The limo took Emma around to the back entrance of what she was assured was Solrighavn’s finest hotel. She waited anxiously as Tracy jumped out to make sure everything was ready with the room.

“Everything’s ready,” Tracy announced when she returned.

Emma climbed out of the car, her bodyguards and Beth behind her, and made a bee-line for the door. “Good, because I’ve got about an hour to de-Fuchsia and re-Emma before the prince gets here.”

Tracy giggled as they reached the elevator that would take them straight to one of the executive suites on the top floor of the hotel. “Man, I’d love to have your life. Private jets, fancy costumes, dating princes.”

Emma laughed. “You’re welcome to it.”

The elevator doors slid open with a nondescript ding, and Emma and her whole entourage piled in.

The suite Hoss had booked for Fuchsia was amazing, complete with a stunning view of the harbor. As the capital city of Aegiria, Solrighavn had that old-world, European charm that made something in Emma’s heart sing. She was just a simple girl from the Midwest, but her DNA was firmly European, and from the very first time Fuchsia had toured abroad, she’d felt a pull to Europe that was cellular.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to sit and enjoy the view. As picky and time-consuming as it was to get into Fuchsia-mode, it was just as complicated to get out of it. She sat on one of the chairs in the dining area while Beth picked rhinestones off her face, then removed her wig, then applied industrial-strength make-up remover. It took both Beth and Tracy to help her climb out of her glitzy costume without popping any seams. Even then, she had to jump into the shower and scrub herself within an inch of her life to remove every trace of glitter, glue, and make-up.

“This is so surreal,” Emma said to Tracy when the process was almost done. They stood together at the long sink and counter in the bathroom, Emma blow-drying her hair and Tracy running her fingers through her own, checking herself out in the mirror.

“What, dating a prince?” Tracy asked.

Satisfied her hair was good enough, Emma turned off the dryer. “No, the fact that I met him at Heathrow as me, met him again at the airport as Fuchsia, and now I’m going out with him as Emma.”

“It does sort of sound like one of those sit-coms where the girl is dating two guys at once.”

“Or in this case, I’m trying to be two people seeing one prince.” She checked her reflection, debating putting on a touch of normal make-up. But after the layers of goo that were Fuchsia, she couldn’t stand the feel of it.

Tracy shrugged. “Why don’t you just tell him who you are and get it over with?”

Emma turned to her with a flat look. “Can you imagine the fit that Hoss would have if I broke my contract and revealed my secret identity?”

“So now you’re a superhero?” Tracy snorted.

“In reverse,” Emma said with a sigh. “I’d so much rather just be Clark Kent.”

“So?” Tracy crossed her arms and leaned one hip against the counter. “Why not break your contract and face the consequences?”

“I don’t have five million dollars’ worth of consequences lying around to break it with.” Emma decided she looked good enough, and time was ticking. She headed out to the main part of the suite.

Tracy followed her with a whistle. “Five million dollars? Is that really how much the penalty is?”

Emma glanced over her shoulder at her friend. “That’s just a start. I also forfeit any rights to Fuchsia’s royalties, image, merchandise, her entire brand if I spill the beans.”

“Damn girl. Why’d you sign a contract like that?” Tracy headed to the counter in the kitchen area to pick up her purse and the one she’d put together for Emma during her shower.

Emma laughed ironically. “I was young and stupid. The production company offered me more cash than I’d ever seen in my life, and the prospect of lifting my family out of their working-class grind was too much to resist.”

“You should have hired a better lawyer right from the start,” Tracy told her as they headed for the door.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Emma sighed in reply.

The bodyguards waved to her as they left the suite. They only had orders to protect Fuchsia, which was a small perk of keeping her real identity an iron-clad secret. And while she had a feeling Hoss probably had her followed when she was herself just to make sure she stuck to their deal, she was endlessly grateful to have that one remaining shred of anonymity left in her life.

“What are you going to do while I’m out?” Emma asked as they rode the elevator down to the lobby.

Tracy shrugged. “I dunno. I think I’ll do some looking around. My journalistic spidey-sense has been tingling about this place since you got the call to perform.”

“Really?” Emma had known being a PA was just a side-job to Tracy’s real career of investigative reporter, which was what she’d been doing before Emma hired her, against Hoss’s wishes. But Tracy had been inches away from uncovering the truth of who Emma was, and giving her a job that positioned her deep within the entertainment industry, thus giving her a wealth of material to sell some hard-hitting stories, had seemed like a better way to silence her than bribe money. And in the end, Tracy had become one of the best friends Emma had had in a long time.

“Yeah,” Tracy went on. “I can’t explain it. I just feel like there’s a story here.”

“Let me know what it is if you find it,” Emma said.

