The Rock Star's Prince (The Royal Wedding Book 2)

by Merry Farmer

  “He thought you were Fuchsia?” That would explain why he hadn’t shown much suspicion about her.

  “But now he knows I’m not,” Tracy went on. “Now he’s wondering who Fuchsia really is.”

  “Which means he could be suspicious of me,” Emma sighed.

  “And he’s looking for you, Emma,” Tracy finished.

  Emma crossed her arms, too blurry to know what to do about the situation right away. “Did he say what he wanted?”

  “He said he has a surprise for you.”

  She let out a breath. “He’s going to be the one getting a surprise if he figures things out.” Although the part of her that had been stressed out to the max hoping he’d never find out the truth was just about ready to blow the whole thing so she could get some peace.

  “What are you going to do?” Tracy asked, chewing her lip impatiently.

  Emma glanced past Tracy to the stage. She’d already rehearsed her set for the day. Dress rehearsal was tomorrow morning, and the concert was tomorrow night. Her part in today’s rehearsal was already over. She could feel the tug-o-war between her responsibility to her contract and her desire to be as close to Arne for as long as possible deep within her, but she wasn’t on the ball enough to know what she should do.

  In the end, the thing that decided her was remembering that, come Saturday morning, her jet was scheduled to leave Aegiria and head back to New York. If that was going to be the end of things, she wanted to spend as much time as possible with Arne.

  “This is what we’re going to do,” she told Tracy, sounding more confident than she felt. “There’s a shower in the dressing room they gave me, right?”

  “Yeah.” Tracy glanced to the right, where the row of star dressing rooms stood.

  Emma started in that direction, Tracy by her side. “I’m going to de-Fuchsia here and go find Arne.”

  “Are you nuts?” Tracy gaped at her. “What if Hoss finds out?”

  “That’s where I need you to run interference.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Tracy shook her head and let out an ironic laugh. “I love it when you give me the easy tasks.”

  “I’m done rehearsing,” Emma said. “Technically, Hoss doesn’t need me for anything until tomorrow morning. Just tell him I’ve gone back to the hotel to sleep.”

  “What are you really going to do?”

  Emma hadn’t considered it. Tracy held the door to the star dressing room open. As soon as Emma was on the other side and the door was closed and locked, she began tearing off her wig and costume.

  “Honestly, all I really want to do is go back to the hotel.”

  “Um,” Tracy questioned her, picking up pieces of Fuchsia and putting them where they belonged.

  “With Arne,” Emma added. “I just want to spend time with him before I have to leave, but I don’t have the energy to go do something flashy.” She stripped off her clothes and headed to the dressing room’s bathroom. “Maybe we can order room service and just hang out.”

  “What about the crew? Your bodyguards?”

  “Can you run interference with them too?” Emma asked, sticking her head around the bathroom door.

  “Yeah, I’ll try,” Tracy sighed.

  “Thanks!”

  Emma ducked into the bathroom and shut the door. She ran the shower to warm it up as she plucked fake eyelashes and rhinestones from her face. Once again Beth was going to kill her for being careless with the expensive accessories, but as far as Emma was concerned, there were far more important things at stake. Her heart, for one.

  In spite of her hurry, she was careful to wash away every bit of make-up and glitter that she could in the shower. The last thing she needed was another goof-up, like she’d had the other day when she hadn’t washed all the glitter from her hairline. She went through three towels before she was satisfied that every trace of Fuchsia was washed and scrubbed off.

  “Do you have any normal clothes for me?” She called through the door to Tracy. She’d changed into Fuchsia at the hotel and hadn’t thought about what she’d wear before stripping.

  “I’m sure I’ll find something,” Tracy called back.

  Fifteen minutes later, Emma stepped out of the dressing room in a pair of black leggings that she usually wore under one of Fuchsia’s more elaborate costumes and a plain, black t-shirt with the word “starfsfólk”, which was apparently the Aegirian word for “staff”, printed in white across the back. Her hair was still half wet in its pulled-back ponytail, but at least she’d successfully eliminated any trace of glitter.

