CHAPTER FIVE
Emma walked into the gallery with the thought that she finally understood the expression, “walking on eggshells.” For one thing her high-heeled boots thrust her into a balancing act. For another, Keane Moss was famously hot tempered and he was bound to be somewhat wound up from the excitement of the opening even before he discovered she was absconding with one of the artists.
“Keane,” Darias called out to him as they entered. The show would open in about fifteen minutes, and caterers were fussing over champagne and miniature pastries. “I believe you’ve met my fiancée.”
Keane shone his brightest social smile on her, then seemed to be searching his brain for something.
“It’s me, Emma,” she finally said. Did she look so different?
He lifted up his reading glasses. “Good God.” He looked at Darias. “Am I missing something?”
“We’re announcing our engagement tonight. Rather a whirlwind affair.” He shot her a conspiratorial glance. Adrenaline surged through her at the memory that she couldn’t tell anyone about their plan.
Ever.
“How long have you two known each other?” Keane looked from one to the other, and at the big rock on her finger, blinking.
“Forever,” said Darias, before she had time to form a thought. She realized that they probably should have some story made up. “I’ve been half in love with her all my life.”
Apparently Darias didn’t have any problem making up nonsense on the fly. Another reason to be wary of him.
Keane tipped his head to one side, and his silver mane flopped sideways. “Now that I know the background, I can see the influence in your latest series.”
Now it was her turn to blink. She snuck a glance over her boss’s shoulder at the huge triptych of canvases on the wall behind him. A slender female form was dimly visible, emerging from a dark background in the canvas on the far right.
“Absolutely,” said Darias.
“Well, you are a dark horse.” Keane pocketed his reading glasses. “I wish you’d said something earlier. I’m sure I could have got the LA Times to come.”
“We prefer to keep things low-key,” said Darias, with a warm glance at her that made her heart jump. If she didn’t know better, even she might be convinced that he was madly in love with her.
Now Keane fixed his beady stare on her. “I imagine this means I’ll be losing you as my desk girl.”
She shrugged and tried to look apologetic. “We are moving abroad.”
“Of course you are. Well, congratulations, my dear.” Her boss leaned in and kissed her on both cheeks as if she were a wealthy patron, rather than a low-paid dogsbody. His cologne assaulted her nostrils, and she tried not to sneeze. “I do hope I’ll be invited to the wedding.”
Once the guests started to arrive, Keane introduced everyone to the newly engaged couple as if they were his special scoop. Darias threaded his arm through hers, which was both alarming and invigorating.
Emma managed to keep a bright smile on her face and act like she wasn’t every bit as surprised as they were by this new turn of events. She really wished they could take a quick break and discuss the story of where and how they met, but Darias didn’t seem at all fazed by all the questions so she just let him handle it.
She was merely a paid employee in this situation, after all.
A couple of local tabloids showed up and took pictures. A reporter peppered her with questions, and she told the truth. “Yes, I never dreamed I would marry a prince.” And: “I hope I can rise to the challenge of being queen.” The whole thing was so surreal that she began to wonder if it was some kind of crazy anxiety dream and she was about to wake up in her own bed.
“We’re leaving now, Keane. Early flight tomorrow.” Darias’s words sent a shudder of relief through her whole overwrought body.
Keane beamed. “We’ve sold more than half the show already. I suppose I’ll have to forgive you for stealing a valued employee.” He kissed her on both cheeks again. His cheeks were soft as a baby’s bottom. “See you again soon!”
Emma staggered out, clinging to Darias’s arm out of necessity caused by her unaccustomed high heels and a pervasive sense of shock. She didn’t dare speak until they were safely inside his SUV. “Did I do okay? I’m not much of an actress.”
“You were perfect.” A smile stretched his broad mouth. “No one suspected for a moment that I only met you yesterday.”
“We really need to get our backstory straight. I think you told one man that we met in France. I’ve never been to France.”
“We’ll have to fix that.” He looked totally unfazed as he pulled out into the dark street. “But you’re right. We need a story that your friends and relatives will believe. What do you suggest?”
She racked her brain. It was hard to come up with ways that one would run across a crowned head of state in New Jersey. “Perhaps we could say that we met in Central Park. Maybe a few years ago, when I was still in college, and that we’ve kept in touch ever since.”
He laughed. “My last two girlfriends might not like that, but it works for me. And we can say we reconnected last Christmas when we met at a party—I was single by then—then fell madly in love.”
She nodded. “That works. But why haven’t I met any of your friends?” She pondered a moment. “I didn’t want to go out much as I was still grieving the loss of my mom. That part is true. She passed just before Christmas last year.”
“I’m very sorry to hear about your mom.” The compassion in his voice touched her.
