Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire Series Book 3) Read online

  ALSO BY RUTH CARDELLO

  WESTERLY BILLIONAIRE SERIES

  Up for Heir

  In the Heir

  LONE STAR BURN

  Taken, Not Spurred

  Tycoon Takedown

  Taken Home

  Taking Charge

  THE LEGACY COLLECTION

  Maid for the Billionaire

  For Love or Legacy

  Bedding the Billionaire

  Saving the Sheikh

  Rise of the Billionaire

  Breaching the Billionaire: Alethea’s Redemption

  Recipe for Love (Holiday Novella)

  A Corisi Christmas (Holiday Novella)

  THE ANDRADES

  Come Away with Me

  Home to Me

  Maximum Risk

  Somewhere Along the Way

  Loving Gigi

  THE BARRINGTONS

  Always Mine

  Stolen Kisses

  Trade It All

  A Billionaire for Lexi

  Let It Burn

  More Than Love

  TRILLIONAIRES

  Taken by a Trillionaire

  Virgin for the Trillionaire

  TEMPTATION SERIES

  Twelve Days of Temptation

  Be My Temptation

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2018 by Ruth Cardello

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781503901742

  ISBN-10: 1503901742

  Cover design by Eileen Carey

  To my sister Judy, who left this planet too early. She is never far from my thoughts, therefore never far from me.

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  Contents

  Westerly Family Tree

  A note to my readers

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Westerly

  Family Tree

  (D): stays with Dereck after the divorce

  (S): stays with Stephanie after the divorce

  A note to my readers

  What is a water bear?

  Water bear bugs (a.k.a. tardigrades) are microscopic eight-legged creatures that live in water and are said to be able to survive even an extinction-level event. They could survive not only without water for thirty years but also in the vacuum of space. They are popular enough in some circles that people sell plush-toy replicas of them.

  I may have to give one to my children this holiday season, just to see their expressions when I do. Water bears—so ugly they’re cute.

  Chapter One

  Rachelle Westerly stopped halfway down a long corridor lined with closed doors. When her brother Eric had said his London home was large enough for her to stay as long as she wanted without it bothering him, she’d thought he was being kind. No, he’d been serious. In the week since Rachelle had arrived, she’d seen him once. His house staff, large and efficient as it was, could never quite tell her his location.

  Having grown up in a modest suburban home outside Boston, Rachelle didn’t know what to think of the majestic seventy-plus-bedroom English estate. Is this what I’d be used to if I had gone with Dad? When her parents divorced, the three youngest children had remained with their mother, who had raised them on a frugal nurse’s salary and taught them the importance of clipping coupons. They’d never been hungry, but they’d all worked and contributed to the family’s budget because their mother considered money the root of all evil. It was—according to her mother—what had torn the family apart.

  If this is hell, it has a remarkable number of antiques.

  And staff.

  Years of teaching first grade had honed Rachelle’s ability to link faces with names. Not much crushed a child more than forgetting his or her name. Still, Eric had such a large staff that she wondered if anyone knew all of them. Some cleaned, some cooked, some tended to the gardens, while others maintained the vehicles or the buildings. There were several pool cleaners, a security team, and Reggie, the full-time electrician who had given Rachelle a tour of which parts of the estate were not currently safe.

  Who has a house so large parts of it are unsafe to venture into?

  Movie stars.

  When Rachelle had asked Eric about those areas, he’d said renovations were the norm for any estate from the 1800s. Homes that were once built and owned by royalty were now often sold off to “commoners” because the cost of maintaining them was staggering.

  “Then why own one?” Rachelle had asked.

  Eric had shrugged and said, “It seemed a shame to let nature reclaim it. Besides, it’s not like I can’t afford it. You could as well if you asked Dad for your inheritance.”

  “Don’t you mean our grandmother?”

  Eric had shuddered. “There’s not enough money in the world to make asking Delinda for anything worth it. You don’t have to go through her to get to your inheritance. Just ask Dad for a loan. There’s nothing he likes more than writing a check. It’s what he does best.”

  “Is that how you pay for all this?” Rachelle had asked. Getting to know her brother was why she’d come.

  “I wish. No, I pay for it with my privacy and my dignity.”

  The pain she’d seen in his eyes had validated what she’d sensed as she’d spoken to him at their brother Brett’s wedding when she’d found Eric standing off to one side—alone. He might have always been able to afford anything he wanted, but it hadn’t made him happy. It saddened Rachelle to realize that the fame Eric had found on the big screen hadn’t, either.