Anything else she would have added vanished from her thoughts as they turned a corner and reached the hotel’s front door just as Prince Arne walked through the entrance. He’d been hot at Heathrow, but in the last hour and a half he’d cleaned up even more. He now wore an impeccable black suit that highlighted his dark hair and tanned skin, and a blue tie that brought out the gray in his eyes. He’d shaved, and his hair was perfectly combed. The sight of him sent shivers down Emma’s spine that pooled in the best possible spot.

“Emma,” he greeted her with a smile, nodding to Tracy as well. “You look great.”

“I was just thinking the same thing about you, Your Highness.”

He made a modest sound and shook his head. “Call me Arne. That’s what all my friends call me.” He reached her and offered his arm.

Emma took it, sending Tracy a victorious look. She felt like a princess as he swept her toward the door. “Don’t wait up,” Emma told Tracy with a grin.

“I should say the same to you. You don’t know where I’ll end up tonight,” Tracy replied.

Emma laughed, then blushed as she glanced sideways to Arne. “Tracy is my….” She stopped, mouth open. She couldn’t very well admit Tracy was her assistant. That would come too close to revealing who she was. And judging by the way Arne looked at her, he still didn’t have a clue. “My friend,” she finished.

“I see.” His smile widened, and a mischievous spark lit his eyes. “I remember her from Heathrow.”

“You do?”

He didn’t have a chance to answer. They passed through the hotel doors to find a sleek, silver sports car—one of the handmade Italian types that Emma knew nothing about, except that they were exclusive. Arne held the door for her, then walked around to hop into the driver’s seat.

“You’re a prince and you drive your own car?”

He laughed. “I’m a prince, so I get to drive this car,” he clarified. “Besides, we’re not going far. Just down to the marina.”

“That sounds delightful. I saw it from the window, and I was impressed.”

“Solrig Bay is one of the finest features of Aegiria,” he explained as he put the car in gear and headed out to the road. “As the myth goes, after a fierce battle, the Norse god of the sea, Aegir, lay down to rest in the sunniest, warmest spot he could find. ‘Solrig’ means ‘sunny’. When his nap was over, he got up to go about his business, but forgot his helmet. The helmet promptly turned into fertile land, which was eagerly colonized by the Danes. Solrig Bay is supposedly one of the eye-holes of the helmet, and Måneskin Harbor, which is just over that ridge there—” He pointed to the line of low hills that rose to the west. “—is the other eye-hole. The ridge is supposedly the nose-plate.”

“That’s fascinating,” Emma said, glancing around in awe. “I know so little about this part of the world.”

“Where are you from?” he asked, turning onto a street that sloped down toward the harbor. “I mean, America, obviously. But it’s such a big country, and every part of it that I’ve been to is so different it could be a whole different country.”

Emma’s gut clenched at the thought of telling him something as simple as where she was from, so she took the out he gave her. “What parts of America have you traveled to?”

With only the slightest hesitation, he answered, “I travel to New York fairly frequently for arts events, but I’ve spent a fair amount of time in San Francisco, some time in Chicago, and I’ve been to Florida, Atlanta, parts of Texas, and Maine.”

“Wow. You’ve almost traveled more than I have.” At least more than she had before surrendering her life to Fuchsia.

He sent a quick smile her way before making another turn. “So where are you from again?”

Heat rose to Emma’s face. She was right back where she started. “Near Springfield, Illinois,” she answered, then scrambled to think of another way to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“Before moving to Philadelphia to attend Curtis?” he asked.

“Yep.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “So obviously you must have traveled to Philly too, since you mentioned you’ve heard the Curtis Symphony Orchestra in concert.”

“I have.” He smiled. “I love those—what are they called—cheesesteak sandwiches they have.”

“Oh my gosh, me too,” Emma laughed. “Philly has some amazing foods. Did you get a chance to eat at Federal Donuts while you were there?”

“No, what’s that?”

“Only the best donuts in the entire world.”

Emma breathed an inward sigh of relief as they spent the rest of the drive talking about Philly’s finest spots for food and drinks. The conversation convinced her that she might just be able to pull the whole dating a prince without giving away who she really was thing after all. She could talk about food until the cows came home, which proved extra handy when they reached the discreet, yet lavish, restaurant that stood on the end of a pier looking out over the crystal-blue waters of Solrig Bay.

“This place is lovely,” she said as Arne escorted her through the front door and straight to a table nestled in a secluded alcove. “I guess you have to call ahead for a place like this.”

“It helps if your family governs the land on which the restaurant sits,” Arne added with a whisper as he pulled out a chair to help her sit.

Emma’s cheeks glowed pink, both with the gesture and with the wonder of sitting across a beautifully decorated table from real royalty with an astounding view just to her left. As Fuchsia, she had a world of luxury open to her, but the character didn’t allow her to take advantage of any of it. She could count the number of times Emma Sands had had an experience like the one she was having now on one hand and still have fingers left over.