“Me, too. But I’m glad she’s not suffering anymore. She’d really appreciate what you’re doing for Jonas.” She wondered how her brother was getting on at The Fountains. They’d told her not to visit for at least a week.
“I’m glad I could help. It seems we came into each other’s lives at just the right time.”
She gasped when Darias opened the door to his loft. The battered steel door had left her totally unprepared for the extreme expanse of space it opened into. Aged-wood flooring stretched a good two hundred feet, with only a small island of modernist furniture over to one side. Tall paintings, some of them half finished, stretched along one wall.
“My studio. I like to live surrounded by my work.” He bolted the door and set an alarm. “I’ll miss this space.”
He led her into an enclosed corner where a door opened to reveal a minimalist bedroom with a low bed and a night table that looked like a slice from an ancient tree. “It’s late. We should get some sleep. The pilot will be ready for a dawn departure.”
There was only one bed. “Uh, should I sleep on the sofa?”
“Sleeping in the same bed will be necessary to convince people we are man and wife.” He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it in the closet. Omigosh. Is he just going to undress right in front of me?
“We’re not man and wife yet. I barely know you.” Her heart pounded. “Can we start a little slow?”
He looked amused. “Of course. Sandro tells me I’m far too matter-of-fact.” He indicated the bed. “You sleep here, and I’ll take the sofa. We can even sleep in separate rooms at the palace until the wedding. We can tell them you’re traditional.” His eyes twinkled. “My mother will like that. And after the wedding, of course, I’ll be gentle with you.” His mouth hitched slightly.
Adrenaline spiked through her. “Be gentle with me? We’re not going to—” Her brain raced. “You never said anything about sex.”
“It’s true.” He looked wistful. “I never did.” His dark eyes drifted over her face, sparking heat and desire that frightened her.
If she had sex with him, it would be hard to keep her feelings under tight control. There was a reason they called it making love. “We’re just pretending to be married, so there’s no reason for that pretense to continue behind closed doors.”
“In olden times the whole family would wait outside the young couple’s bedroom for proof that the marriage was consummated and the new bride was still a virgin.”
She shivered. “I hope times have changed. Besides, I’m not a virgin.”
“Luckily, that’s no longer a requirement.” He grinned, mischievous. “I guess I’m fortunate you don’t have a boyfriend to break up with.”
“I don’t have time for dating.”
“You must have men following you everywhere.”
“Not really.” She shrugged. “My friend Liz said I come across as an ice queen.”
“A queen, certainly.” He chuckled. “I can see that men would be intimidated by you.”
“Not you, though, apparently.”
“No.” Laughter danced in his eyes. “Not me. But for tonight I’ll take the sofa. My friends from abroad sleep on it all the time so I’m told it’s comfortable.”
“I appreciate it.” She waited for him to leave. Was he just going to stand there? Or maybe strip naked and then stroll out? Heat flashed over her at that last prospect. “Do you need me to leave so you can get what you need?”
“Oh, you want privacy. I’ll just brush my teeth.”
And grab your pajamas. She hoped he had some. She wasn’t ready to see that tall, broad-shouldered physique naked. Not just yet. She needed some time to prepare herself for that—and all the other strange new experiences coming her way.
“The sheets are clean. The maid came this morning.”
“Great. Thanks.” She should be relieved that the sheets wouldn’t bear his intoxicating man scent. She wasn’t ready to spend the night with that either.
He finally left and closed the door behind him, and she changed into her sleep shirt as fast as she could in case he came back for something. His bed was insanely comfortable, a huge change from her lumpy secondhand mattress she’d put out by the curb today. She hadn’t even told her landlady she was moving yet.
She didn’t sleep a wink last night and now she was so overtired she could barely see straight, but her brain wouldn’t settle down.
She drew in a deep breath. Jonas was safely at The Fountains, she was heading out on an adventure, and she’d just have to take this journey one step at a time.
“It’s time to get ready.” Darias’s deep voice roused her from a deathlike sleep. It took her a few moments to figure out who he was and where she was.
“I’ll be ready in a moment.” She needed a shower to wake her up, and after checking that the bathroom door locked, she took one with water so hot it made her skin red. She dressed in a designer casual outfit of gray jeans and a soft, patterned shirt, with some cute ankle boots. It was easy to look good with this kind of expensive wardrobe.
Darias looked at her with approval when she stepped out of the bedroom. “As we fly I’ll tell you more about my family.” They’d gotten sidetracked last time he’d started.
She nodded. “I’ve met your brother Sandro, and you mentioned your twin, Beatriz.”
His steady brown gaze unnerved her slightly. “I have other brothers and sisters. There are seven more of them.”
“Seven?” She stared, panic flaring through her. How could she remember that many names?
He simply smiled. “Let’s go.”