Best Friends with a Royal Billionaire

by Sophia Summers

  She came up beside him, about ten feet away, her arms tugging on the kite strings, her feet strapped into a board, her thigh muscles bulging from the effort, her arms straining, her face full of concentration. She was magnificent.

  “You’re doing great.”

  “I’ve been practicing.”

  “Awesome. You ready to take on the open water?” Arlo was suddenly perfectly happy to stay in the bay. The wind and waves were strong enough.

  “We gotta beat thirty feet. Can we do that in here?”

  He tipped his head back and almost dumped himself in the ocean again. His laugh was lost to the wind, but he grinned. “You know I love you, right?”

  Her grin faded for a moment, her eyes serious, then her smile became soft. Her board hit a wave that was about to crash, and she went soaring in the air. Her kite hit a gust which took her even higher. Arlo turned on his camera that was strapped to his head. “Wave! I got you on camera.”

  She ignored him or didn’t hear him. And went higher. The winds gushed and shifted all the time when you were up there, and soon she was falling again. But her form was good. Arlo was impressed. She really had been practicing. She was as pro as anyone he’d seen. He tried to navigate over closer to her, but the gusts and waves kept them apart.

  He dug into the waves and used them to jump and flip and skirt along the top of the water. The power of his muscles using the kite, his legs controlling the board beneath him and keeping him upright, gave him great satisfaction. Then Seb came barreling toward him and leapt into the air, his kite taking him higher.

  Arlo was reluctantly impressed but not about to let Seb think he was the only one with some leaping power. He studied the waves, the water, the wind, and then made his move. He had to build up momentum, so he took himself back in towards the bay, towards the boats. The wind there was unpredictable, but the huge gusts could work in his favor. He only needed one to be able to fly.

  When he hit the wave and powered up into the sky, he cheered when the wind grabbed his kite and whipped him up toward the clouds. For a moment, all he saw was the soft white-blue of the sky above. Then he whipped around in a midair flip and urged the kite to take him higher. Up he went, his camera on. He was way above thirty feet, and he hoped Amara could see him. Then the wind sputtered and paused, and he started to fall. He let the kite out, hoping to grab some wind to soften the landing.

  He caught enough to bounce in the air, jerkily riding wind bursts until he crashed to the water. His kite picked up enough so that he could power into the bay toward the boats. His breath came hard and his heart hammered, but he was riding on adrenaline. Saltwater sprayed into his open and smiling mouth.

  Then Amara was at his side. “What’s the matter with you!”

  “What! That was awesome, did you see that? I must have been forty-five feet in the air.”

  “Oh, you were. You were way higher, and you could have hurt yourself.” Her face was filled with worry, and as much as he enjoyed the fact that she cared, there was a flash of anger there that he didn’t like to see.

  “You’re right. But I just couldn’t let that idiot talk his way into thinking he was something great.”

  She bowed her head, adjusting the cables of her kite. “I get that. I did the same, but you were reckless. You can’t be. Think of all of us who need you here, safe and sound.” She took off, moving faster toward their boats, and Arlo was left to think about what she said.

  He knew she was right. Being the sole heir to a throne had governed his actions for as long as he could remember. He was responsible all the time because he was the heir. He was careful because he was the heir. He didn’t take unnecessary risks, because he was the heir. He was on his best behavior all the time, especially in public, because he was the heir. He had to be aware of what people might see and think. He chose carefully who he dated. He even ate at certain restaurants and chose his friends carefully because one day he would be the king of a country. Even his relationship with Amara was governed somewhat by the ever-present, heavy knowledge that he was the heir.

  He frowned. And today, he’d just wanted to be a guy—a competitive, testosterone-crazed guy—and show that pompous newb what it meant to be really great at something.

  But Amara was right. It wasn’t worth it. But she’d included herself in that statement: Think of all of us who need you here, safe and sound. He grinned. Yes, things with Amara were definitely looking up.