  Her family teased her for always wanting to mother-hen them, but she couldn’t help it. She worried about people. Every child who had ever occupied a chair in her classroom had left with a piece of her heart. She remembered a veteran teacher once telling her she’d need to toughen up or she’d never make it as a teacher. She hadn’t even tried. If caring too much was wrong, she’d never be right.

  Unfortunately, that pretty much described how her life had been going lately. She was having difficulty reconciling how she’d always see
n herself with how she’d behaved lately. She used to describe herself as caring, honest, confident.

  Recently, if she was honest with herself, the woman in the mirror looked scared and clingy. When her brother Spencer had found out his biological father was their mother’s second husband from an affair she’d had while still married to her first husband, all hell had broken loose in her family. She’d tried to contain the damage, but her efforts had only made it worse, and she’d ended up hurting the very people she loved. Although apologies had been made and forgiveness had been granted, the experience had left Rachelle shaken.

  Every time her mother had stumbled, Rachelle had been there to help pick her up. After the divorce, Rachelle had cared for her youngest sister, Nicolette, and Spencer. When Mark, her mother’s second husband, had gotten ill, Rachelle had helped care for him as well. She’d picked up the parenting slack as much as she could, and she’d never resented the added responsibility. She thought that’s what people did when they loved their family.

  Somehow it had been too much. Like coming here?

  But how could I pretend I didn’t see the yearning in Eric? He wants to find his way back to us.

  Right now I’d be happy to find my way back to my room.

  Or the main foyer.

  The corridor dead-ended at a large double door. Rachelle tried to open it, but it was locked. She jostled it again, more out of frustration than because she thought it might suddenly open.

  “Are you lost again?” Reggie asked from behind her.

  Rachelle spun around. He reminded her of Lurch from The Addams Family, but younger. Tall. Pale. Jet-black hair. She guessed he was not much older than she was—in his early thirties, perhaps. He was American, so Rachelle felt somewhat of an affinity for him, but he was also quite odd. “I thought I saw Eric come this way.”

  “Unlikely. This wing isn’t currently in use, as repairs are scheduled. I’ll show you back to your suite.”

  Rachelle nodded and stepped away from the door. “Do you know where Eric is? I tried to call him, but he never answers his phone.”

  “He’s a busy man. As am I.” He turned and began walking away.

  Rachelle quickened her pace to keep up. His title might be electrician, but there seemed to be more to his role. “The thing is—his premiere is tonight, and I wanted to wish him luck.”

  “You won’t be attending?”

  “I wasn’t invited.” Rachelle groaned at how pathetic that sounded. She hadn’t meant for it to.

  Reggie paused and scanned her face. “Would you like to go?”

  Rachelle could have lied. Her pride would have preferred that option, but of all the staff, Reggie was the only one who seemed willing to talk to her. The rest scuttled away as if speaking with her put their jobs at risk. “I would, but if Eric wanted me there, he would have asked me to go.”

  “You’re here without an invitation, and he seems okay with that. You should go to the premiere.”

  Her pride bruised a bit. Falling into step beside him, Rachelle said, “Eric invited me. He said I could stay as long as I want.”

  “And how long will you be staying?”

  “I haven’t decided.” She frowned. I don’t have to explain myself. And why would an electrician care?

  Because he knows the truth. He was there when I arrived and saw Eric’s initial reaction as clearly as I did. Eric didn’t expect me to take him up on his offer. He hurried to assure me I was welcome, but he doesn’t really want me here.

  Maybe anyone else would go home, but I can’t. Not yet.

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Listen, I love my brother. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken a leave of absence from my job to come here. Maybe I should have waited for him to call back before coming. I might be doing this all wrong, but I love him, and I’m not leaving until I know he’s okay.”

  Reggie arched an eyebrow. “So attending his premiere is what would be too much?”

  Low blow. “I just want to get to know him.”

  Reggie stared at her for an awkwardly long moment; then he smiled for the first time since she’d met him. “Family is important.”

  “Exactly,” Rachelle said with relief. Lurch understands.

  “Go to the premiere.”

  I’ve come this far. Maybe I should.

  Oh my God, what am I going to wear?

  Crown Prince Magnus Gustavus Valentine de Bartelebon looked out the side window of a Rolls-Royce while rubbing his temple in irritation. London had been his stomping ground in his teens, but there was no longer room for foolishness in his life. His father’s health was failing, and whether Magnus wanted it or not, the crown would soon be his.