They ordered, and as soon as their server brought wine, Arne leaned back in his chair, studying her with a thoughtful look. “So how long have you been wrapped up with Fuchsia?”

She almost snorted wine at the way he asked the question. “It feels like ages now,” she answered.

“And what exactly do you do for her? How many assistants does she have?”

Again, Emma was ready to thank the sea god Aegir for Arne half-answering his own question and giving her a way to keep her secret at the same time.

“She has a whole crew of assistants, stylists, bodyguards, and whatnot who follow her wherever she goes. Keeping up appearances is a full-time job in the music industry these days. No one is just an act anymore, they’re an entire brand, a mini-industry.”

Even that was saying too much, but Arne merely hummed in response. “Do you ever get time off?”

The way he looked at her as he asked made Emma blush down to her toes. The unmistakable zing of sexual attraction combined with the fact that she found him charming and intelligent sent a delicious buzz through her.

“You know what they say,” she said over the top of her wine glass as she prepared to take another sip. “No rest for the wicked.” She arched an eyebrow as she took a sip.

“None at all,” he answered, just as flirty. He had the most gorgeous eyes. They were grey and almond-shaped. The spark of intelligence behind them was matched by the smoldering fire of desire.

Nothing, not the thrill of taking the stage or the swell of applause from ten thousand screaming fans, was as exciting as having an intelligent man look at her and want her.

Their food arrived a short time later, putting a gourmet dent in the sparks flying between them.

“This is the most delicious salmon I think I’ve ever had,” she commented, then paused to savor a bite.

“It’s an Aegirian delicacy,” Arne explained. “We’ve always been an agrarian and fishing nation, which means we’re amazing in the kitchen.” The way he said it hinted that there was another room Aegirians were equally amazing in.

“I read something recently about the trouble fisherman in the North and Baltic Seas are having,” she went on, remembering the article Tracy had insisted she read on the way from Newark to Heathrow. “Is it really true that the native fish population could be gone by 2048?”

Arne’s expression grew serious. “Unfortunately, it’s a possibility. Unless we do something about it. Between overfishing and illegal oil-drilling, the fish population has real problems.”

Emma blinked. “How can you have an illegal oil-drill? Aren’t those things, uh, big?”

“So is the sea,” Arne said with a wry grin. “The vastness of the ocean can hide all sorts of secrets.”

Even though she was ninety percent sure he was just flirting, a shiver of wariness passed down Emma’s spine. Maybe he did have a clue who she really was after all. Hoss would have a fit it he blurted it out.

She set her fork down and met his eyes across the table. “So, um, I just want to make sure that we’re on the same page about…secrets.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow as if intrigued.

“Yeah.” She drew the syllable out, not sure how to approach the truth. “I gathered from that phone conversation that this concert is important to you,” she began, not sure how she would finish.

“You know about that, then?” He blinked. “I don’t remember telling anyone.”

It was Emma’s turn to feel out of her depth. “Tell anyone what?”

“About the real reason for the concert.”

An awkward silence fell at the table. It was only broken when Arne burst into a laugh and shook his head.

“You were going to say something else, weren’t you?”

“Possibly, but now you have me intrigued.”

“All right.” He leaned toward her across the table. She mirrored him, leaning close enough that only inches separated their faces. “There is a secret behind this concert.”

Emma’s skin prickled, but in spite of the danger of having her alter-ego revealed, all she could look at were his lips, and all she could think about was how nice it would be if he kissed her.

“My mother and Dr. Hayes will be announcing their engagement at the end of the concert,” he whispered.

Emma flinched. That wasn’t what she’d expected. She smiled all the same. “That’s lovely. Your mother and Dr. Hayes. Of course.” She paused. “They looked lovely together at the airport.”

Arne’s brow furrowed slightly. “Did you see them? I thought you were too busy with Fuchsia’s arrangements and things.”

Emma fought to keep the color off her face, but it was a losing battle. She sat back, reaching for her wine. “I stole a peek from the jet,” she said. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was far from being the gospel truth.

“The public doesn’t know about it yet,” Arne said, resuming his normal posture. “I’ll admit, I had my reservations about the whole thing at first, but simply put, I love my family. I want to give Mother a means of making the announcement that’s worthy of her. And I want all Aegirian families to see how important love is.”

“That might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” Emma sighed.

“Which is why we’re planning to ask Fuchsia to help with the announcement after she finishes her set.” He paused. “You don’t think she’ll mind, do you?”

Emma prolonged her sip of wine, then said, “No, I don’t think she will.”

“She seemed a bit….” He shrugged. “High maintenance and showy when I met her. Like the kind of woman who doesn’t like being ordered around. The last thing I need is for someone like her to throw a celebrity hissy-fit when I’m hoping to use the concert as a way to instill values in the young people watching.”

A stab of anger hit Emma square in the gut. “Not all celebrities are like that,” she said, tighter than she meant to be. “And I have it on good authority that Fuchsia cares about children too.”

