Best Friends with a Royal Billionaire

by Sophia Summers

  Amara looked away, but as he stepped closer, she hugged him back. No exuberant kiss on the cheek, but that was okay too. After the sisterly welcome from Clara, Arlo was happy to keep the sentiments separate. Clara—friend. Amara—what? Amara was special.

  He grabbed both their suitcases, Amara giving him an apologetic look when he started lugging Clara’s bag, and they hurried on board.

  “We are ready!”

  “Aye aye, Captain.” Clara saluted and then ran down the stairs to find her room. “I call same room as last time.”

  Amara joined him. “She’s twenty, I promise. Not fifteen.”

  “She’s great. We should be so carefree.”

  “This is the month to do it.”

  “Did you finish all your work for your classes?”

  “Yes. All done.” She stretched her hands above her head and dipped from one side to the other. Her strappy dress showed what promised to be a new bikini under it, and Arlo allowed himself one quick perusal of her tanned arms, lovely curves, and long, long legs.

  Her rounded nose tipped up at the end. And by the time he returned his gaze to her eyes, she had one brow lifted. “Are you finished?”

  He felt his face heat. “What?”

  “Oh nothing. Come on. Let’s get this boat out on the water!”

  He raced after her. Soon they had backed out of the marina and were easing out into the bay. The wind blew, whipping her hair up and around her head. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  They moved from the outside smaller navigation location to the indoor bridge. Amara immediately moved to the large steering wheel.

  “You like that thing, don’t you?”

  She looked at Arlo over her shoulder. “Yep. Though pretty soon we should be able to chart our course and let it do its thing, right?”

  “For the most part. Unless you want to sail for a bit?”

  He knew she did. Her eyes lit as she looked out across the water. “Later. Let’s sail before we take her back home.”

  “Done.” He moved to stand at her side. And for a time, they both seemed lost in thought as they looked out the windows that lined the whole front of the boat.

  After a moment, he felt her eyes on him, but he didn’t turn. He’d do a lot to be able to learn what went through her mind when she looked at him.

  “Remember when we snuck out in the small skipper?”

  He tipped his head back and laughed. “Oh yeah I do. We had the whole king’s security team out looking for us.”

  “That’s when we found the cave of wonders.”

  “You call it the cave of wonders. I stand by my thirteen-year-old statement. That’s a dumb name.”

  “Well, cave of death and destruction is dumb too.”

  He dipped his head in concession. “Maybe we’ll have to go back and christen it something appropriate.”

  “We should. Do you think anyone else has found it?”

  “I don’t know.” The last time they’d been there, they were graduating from their secondary schools and Arlo had almost kissed her.

  He’d called to her. “Come and see!”

  Then he’d run toward the back of the cave, far enough that the opening was only a dim light. Then he’d used his phone to show her. “Look.” In a tiny place by their heads, he’d carved, A + A. “Now it’s ours. Officially. We’ve claimed it.”

  Her eyes had glistened up at him. But when he stepped closer, she blinked, backed away, and ran toward the opening. “Come on. High tide is coming.”

  She ran. That’s what she did. When feelings got too high or too deep, Amara was out. Standing here beside her on his boat, the realization hit him. He almost called her on it, but he waited. They didn’t have the same camaraderie they’d had when they were children. He couldn’t call out her emotional hang-ups anymore on a whim. But he’d bring it up. Before the end of this month, he and Amara were going to have a conversation.

  “Look.” Her finger pointed at a spout. A school of dolphins jumped at their side. “The sea must be cleaner.”

  “It is. All the summits and initiatives set up by the Valdez crown have really made everyone take note. We’ve got a designated garbage run for our circle of boats, and Emily’s boat is going to have a compactor.”

  “That’s great.”

  “If we don’t lead out, no one will take any of it seriously.”

  “Are the Valdez brothers coming too?”

  “I think everyone will be here. Their sister Dahlia is coming too. And her friends, thankfully. We don’t have a lot of women in this batch of royals.”

  Amara looked away. “Is that why you invited us?”

  “Of course.”

  But when her expression clouded, he amended, “I’m joking. I invited you because I wanted you to come. This is our thing, to my mind. I wouldn’t want to have anyone else with me. We’re great. We’re easy. It’s like family.”

  Her expression clouded further, but her voice was neutral. “And the Finley sisters?”

  “Yes, they’re coming.” The woman his father wanted him to marry and all her younger sisters would be there. And if he were being completely honest, she was part of the reason he wanted Amara near. A buffer. A protection? He chided himself, but it might be true. He didn’t think he wanted the life she represented, and Amara helped him avoid it a little while longer.

  “I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

  “What! Why do you say things like that? That’s crazy. You are here in my space ’cause I want you in my way.”

  Clara laid a towel out on the deck and faced the sun. She turned and waved to them.

  “You can go do that if you want. I’ll take first shift here.” Amara in a bikini? Absolutely.

  “Hmm.” She searched his face, a flash of uncertainty making her that much more vulnerable. He wished he could wipe it away. But he didn’t know what to say or do to put her at ease.

