcast team back on land and tell them there’s a serious problem with the feed and that we won’t be able to broadcast live or get any video of the wedding after all,” Tracy volunteered.

  “Good idea,” Johan said. “Mother, would you be willing to stage a few still pics to help with proof that the ceremony happened?”

  “Yes, dear,” she answered, still gazing adoringly at Dr. Hayes.

  “Then let’s get moving,” Alek said.

  The cluster broke up. Alek moved to speak to the queen, and the rest of Johan’s brothers went off in search of their girlfriends. Johan stayed right where he was with Tracy.

  “Good luck making that call to tell all of Aegiria they don’t get to watch their monarch get married,” he said with a smirk.

  “I can handle it,” Tracy said with a sassy look in return. She pulled her phone from her pocket. “I’m good at handling a crisis and getting to the bottom of things, remember?”

  “Of course I do.” Johan slid closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “That’s what drew me to you in the first place.”

  “Is that what it was?” She flashed him a smile that sent his heart soaring. More than anything, he wanted to kiss her. But there were things to do first.

  He settled for giving her a squeeze then letting her go. “Make that call, and then we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  2

  Eight Weeks Earlier….

  Tracy’s heart hammered like thunder against her ribs as the crowd in Aegiria’s massive arena burst into cheers and applause.

  “Okay, Aegiria. Let’s congratulate Queen Viktoria and Dr. Hayes with a song,” Emma, as Fuchsia, called to the crowd as her band blasted into one of Fuchsia’s top hits. Prince Arne had joined her on stage. The two had been caught kissing, but now he’d shuffled back to the side of the stage to watch the show.

  Tracy leaned back against the wall in the stage wings, letting out a breath. Thank God the power had come back and the lights had turned on. Emma had been doing the best she could out there, but Tracy wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep it up. She hadn’t felt so nervous about how things might turn out herself since her father’s mess when she was a kid. It looked as though now everything would be okay.

  “I’m gonna kill her.”

  Tracy stood straight at the sound of Hoss’s growl.

  “I’m gonna wring her neck,” Hoss went on, stomping to the wings. He spotted Tracy and narrowed his eyes. “Did you have anything to do with this? I know you two are thick as thieves.”

  “To do with what? The power going out?” Tracy asked, dripping with loathing for Fuchsia’s garish manager.

  “With her going out there like that,” Hoss spat.

  “She didn’t have any other choice. All her costumes and make-up were destroyed.”

  “I’ll have her head for this.” Hoss went on, turning to glare at Emma as she performed.

  “It wasn’t Emma’s fault,” Tracy said, stepping toward him.

  Hoss turned to her, looking down his fat nose at her like she was a bug, and said, “You’re fired.”

  “What? You can’t fire me. I work for Emma.”

  “And she works for me, though not for much longer. You’re fired,” Hoss repeated.

  Tracy’s jaw dropped. Indignation twisted up her spine, making her hands numb and her heart pound all over again. She hated being blamed for something that wasn’t her fault. It hit way too close to home and the tattered shreds of her childhood.

  She did the one thing she knew would chase off the feeling of being a victim. She took control of the situation. With a huff and a shake of her head, she said, “Whatever,” marching away from the jerk. She was a journalist before she was a rock star’s assistant. She had skills she could use. Marketable skills. It was about time she
put those skills to use.

  She wound her way through equipment and debris left over from the destruction of the stage to leave the backstage area, but instead of leaving the arena entirely, she paused, glancing up and down the hall, and wondering how someone would be able to cut the power to an entire stadium.

  She set off in the direction of the electrical room she must have passed a dozen times in the past few days of rehearsals without paying attention to it. If there was some sort of main circuit to cut power to the entire arena, it would be either there or outside. If there were any clues about who had done the damage, they would be—

  Her thoughts were cut short as she rounded a corner and ran smack into a broad, hard chest. She let out an uff as both she and the guy were thrown off balance. Before she could fall over, a pair of strong arms closed around her, steadying her. She glanced up and into the most gorgeous pair of blue-grey eyes she’d ever seen.