  When he pulled up to the boats, the guys cheered.

  Brooks held up his GoPro. “I got it all on video, bro!”

  Arlo tapped his helmet. “Me too!”

  The guys cheered again.

  “Awesome. We’re totally watching them tonight. I’ve never seen anything like that, man. You’re crazy.” Brooks worked as a secret agent, or he had, for many years. “Crazy” coming from him really meant something.

  Then they all pointed over Arlo’s shoulder and cheered louder. “Look at that dude. He’s fearless.”

  Arlo turned and Seb was up again doing flips. But this time, Arlo didn’t care. Amara pulled in beside him. They sat on their boards as they took care of the cables and rolled up their kites together in silence.

  “You know, you’re a lot better than the last time we went.”

  “It’s been awhile.”

  “True. When do you go? I imagine Prague doesn’t have kite surfing.”

  She laughed. “No, they don’t. But I take trips. A group of us went down to Australia over spring break.”

  “Oh, that’s where you were.”

  “Were you home?”

  “Yeah. I was hoping you and I could go somewhere.”

  “You were?” She seemed shocked.

  “Why are you surprised by that? Amara…”

  “Look out!” The guys were looking up directly above them.

  Arlo dove for Amara and into the water. Bubbles crashed above them, but Arlo kicked furiously deeper. They kicked off the sandbar about fifteen feet down and then swam to the surface.

  As soon as they surfaced, they saw a jumbled mass of boards and kites and Seb coming up for air.

  “I’m gonna kill him.” Arlo’s temper surged.

  “After me.”

  “That was an idiot move.”

  “Maybe let it go. Look at the guys.”

  A row of the princes stood on deck, frowning. Then Brooks called out. “Dude. Not cool.”

  Seb didn’t answer but began working on untangling the mess.

  Arlo and Amara left him to it and swam to their boat. When they climbed up, Felix handed them towels. “He landed on top of you guys. We weren’t sure you made it.”

  Amara hugged Felix. “Thank you. I’m just glad Arlo is a quick thinker and a powerful swimmer.” She turned to him. “Come on, let’s go below.”

  He nodded. And they made their way downstairs. His hands shook. He couldn’t tell if it was with rage or leftover adrenaline. They kept walking all the way to his quarters, went inside, and closed the door. Then Amara melted into his arms. Her tears came freely.

  “I’m so sorry, Amara.”

  She hugged him tighter then sniffed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I—I mean, no one likes to almost get seriously injured or to swim to the bottom to save your life. You could have died again—that’s twice today. I’m really shaken.” She turned, placing her cheek on his chest. “I wish it was always like this.”

  He laughed. “Near-death dives to the bottom of the sea?”

  “Nah, you know, just this hug. It’s nice.”

  He wrapped his arms tighter. “I know. I’m just messing with you. I’ve been wanting you right here in my arms every day since the last time I saw you.”

  She stilled, and he wondered if he’d said too much. But he didn’t regret his words. Sincerity. Honesty. They’d skirted their issues long enough.

  “It was my fault. I’m sorry I egged him on, let him think his dumb show-off moves mattered.”

  “But I felt the same way. Until
I saw you go up too high.” She stepped away, and he missed her in his arms. When she shivered, he wrapped her towel closer. “Want one of my sweatshirts?”

  Her nod was quick and deep.

  He laughed. “Coming right up.”

  As soon as she was swimming in his oversized sweatshirt and pants, they sat together on a low-profile couch he had in his quarters, facing a gas fireplace. The cabin heated up immediately and he hugged her close, watching the flames. “I’m so happy you’re here with me.”

  He could feel her smile up against him.

  “Me too.”

  He knew they couldn’t stay in his room forever, though that sounded like the best plan he’d heard all day. But he wanted this moment to linger for as long as possible. “You know, I can’t lose you either. That was too close for me.”

  She lifted his hand and toyed with his fingers. The feel of her cool, smaller hands running along his sent sensations up his arms. He didn’t think she had any idea the power she held over him. “I would have been devastated if anything had happened to you.”