  “We’ll anchor down tonight early, enjoy the sunset with some of Marguerite’s dinner, and prepare ourselves for the huge group tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good.” She stepped closer, seemed like she was about to say something, and then stopped.

  “I know what this is.”

  “You do?” Her mouth dropped open in shock.

  “Totally. You can’t give up the steering wheel.”

  “Uh, it’s not a steering wheel.”

  “Sure it is. It’s round and it steers.”

  “Very funny.” She stepped up to it again. “I could give it up.”

  “Ho ho.”

  “But I don’t want to.”

  “And what if I want my turn?”

  “Then you’ll have to pry my fingers off one by one…”

  He stepped up close behind her and rested a hand on top of hers. “Or we could share.”

  Her head dipped and then she nodded. “Or we could share.”

  The air between them sizzled and crackled with expectation, the pull between them more powerful than he’d ever felt. Only his strict force of will kept him from pressing his chest to her back and running his hands down her shoulders before pressing his lips to the soft part of her neck, the dip he’d never explored.

  Knowing she might not welcome such an advance kept him from trying it, but there was nothing saying he couldn’t have a little fun. Flirting was just part of the fun with Amara, and she could give as much as she could take. If he got her in the right mood.

  3

  When they’d anchored down by a quiet sandbar, Amara was happy they were the only ones there. She wanted one quiet night, just with the three of them, four if you included dear Marguerite. And she included her.

  They set their table up on deck. The night was warm. The air was still. The water, calm. Everything was set and ready to eat just as the sun neared the horizon. And they paused to watch it.

  “Now, if that isn’t the most beautiful thing God has done for us today, I don’t know what is.” Marguerite crossed herself as Amara had seen her do countless times.

&n
bsp; “And how are your family?” Amara thought her sons had married and perhaps the woman now had grandchildren.

  “They are so good. I’ll show you my pictures. I have two of the most darling grandchildren. You just wait until you have them.” She pointed to Amara and Arlo, almost as if to say they would be having them together.

  Amara’s face heated. “Oh, well.”

  Arlo leaned back, clearly enjoying her discomfort, and waited for her to say something in response.

  “Children would be great. Whenever it’s time.”

  “Good answer.” Arlo clapped. “Now that the sun has shown off a little for us tonight, shall we eat some of our dear chef’s masterpiece?”

  “Oh, you. It’s just the simple fare you’ve always had.”

  “And don’t you think that would make it extra special?”

  Amara reached for Marguerite’s hand. “Thank you for coming.”

  “My pleasure. And besides, do you think I’d let the three of you”—she pointed especially at Clara—“have some royal party unsupervised in the middle of the ocean? Who knows what would happen?” Her voice was stern, but her eyes merry. That was the way of dear Marguerite.

  “Who knows, indeed.” Amara laughed.

  Clara shrugged. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving and ready to have some fun at this party. You don’t need to be too concerned, do you? I mean, these are our friends. We’ve known them our whole lives.”

  “Tut. Friends, indeed. I think when they see you, there will be nothing of ‘friends’ on any of those men’s minds. You take care.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Clara looked like she’d be doing anything but taking care, but Amara knew she had a good head on her shoulders.

  “I’m just happy you two have each other.” Again, she waved at Amara and Arlo, indicating the two of them were together.

  Amara didn’t know what to say, and Arlo just winked, so she let it go. For now. She couldn’t let the entire royal community think that she and Arlo were an item. She knew there was already speculation enough.

  Arlo had a life, a future, mapped out with the Finley girl. She couldn’t even think of her name. Therese Finley. There, she’d forced the name. Arlo had a future with her if his parents had any say in things. And Amara wouldn’t be the broken-hearted girl on the side waiting for a scrap or a leftover.

  “Arlo and I are the best of friends. The three of us really. We grew up together.” There. That would settle things.

  But Marguerite just shook her head. “Yes, you are friends. But let me tell you a story.”

  Arlo picked up his knife and fork. “Let us eat while we listen.”

  The food was delicious. Fresh fruit, figs, grapes, and shrimp. “Mmm. I’ve missed your food. Thank you.”

  “Yes, yes, you eat, I talk. I remember when you were younger. Who was it that sat with you, played with you when you were done with your lessons?”

  “Did you?” Arlo shrugged. “I know someone was there.”

  “Ha ha, so you see. You two were much more interested in each other. Oh the games you would play. Well, this story I tell because it is important. You were always playing the games with the hero rescuing the other. And sometimes the hero was Arlo and sometimes it was Amara.”

  “That I can well believe.” Arlo grunted.

  “Yes, well, one time, you both did a dangerous thing, and Amara was standing on top of a wall. But you shouted from below. “It’s okay, Amara. Jump! I’ll catch you.”

  “I remember this.” Amara hadn’t thought about it in years. “I jumped.”

  “Yes, you did. Before I could even shout, no, you leapt from the wall, straight on top of Arlo.”

  They all laughed.

  “Flattened him.”

  “Flattened?” Amara snorted, and their laughter carried across the water, the instant and spontaneous kind that Amara never got enough of. In fact, the last time she’d laughed with so much abandon, she’d been with Arlo.

  “But my point is this. You two were made to be together. For you will always want to love and care for her. And she will always trust you enough to jump.” She nodded her head as if it was decided and then started eating her own meal.