  “Careful,” the guy said, taking a half step back as she regained her balance and straightened. She kinda wished he would stay right where he was, up close and personal. He smelled like lemons and spice. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. How ’bout you?” She sent him a flirty smile that said she knew he was more than fine.

  He smiled, his perfect, white teeth matching the sparkle in his eyes. “Never better,” he answered.

  Three seconds later, Tracy realized who she was flirting with. “Oh my gosh, Prince Johannes,” she gasped. “I’m sorry, should I be curtsying to you? Or wait. Are you Johannes or Viggo? You two look so much alike.”

  He laughed, his manner easier than ever. “Johannes. But please, call me Johan.”

  “Johan,” she repeated, liking the sound of it. But instead of settling in to the sparks that flashed between the two of them, she rested her weight on one hip and studied him with a slight frown. “What are you doing back here? Shouldn’t you be up in the royal box with the rest of your family?”

  His warm expression hardened to business as well. “I came down to see what happened with the power.”

  “That’s why I’m here too.” Her heart jerked in her chest. It was like she’d swallowed a frog. Not that she was complaining. She liked a man who took charge, who wanted to set things right. Precious few men in her life had done that. With a nod, she set into motion, pointing ahead of them as Johan walked by her side. “I think the electrical room is up here. We might be able to figure something out based on what we find there.”

  “It’s more likely that power was cut from the outside,” Johan said. “Less security.”

  She glanced around, then raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t see a lot of security right here, do you?”

  “Good point.” His frown deepened, and they picked up their pace.

  They reached the door to the electrical room only to find the entire doorknob had been removed. The pieces and screws lay scattered on the floor, and the door was slightly ajar.

  “Well, that answers that,” Tracy said, reaching to pull the door open wider.

  Prince Johan thrust out a hand to hold her back. It landed square on her boob.

  “Hey!” she shouted, not sure whether to slap him away or laugh.

  Johan instantly turned an alluring shade of bright pink. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “But you can’t just go rushing into a room when we know it’s been tampered with.”

  Any thought of laughter vanished. “My guess is that whoever did this is long gone. Why would they hang out, waiting to be caught? We’re not in some kind of spy thriller movie. I doubt there are boobie traps in there.” She paused, then burst into giggles. Boobie.

  Johan relaxed into a sheepish expression. “All right. But we’ll go in together.”

  “Into a dark room, alone with a prince?” Tracy said, teasing. She edged past Johan to step through the doorway first. “But we just met.”

  His return smile was so tempting that she had to force herself to turn away from him in order to keep on track with their investigation. Who would have thought that a prince could be so…yummy?

  The electrical room was dark, and Tracy was ready to backtrack and find a flashlight when Johan flicked a switch. The lights went on. She twisted to glance at him over her shoulder.

  “Might be a good idea to turn on the lights before conducting a spy movie-like investigation,” he said with more than a little sarcasm.

  “Minor details,” Tracy shrugged. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face, even though the matter in front of them was serious.

  “Someone’s definitely been in here,” Johan said. He started toward the side of the room.

  Tracy turned, seeing what he must have noticed right away. The door to the main electrical box was open, exposing all the switches and breakers. She caught up to Johan as he reached it, and peered over his shoulder, resting her hand on his back as she did. His muscles were firm and warm, and that scent of spicy lemon would forever remind her of him.

  “Nothing seems to be broken,” Johan said, studying the panel.

  “It wouldn’t be.” She had to use all of her powers of focus not to overtly sniff him. “Whoever did this only needed to get into the room and flip some switches.”

  “Then flip them back on again?” He glanced at her over his shoulder.

  The bottom dropped out of Tracy’s stomach. Damn, the man was hot. And the chemistry was totally there between them, even though they were basically strangers. But she had to focus.