  “He’s over there,” Tracy whispered, pointing to the stage manager’s booth at the other side of the backstage area.

  Emma took a deep breath, sent Tracy a grateful smile, then marched off across the backstage space.

  “Hey, I heard you were looking for me?” she said with a cheerful smile when she reached the booth and Arne.

  Her heart just about did cartwheels when Arne glanced up at her and smiled. He immediately left the booth to greet her with a European kiss on both cheeks. The way he lingered made her wonder if he would go for broke and kiss her right there, where everyone could see them.

  “No wonder I couldn’t find you earlier,” he said, glancing down at her clothes. “You blend in with everything.”

  Emma’s heart gave another lurch. “If only,” she laughed.

  He sent her a puzzled look, but she ignored it.

  “I hear you have a surprise for me?” she said.

  “I do. Come.” He took her hand and led her across the bustling backstage area to where the group of children was still waiting. At least someone had given them snacks. As soon as they spotted Arne, they jumped up from their chairs and smiled at him as though he were the rock star.

  “Is this Emma?” one adorable little girl with blonde braids asked.

  “Yes, this is Emma.” Arne introduced her to the children. “Emma, this is the Aegirian Children’s Choir, and they have a song for you.”

  “For me?” Emma pressed a hand to her chest. She didn’t have to pretend to be surprised or charmed. She was both in an instant.

  “You sound like Fuchsia,” the girl with braids said.

  Alarm spiked through Emma. She laughed, working to keep her voice far lower than the tone she used when she was in character. “I’ve been told that before,” she said.

  Fortunately, if Arne heard the slip, he didn’t acknowledge it. “What do you think we should sing for Miss Emma?” he asked.

  The children shouted out half a dozen and more suggestions, most of them in Aegirian. Emma had been so impressed with the way everyone of all ages was bilingual and spoke perfect English, but there was something incredibly endearing about hearing them interact with Arne in their native language. They debated what to sing in Aegirian, until a decision was made. Arne moved to stand with the children, and they began.

  “Och jungfrun hon går i dansen med röda gullband. Och jungfrun hon går i dansen med röda gullband. Dem binder hon om sin kärastes arm, dem binder hon om sin kärestes arm.”

  Emma smiled so much during the sweet folk song that she was certain the smile would never leave her. The sweetness of the group, Arne’s deep male voice mingling with the kids’, brought tears to her eyes. She didn’t understand the words, but figured it had something to do with a girl and a boy when Arne and the girl with blonde braids started dancing together. Some of the kids ended up giggling too hard to sing, which just made the whole thing all the more beautiful.

  When they finished, Emma and the adults who were watching over the kids, as well as a few members of the crew who had paused to watch, erupted into applause.

  “That was wonderful,” Emma told them. “Thank you so much. Thank you.” She glanced from the children to Arne, thanking him with more than words. How could she ever even think of leaving Aegiria after a gift that precious?

  “It’s actually an old Swedish folk song,” Arne explained, returning to her side. “But we’ve sort of adopted it here in Aegiri
a.”

  “It’s lovely.” Emma beamed at him.

  “Can we sing another one?” one of the boys asked.

  “Of course. I’d love that,” Emma told them.

  She stood with Arne as the two of them were serenaded with not one, but two more songs. Each one was more adorable than the last, and with each line, each smiling face looking back at her, Emma’s heart yearned more and more to stay with Arne and explore as much as she could of Aegiria and its people.

  When the kids were finally called to the stage to rehearse there, Emma was sad to see them go. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve heard anything so wonderful,” she said with a sigh, waving at the kids as they left.

  “Children are special,” Arne said. He turned to her. “So are you.”

  The unexpected compliment had Emma feeling as though her heart had grown wings and might lift her off the ground. “Thank you for saying that.”