  She stopped and turned to look him in the face. “That’s how I felt when you were so high in the air. When the wind stopped, I thought for sure you were going to break a leg, crashing back down. Or worse. Your head.” Her mouth lifted in a small smile.

  “Shall we agree not to take unnecessary risks?”

  She nodded. “Agreed.”

  They did a smaller version of their handshake without even thinking. Then she sat back and snuggled against him. But snuggling was not on his mind. He didn’t dare yet, but looking at her beautiful face without makeup, her small frame in his clothes, and feeling the warmth of the fire made him want to turn her around, lay her on the couch, and kiss her senseless.

  But instead, as he ran his fingers through her hair, he told himself that soon, soon he would let her know exactly how he felt. He hoped that she would at least consider dating him, testing how things could grow between them. Until then, snuggling on a warm couch was more than he’d had with her for four months, so he’d take it.

  7

  Amara woke up in the crook of Arlo’s arm in front of the fire to a lot of noise up on deck.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  She grinned. “That’s something I’d like to hear every morning.” She sucked in her breath, shocked at herself.

  “Would you, now?” He dipped his head so that he was eyeing her with his sparkly handsome face, and she didn’t know what to say. The answer was yes! So many times, yes. But was he ready to hear it? He kissed the tip of her nose and stood. “That’s a topic I’d like to bring up again when you’re ready.”

  Loud music played, a deep, pounding base.

  “And that would be Emily’s crew.”

  “Did they bring The Behemoth?”

  “Let’s go find out. I haven’t seen those guys in forever.”

  The Americans, sometimes they were called. They ran a sports gear and clothing empire that’d had some trouble a few years back and diversified. If their new, huge yacht was any indication, they were doing fine again financially and were ready to party.

  When Arlo and Amara went out on deck, The Behemoth’s horn blew, sounding across the bay. Then a megaphone clicked on. “Arlo. This is Flynn. Your presence is requested on deck immediately.”

  Amara laughed. “Go. I’ll shower and change.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I like you in my sweats.”

  She waved him off and went back down the stairs. As soon as she shut her door, she closed her eyes, hugging her center. What was happening? Was it happening between her and Arlo? Was he ready to consider her as a romantic interest?

  Her small, revealing comments had slipped out. When she was with him, she was just so comfortable being herself. Her guard came down around him, and as much as she tried to keep up the friend-from-childhood thing, she loved him—and she was afraid it was obvious in everything she did and said. But what could she do? It was Arlo. She could as soon keep something from him as she could her own self.

  Once she was showered and had a pretty, strappy dress on, she made her way back up on deck.

  Seb sat on a chair with his head in his hands. And her heart softened a little bit. Who was this guy? Where did he come from?

  “Seb?”

  He jerked his head up. “Oh. Hey. I thought I was alone.”

  She pulled a chair up closer to him. “You doing okay?”

  He leaned back, ran a hand through his hair, and then turned a pained expression to her. “Not really.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No.” He waved his hand. “But you could have been. Arlo, the others. What if I’d landed on deck? I’m an idiot.”

  She didn’t argue with him.

  “Just showing off. None of the guys know me. I’m not like them.” He leaned forward. “I’m not a royal. I’m not even wealthy. I work on an estate in England.”

  “What!” She smiled. “My family are gardeners.”

  “They are?” His mouth turned up into a smile. “Then you’re not a royal either? But you and Arlo…”

  She shrugged, not willing to share any of her thoughts about Arlo with Seb. “I’m not royal. These are a good group of guys. Once you’re in, you’re in. But you gotta be a good sort of person, not just a royal…or not as the case may be.”

  He nodded. “And so my jerk move was not the best plan to win friendships?”

  “No. Not at all. But apologize. It can work wonders.” She waited. He didn’t respond. Did he not think she deserved an apology as well?