  “Why would someone come in, turn off the power, then turn it back on again?” she asked.

  “Whoever turned it off obviously wanted to stop the wedding announcement,” he said, pivoting to face her. “Someone else could have turned it back on again.”

  “But if it was someone else, wouldn’t they still be here?”

  He shrugged. “Not if they moved on to take care of other things.”

  “Then why are we the first people here? Why were the lights out when we got here? If someone other than the culprit turned the lights back on, why didn’t they leave these lights on and set up guards or something?”

  No sooner were the questions out of her mouth than footsteps sounded from the hallway. Half a second later, a pair of men in arena security uniforms pushed the door open fully and rushed inside.

  “Prince Johannes,” one of them said. “What’s going on here?”

  “Miss—” Johan turned to Tracy with a surprised look that said he didn’t know her name.

  “Minhall,” she filled in for him. “Tracy Minhall. I’m Fuchsia’s personal assistant. I came down here to find out what happened with the power.”

  “So did I,” Johan added. His posture straightened as he stepped forward to address the guards. “Someone broke into this room to shut the power off. We think the same person must have turned it back on again, because they flicked these lights off and left the door mostly closed after the fact.”

  A smile spread across Tracy’s face. He’d gone along with her theory, which meant he took her seriously, even though he didn’t know her. That was even sexier than gorgeous eyes.

  “Did you touch anything?” the second guard asked. “We’ll need to know in case we pick up your fingerprints once the police get here.”

  “Only the door and the light switch,” Johan said. He touched Tracy’s arm and nodded to the door. “We’ll get out of the way and let you do your job.”

  Tracy went with him, feeling far giddier than she should have in the middle of a criminal investigation. When they were in the hall she turned to Johan.

  “Should we check outside? Do you think whoever did this is still here?”

  His face pinched in thought. “Probably not. They’d want to get in and out before any of us noticed.”

  The statement was a let-down. It meant that he would go his way and she would go hers.

  She was just bracing for the inevitable parting when he smiled and said, “So. Tracy Minhall. Fuchsia’s personal assistant?”

  “Until about twenty minute
s ago,” she said.

  His brow creased. “What happened twenty minutes ago?”

  Tracy blew out a breath. “Long story, but I think I just got fired.”

  “I’m sorry.” He looked genuinely upset for her.

  Tracy laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not really rock star assistant material anyhow. I’m a journalist.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, Em—I mean, Fuchsia, is an old friend of mine, and she gave me the job so that I could get an inside look into the music industry for some freelance stories.”

  He either completely missed the second half of what she’d said or instantly bounced back to the first part. His brow rose and he said, “That was Emma on stage. I couldn’t quite tell from a distance. Emma is Fuchsia?”

  Tracy winced. “Well now I’m extra fired. It’s supposed to be a massive secret.”

  “We just met, and now you’re telling me massive secrets?” Johan’s grin turned downright sultry.

  It felt as though the temperature in the hall went up by ten degrees. “Do people often tell you their secrets?”

  To her surprise, a look of dead seriousness came into his eyes. “Yes. Well, my brother sure does.”

  “Interesting.” Her heart felt like a frog jumping around in her chest. She dared herself to make a move. “Do you have any secrets?” she said, taking a step closer to him and tracing a finger along the lapel of his suit jacket.

  “Loads of them,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.

  He leaned in, his heat and scent surrounding her. A tiny voice in the back of her head scolded her for rushing to kiss a man she’d only just met. But he was a prince, for gosh sakes, and a delicious one at that. She felt herself go all rubbery as his hand rested on her waist, and she tilted her head up, lips soft.

  “Johan. There you are.”

  The two of them snapped apart as Prince Arne marched around the corner and found them. Arne paused, glancing between the two of them, before clearing his throat and saying, “Mother wants us out front in the lobby to answer questions. There’s a gang of reporters closing in.”