  His look grew mischievous. “I was thinking we might go for a drive along the coast this evening. I know a spot where—”

  She stopped him by pressing her fingers to his lips. “Would you mind if we just went back to the hotel?”

  A whole different kind of light sparked in his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind at all,” he said, swaying closer to her.

  Part of Emma thought she should set him straight and correct whatever assumptions he’d jumped to. A much bigger part of her didn’t want to correct anything. One night. That was all she might have with this amazing man, this prince. They wouldn’t be able to do anything after the concert, and the day after that, she’d be gone. This was it. This was their last chance.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered, glancing at him with a look as heated as his. If the night had to end, she knew exactly how she wanted it to.

  7

  “Are you sure this is all you want to do?” Arne asked a couple hours later, as he and Emma sat on one of her hotel room’s sofas, eating sushi and watching tv. “Because if it is,” Arne went on, “I can change the channel to something in English.”

  Emma laughed. They’d switched on the Aegirian evening news, which was broadcast in Aegirian. For the past half hour, she’d watched attractive, blond reporters chatter away in what sounded like soothing nonsense words about the island kingdom’s comings and goings.

  “I like it,” she said, finishing off the last piece of her spicy salmon roll. “Your language has a poetic quality to it.”

  “You’re the first person I’ve ever heard say that,” Arne chuckled. He’d already finished eating and leaned back against the sofa’s cushy back, stretching his arm toward Emma.

  “No, really. It’s musical.”

  “Thanks. I arranged that myself,” he joked. “At least we don’t speak Danish. Of all the Scandinavian languages, that’s the one that sounds most like they speak with their mouths full of marbles.”

  Emma giggled, her heart feeling lighter than it had in ages. “And at least it’s not Finnish, right? I’ve heard that’s one of the hardest languages to learn.”

  “I struggled with it in school.” Arne nodded.

  “You mean, you speak Finnish?” Emma blinked.

  “I speak seven and a half languages.”

  Emma’s eyes popped wide. “Seven…and a half? What’s that about?”

  “I speak Aegirian, Swedish, Danish, Norwegian, Finnish, English, German, and enough French to order dinner in Paris.”

  “Wow.” She had a hard time catching her breath. Arne was the complete package—gorgeous, intelligent, well-traveled, and a prince. She could hardly believe she was sitting next to him, the remnants of a sushi dinner spread across the coffee table in front of them. Years ago, she’d thought that success in the music industry was the star she was shooting for and the key to fulfilling all of her dreams, but Prince Arne of Aegiria had filled her with new dreams in a matter of days. And he showed her everything she’d been missing on the lonely pinnacle of success. She missed love. She missed connection.

  The newscaster finished up her story, and to Emma’s surprise, Fuchsia’s picture appeared in the box above her shoulder. The warm, fluttery feeing in Emma’s gut curled into a tight, nervous ball as she listened to the newscaster say something that sounded serious. Not only that, Arne’s brow furrowed.

  “Okay, suddenly I wish I did speak Aegirian,” she said.

  “It’s nothing,” Arne said, picking up the remote and clicking off the tv. “Just another story with doubts about hiring a flashy American rock star for such an important concert, doubts about the purpose of the concert, doubts about what the royal family is up to….” He let the sentence hang as if there were more doubts, then sighed.

  Emma was willing to let his slight dig at Fuchsia go. “I was under the impression your people love you.”

  “They do,” he began slowly, “but something’s been in the air lately. None of us know how the announcement of my mother’s wedding plans is going to be received.”

  “Well, you’ll find out soon enough.” Emma stood, gathering the plates and chopsticks they’d used for dinner and carrying them to the kitchen.

  Arne stood and followed her with the glasses. “I would give anything to push the concert off indefinitely.”

  Emma put the dishes in the sink and turned to him, her brow shooting up. “Why? You’ve worked so hard for this.”