  “I’ll talk to them at the first opportunity. Maybe now. Are you heading over in the dinghy?”

  She bristled. “Yes, I am.”

  They sat in the dinghy while she reached over to untie it and started the motor herself. The whole time she fumed. Was she inconsequential to him? Did a gardener not deserve the same apology that a royal did? She might be sensitive to the disparity between classes, but all the same, he was no royal either.

  But as they pulled closer, he held out his hand. “Wait.”

  She lifted her eyes to his.

  “I am the most sorry for how I put your life at risk. I hope you will accept my deepest and most sincere apologies?”

  She considered him, not totally trusting his apology, but she took his hand. “I accept. And I hope the rest of this month leads to safer ways to try and fit in with the others.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His grin turned charming, and for a moment she thought she might be able to like him again.

  They tied up the boat, and she told him to go first up the ladder.

  Then Emily’s head popped out over the railing. “Get up here now, Amara. I need someone with estrogen.”

  Amara laughed. “I’m coming! Hey. It’s so good to see you!”

  “You too!”

  Her head disappeared again and Amara smiled.

  Once she was up on deck, she was surrounded by a bunch of princes, all of them shouting, “Amara!” She got more kisses on the cheek and hugs than she had in forever. And then her sister Clara was there, squeezing her so tight her breath left. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  “Yeah. That was something.”

  “I will love Arlo forever for saving you.”

  Amara smiled back, her eyes showing she agreed.

  The Americans’ yacht was huge. It rivalled a small European cruise liner. They all moved to the upper deck, a platform for dancing or mingling or whatever. Music played from below. The waves were constant and the wind had picked up, but the larger boat felt more stable. Nico Valdez, the King of Torren, arrived and Arlo went crazy, hugging what seemed like a long-lost brother. The music turned up and Nico raised his hands. “Let’s go! I came here to move!”

  Everyone ran to the middle, surrounding Nico, and started to dance. Clara was at her side but was soon surrounded by princes. How many had come? Amara tried to count. Maybe fifteen. And they’d brought friends and others she didn’t know. But so far, they w
ere short on women. And so Amara soon found herself equally surrounded. When Felix lifted her in the air, she laughed and cheered. Arlo saluted from the other side of the deck. Tonight was gonna be a good night.

  Four songs in, Amara stood at the bar to get some water. Her throat was parched. But she was having a blast. A long and loud horn blasted across the bay.

  Someone shouted, “Finleys off the port!”

  And a noticeable amount of men moved to take a look.

  Arlo met her gaze. And she wasn’t sure what she saw on his face, but she guessed it wasn’t good.

  8

  Therese Finley navigated her boat so that it practically hugged Sun Angel. And Amara wanted to sink the whole thing.

  Oh boy, she better get a grip.

  Clara joined at her side. “Here it comes.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. We’re gonna have a blast no matter how many Finleys are here.”

  “Exactly.”

  Therese stood and waved, her pink polka dots not covering much of her tanned and beautiful body.

  “Exactly.” Amara lifted her water cup and tapped Clara’s. Then Felix showed up. “Clara, we need a fourth for Ping-Pong.”

  “All right!” Clara high-fived her sister and ran off with Felix. So at least Clara was sure to have a blast.

  As Seb approached, she realized she might be stuck with him. “A boat full of royal women?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “More or less.”

  “I understand your situation, you know. So you too might start going to extremes with your kite surfing?”

  “Not a chance. I don’t compete.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “So what will you do? Hide because you can’t stand the sight of them, but you refuse to stoop to their levels?”

  He was surprisingly intuitive.

  “Maybe. It doesn’t really matter what I do.”

  “Ah, there you are wrong. Watch.”

  “Watch what?”

  Amara squealed as he picked her up and put her on his shoulders. “Make way!” he shouted. And then he ran out into the center of the group.

  Amara wanted to die, but what could she do? The best thing at this point was to go with it. She raised her hands in the air. “The party has started!”