  Clara looked from one to the other, and Amara didn’t know what to say. The power of Marguerite’s words shook her to the core with their truth. When she finally dared to look in Arlo’s direction, he was staring straight at her, his eyes intent. After a moment, he nodded and then they all continued with their meal.

  Clara wiped her mouth. “Well, let’s not have any tests of that theory on this trip. I don’t want any of our time cut short.”

  “Here, here.” Amara held up her cup of water to clink glasses with her sister. “I’m wanting my full vacation out of this. We all need it.”

  “Oh, speaking of that.” Arlo pulled out his phone. “I saw a warning on here the other day.”

  When Clara groaned, he shook his head. “No, it’s probably nothing, just something to watch. See this smudge right here.” He showed them a cloudy area on a navigation app. “That right there is a bit of weather. So far, it’s too far away to know anything, but some are already talking about how it might wreak some havoc around here.”

  “I refuse to allow it.” Clara shook her head. “I don’t want to miss one day of this summer.”

  “I hope it’s nothing. But we have weather specialists on high alert. It wouldn’t do for all of us to be anchored on the water in a storm.”

  Clara didn’t say anything. Amara was grateful that Arlo paid attention to those kinds of things. But she knew he would. Marguerite was right. Amara would always trust Arlo. What she didn’t trust was her own feelings. Somehow, someday, she would have to watch him marry another woman and pretend she was happy about it.

  4

  Arlo grinned as Amara walked out on deck in a swimsuit with her towel and a book. Finally, she was going to relax a little. She’d given up the bridge, and that was just fine with him. He drank in the sight of her. Wow, he’d missed her these past four months. Who would have thought the girl he’d loved all through high school would turn into a woman he couldn’t look away from.

  She was stunning. And for the first time since he’d planned to bring the two Cohen sisters with him, he had some misgivings about the idea. He looked at her from a typical male perspective. What prince wouldn’t want to be all over her? Or Clara for that matter?

  His gaze travelled between the two of them. Where Amara was stunning with dark, thick hair falling around her shoulders and delicious curves everywhere, Clara was light, her blond hair reflecting the sun. She was skinnier, not yet filled out, but equally gorgeous.

  His hands gripped the wheel. Was he to play protector over two of the most beautiful women at the party as well as try to convince Amara that he was not just her friend, but could be so much more? He dropped his forehead forward. As well as not insult the Finley sisters who still hoped something would eventually happen between their families. If you listened to the parents’ planning, you’d think that Arlo had already proposed and they were just waiting to pick a date.

  Not. So.

  When he was younger, he’d assumed that someday he’d be ready to do something like that—pursue a woman of his parents’ choosing. He’d waited for the day that it would seem like a good idea. It never had. Instead his interest in Amara had steadily grown. The girl he loved as a teen was now a woman he admired, respected, and possibly couldn’t live without. Hopefully, no matter what happened, they could always be friends.

  But he did need to move forward in his decisions. The Finleys wouldn’t wait forever. His parents had been nudging him to start doing the responsible thing, which, in their mind, was to settle down and begin a stable, happy life in preparation for when he would assume the throne. Perhaps his father wanted to retire. He didn’t know why his personal life needed to feel steady in order for them to want to pass the throne, but he could understand.

  Things would already be settled if Amara hadn
’t started acting all weird.

  If he could make himself push the issue.

  And if his parents would be happy with the gardener’s daughter sitting on the throne beside him.

  They loved the Cohens. But well did he remember their comments whenever Amara came up. “If you want to spend time with those people.” Or, “You’re from two different worlds, Arlo, really.” Or, “Do you think they will understand? They’re not royals. Even though they live here, they’re paid to do so, don’t you see?”

  When he lifted his head again, Amara was looking right at him. She tilted her head in question.

  He waved and smiled.

  Her smile in return helped him feel like everything was going to be okay.

  Clara must have turned up the music because she stood, and Arlo joined their little dance party from where he stood. In a lot of ways, he was dreading the party, because he would lose this cozy, easy group.

  For one, they’d have three more guys join them on the boat. At the last minute, Felix and Becket, two brothers and princes in the society, had asked for space. And they were bringing a new guy Arlo had never heard of before—Sebastian, apparently went by Seb. Already Arlo was dreading their company.

  Felix and Beck were okay. They would immediately set their sights on the girls, but Clara and Amara could handle them, no problem. But this new guy… Arlo didn’t like the idea of a guy he knew nothing about. But what could he do? Beck had just basically told him Seb was coming, no questions asked.

  Loud yacht horns sounded from somewhere up ahead. Clara turned down the music and the girls ran to the front of the boat, leaning forward over the bow. Arlo grinned. Some of the guys were already there, anchored and ready. He played a quick tune on his horn, and they answered. The girls waved and shouted even though they probably knew no one could hear them yet.

  Arlo eased closer to the sandbar. They were in the center of a small inlet. The shoreline was lined with bars, dance clubs, theaters, all kinds of entertainment. And the yachts would be as close together as they could be. Late night conversations from one deck to another were some of Arlo’s best memories from last year.