  His years of freedom, of personal achievement in the business world, were about to come to a crashing halt. King Tadeas had ruled Vandorra with grace and dignity, but it consumed his life. It wasn’t that Magnus didn’t admire his father’s relationship with their people, but Magnus didn’t know if he was capable of taking on that role as well. Few if any of his father’s grand ideas for how to modernize a previously agricultural country would have been put into practice if Magnus hadn’t fought in the trenches for them. Creating employment opportunities to support their growing population required making deals with surrounding countries. Ensuring those deals remained favorable for his people sometimes meant getting his hands dirty.

  At the end of the day, it wasn’t his royal lineage that gave Magnus the upper hand in negotiations, it was his reputation for being ruthless. He was neither proud nor ashamed of what he’d done for his people. His father was an eloquent public speaker who advocated peace and harmony. That kind of idealism was only possible when someone was buffered from the harsh realities of the world by someone without those morals.

  If Magnus could have vomited up a brother who would wear the crown, prance before the paparazzi, and be the politically correct social media figurehead his father hoped Magnus would become, he would gladly abdicate and continue to work for change behind the scenes. What he wouldn’t do, however, was allow his father’s brother and his greedy, half-brained, never-worked-a-day-in-his-life son to assume any power. They would defund the universities and training programs that were his father’s legacy and reallocate the money to their pockets.

  Not while I’m alive.

  Respect for his father, despite their differences, ran deep. When his father had asked him to visit a children’s hospital in his place, Magnus had gone. On the advisement of his business partner, he’d brought clowns. According to his friend Jules, it was preferable to the idea of Magnus attempting to converse with them.

  How was I supposed to know that clowns scare children? I don’t have children. I don’t even like them.

  Once the crying started, Magnus had attempted to stem it by telling the children to stop. They’d cried louder. Magnus had raised his voice above their cries, and only then did silence return.

  Magnus would have left at that point, but he didn’t believe in retreating.

  He’d walked into the room of the nearest child, a young boy who was watching him with enormously rounded eyes. It was then that Magnus noticed the IV in the boy’s arm and the frailness of his frame. It moved Magnus in a way he wasn’t used to. He took a nearby chair and sat next to the boy. His voice was still harsh when he asked, “If you don’t like clowns, what do you like?”

  The boy had visibly swallowed and raised his chin. He was only about ten years old, but he was braver than many of the men Magnus knew. “Water Bear Man.”

  “Who?”

  “You don’t know Water Bear Man? WBM? He’s only the greatest superhero in the world. Nothing can kill him. Nothing scares him. When I grow up, I’m going to be just like him.” The boy’s face tightened. “If I grow up. I need a new heart. We need to find a donor, and then the doctors say even if I do, I may neglect it.”

  A woman walked over and took the boy’s hand in hers. “Reject it,” she corrected softly. “And don’t say that, Finn. Stay positive. We’ll fin
d a donor. All we have to do is believe, and it will happen.”

  “Mom, stop. I don’t need you to lie to me.” For a moment Magnus had found it difficult to breathe as Finn searched his face. “You always say what you think even if it makes people angry with you. Do you think we’ll find a donor?”

  Magnus looked from the pleading eyes of his mother to the solemn eyes of her son. “I don’t know, but I’ll do what I can to see that it happens.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Finn said.

  The doctor at the door had gasped. Finn’s mother wiped tears from her cheek. Finn merely held his gaze and waited. Magnus found himself admiring the young boy more.

  He’s negotiating for something. “What would it take for you to believe me?”

  The boy shrugged and looked away. His fragile shoulders slumped.

  And Magnus felt a flash of uncertainty. He hadn’t come to make any of the children feel worse. His father would have had all of them smiling and hanging on his every word. There had to be something he could say that would bring the boy some comfort.

  Finn looked up suddenly and said, “I want to meet Water Bear Man. Bring him instead of a clown, and I’ll believe you.”

  Magnus had nodded once and stood. “Done.”

  That, of course, had been before he discovered that the actor who played the role didn’t take phone calls, not even from royalty. Had he known then that speaking to a narcissistic Hollywood pretty boy would require attending his premiere, he might have negotiated for something less tedious.

  Chapter Two

  Rachelle slid out of a limo and into a blitz of camera flashes. She was so focused on keeping her knees together and the top of her gown in place that she forgot to smile. Temporarily blinded from one particularly bright flash, she stumbled and grabbed the arm of the driver to steady herself.

  “Is anyone else getting out?” one of the photographers asked.

  “Doesn’t look like it,” someone else answered.

  The flashes stopped.

  “Who is she?”

  “Westerly’s sister? I forget her name. Trust me, she’s nobody.”