Arne’s eyebrows lifted, then his expression softened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. Obviously you like your boss.”

Her mind flew straight to Hoss, even though that wasn’t close to what he meant. “There’s a lot more to Fuchsia than meets the eye,” she said, still thinking of Hoss. Specifically, how he’d wring her neck if she revealed too much. “But I don’t want to talk about work. I’m here to get to know you and your beautiful city. Can you tell me more about it?”

“I can tell you our entire history, with social commentary,” he laughed, his eyes back to smoldering. “Do you really want to know all that?”

“Of course,” she answered. “I’ve never been here before. Honestly, I didn’t even know about it, and I consider myself fairly well-educated.”

“We were a principality of Norway up until the thirteenth century,” Arne explained, settling into what felt like a sexy professor mode, “when Magnus Haraldsson was granted the island as payment for services to the crown. Of course, he then set himself up as king and declared independence. Good old King Haakon IV Haakonsson didn’t care much for that and sent a fleet to oust Magnus, but the people of the island loved their new ruler and banded together to defend their turf.”

“Successfully, I gather,” Emma said.

“Very successfully.”

They spent the rest of the evening talking about Arne’s ancestors and the amazing things they’d done to build up the Kingdom of Aegiria. Emma found it remarkable that there was still a place in the world that was legitimately ruled by a monarchy, but from the sound of things, Arne’s grandfather had modernized the kingdom’s form of government, giving a lot more participation to its citizens at all levels.

Mostly, though, she was just happy to listen to Arne talk. He was so different from every guy she’d ever known, especially in the last few years, since Fuchsia’s career had taken off. He wasn’t interested in getting her to spill insider secrets from the music business, and while he did have a distinct air of wanting to get into her pants, it wasn’t in order to add her as a celebrity notch on his bedpost, or any of the other, slimy reasons men usually hit on her. And dangerous as it was, as the evening came to an end and Arne walked her back out to his car, she found herself wracking her brain for ways to invite him up to her hotel room without causing an international incident.

“Well, I had a lovely time,” she finally said once they’d returned to the hotel and he’d walked her inside. No matter which way she looked at it, though, the lobby was where the night had to end. Even there, she spotted two of Fuchsia’s bodyguards, three people who could have been reporters, and a young woman with her phone pointed at them and a look of awe on her face. Although it took her a second to realize Arne was her intended target. All the same, she didn’t want him to end up in the papers with headlines like “Prince Has Secret Rendezvous with Mystery Woman”.

Arne must have noticed their observers too. “Let me walk you to the elevator,” he said with a twinkle in his eye and a hint of mischief in his voice.

Emma grinned like a lunatic as he took her arm and escorted her to the express elevator at the end of the lobby. People were definitely watching them, which made slipping into the elevator and pushing the button to get the doors to close that much more exciting.

As soon as the elevator began swooshing up, Arne pressed the stop button.

“I’d like to see you again,” he said with a heated smile.

“I’d like that too,” Emma answered before she could second-guess herself.

His smile widened, then turned sheepish. “This might sound silly, but I’m supposed to attend a student concert at the Aegirian Institute of Music tomorrow night. Would you like to come with me?”

Emma’s heart swelled with happiness. “That sounds fantastic.”

“Can I pick you up at six, then?”

“Oh.” She hadn’t looked at Fuchsia’s schedule for the next day. Sneaking out as herself once was one thing, but pulling the same stunt again, especially if Hoss had some kind of appearance or press event planned for her, was another entirely. “I have to see if I’m needed for work,” she said carefully.

“You have my number,” he said, then slid closer, sliding his hands over her waist. “Use it.”

He leaned in, slanting his mouth over hers. The heat of his kiss went to her head faster than the wine that she tasted on his lips. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him, thrilling at the strong, lean muscles of his torso. Her senses went wild as he nibbled on her lower lip and ran his tongue along hers. She responded just as sensually, letting her hand drop lower on his back than it should have. He responded with a feather-light brush of his hand against her breast.

An instant later, he stepped back, taking a deep breath. “I think we’d better stop there,” he said, his voice rough, reaching back to press the button that sent the elevator rocketing up again.

The swooping sensation in Emma’s gut was from far more than the elevator. “Probably best,” she gasped.

Their eyes met, and without hesitation, they swayed back into an embrace. But their lips had only brushed before the elevator doors slid open with a ding like ice water poured down her back.

“I really do need to go,” she said, breathless, stepping backward into the hall. “Jet lag and all.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” he answered, fire in his eyes. The elevator dinged again, and the doors started to slide shut. “Call me,” he managed to say before they clicked together.

Emma let out a breath and sagged against the opposite wall. Her knees felt like butter and her girly bits like lava. It was the most amazing and most inconvenient thing that possibly could have happened to her.