  He set the glasses on the counter, then faced her with a sad, yet also sultry, look. “I would do anything to delay the concert because I know that when it’s over and when Fuchsia leaves, you leave with her.”

  His words shot straight to her heart, straight to her core, tying both in knots. She opened her mouth to say that she felt the same way, that she never wanted to leave, that she’d give anything to stay, but before a single word could escape her lips, his arms were around her and his lips were pressed to hers.

  She sighed with pleasure and longing as he kissed her. He teased her bottom lip with his teeth, brushed his tongue against hers, and explored the sparks between them to the fullest. Emma’s insides turned molten, and she pressed her hips against his. He was already noticeably aroused, which turned the sparks to full-on flames.

  He leaned back with a scintillating sigh. “Mmm. That was the best sushi ever.”

  She burst into a laugh before she could stop herself. “Not exactly the best date food.”

  “Any food is good date food if the date’s with you,” he said, then kissed her again.

  Her head spun and her body pulsed with longing. Every fiber of her being wanted him. But through the haze of passion—a haze that was intensifying at lightning speed as his hands spread across her sides, inching up toward her breasts—her mind shouted at her to slam on the breaks.

  “Arne,” she said, forcing herself to lean back enough to look into his eyes.

  “Yes,” he answered, both as a question and an affirmation of the lust swirling between them.

  “There’s something I have to tell you before we do this.” Breathing was hard, let alone getting words out, but it was vital that she told Arne the truth. He needed to know who he was getting hot and heavy with.

  “You can tell me anything,” he said, his voice low and seductive, as he backed her slowly toward the door to the bedroom. “You can tell me I’m a fool for starting something with someone who’s about to leave. You can tell me a prince shouldn’t be with the woman he chooses to be with. You can tell me we’re doomed before we start, but I’m not going to listen to any of it.”

  “No?” Her voice shook, and her will to confess was shattering.

  “I’ve been telling myself all of those things for days now, and it’s no use.” He picked her up, and Emma wrapped her legs around him instinctively. That allowed him to pick up his pace as he carried her to the bedroom. He shut the door with his foot once they were in, then walked to lay her across the bed, covering her with his body. “I love you, Emma.” She caught her breath. “I know it’s impossible, but I believe in making the impossible very, very possi
ble.”

  She should have protested. She should have said anything, but all Emma could do was make a sound of need and acceptance deep in her throat as Arne kissed her deeply. His mouth felt perfect over hers, and she explored it with all the passion she’d been keeping in reserve for years.

  His hands tugged at the hem of her t-shit, pulling it up and sliding across her stomach. His touch on her bare skin sent ripples of longing straight to her center. She could feel the heat and tension building inside of her and ached to be filled by him. He brushed a light kiss across her lips, then her cheek and neck. And, heaven help her, she abandoned all plans to confess and pulled at his shirt instead.

  It took seconds for them to shed their clothes. Somehow they managed it while tangled and horizontal on the bed. Emma had never been so glad to strip down to nothing, not even after a night in the most cumbersome Fuchsia costume. It felt so amazing to slide her skin against Arne’s that sounds worthy of the most questionable celebrity videos escaped from her. They didn’t stop as Arne stroked his hands along her sides then cupped one breast. He brought his mouth to her nipple and proceeded to lick and suck it into a hard point. The ache of pleasure shot straight to her core, causing her to wriggle against him.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he growled, making his way to her other breast. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to get enough of you.”

  “I want you, Arne,” she sighed. “So much. In every way.”

  He answered with a rumbling sound of pleasure that vibrated through her. She wasn’t exactly a spring daisy and definitely not a virgin, but the way he touched her in all the right places, the way he kissed her and tasted her skin, felt new and vibrant in every way. She felt like she was in very real danger of coming at any second.

  The sensation only intensified as he kissed his way across her stomach and lower as she fought not to arch off the bed. Her legs were spread and she stretched her arms over her head, feeling utterly exposed to him and at his mercy.