Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire Series Book 3) Read online

  “It’ll depend on my filming schedule.”

  Rachelle took a deep breath and leapt. “Why do you keep making those films if you hate being Water Bear Man?”

  Eric withdrew his hand but didn’t turn away. “Do you know how many people I employ? I’m not even sure I do anymore.”

  Since he’d opened the door to asking, Rachelle did. “Eric, who is Reggie?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s obvious he’s more than an electrician.”

  “He’s my friend. When I needed someone, he was there for me. I know he’s hiding his wife and kids in the east wing. I don’t even care—I’d gift him the whole damn house if I thought he could afford to maintain it. He’s the only person I trust.”

  That last part wasn’t easy to hear, but Rachelle couldn’t let the moment become about her. It was good to hear that Eric had someone he trusted. “Maybe you should tell him you’re okay with his family living there.”

  “No, if I do that, everyone will want to move their kids in. Some things are better left not discussed. Reggie only moved them in when his wife lost her job, so I gave him a raise. He could afford a new place now, but his kids like the pool. They’re also doing well in school.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Does everyone with money think privacy for others is optional?”

  “Knowledge is power. You weren’t raised with money, Rachelle, but now that you’ve been in the public eye, you’ll have to learn how to protect yourself. When we were young, I thought it was cruel of Mom to not allow you access to your money, but now I see the wisdom in it. Never again will you know if people like you for who you are or for what is in your bank account. Some will want to get close to you because they want to use you—others will see you as competition and will befriend you long enough to learn your weaknesses. It will affect every friendship you have, every potential relationship. Go back into hiding, Rachelle, if it’s not already too late. Otherwise, every move you make, every word you say, will be dissected and judged by people who will find you wanting. You can try to ignore it, but eventually, like slow-drip torture, it will change the way you see yourself.”

  Oh, Eric. “You sound as lost as I feel.”

  He grimaced. “I’m fine.” He looked across the plane at Magnus, who was standing, speaking to one of his men. “Be careful with him, Rachelle. I don’t trust him.”

  It wasn’t surprising, considering what he’d just shared about trusting anyone. “At least he’s not after my money. He runs several companies as well as his country.”

  Eric’s eyebrows rose with humor. “And how do you know that?”

  “I did a Google search on him.” Rachelle defended herself with a smile. “It’s totally different.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Rachelle playfully slugged his arm just as she would have with Spencer. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to be less quick to judge.” Eric laughed, and the sound warmed Rachelle’s heart. She couldn’t help but add, “Please make it to Spencer’s wedding. You don’t know how much it will mean to him.”

  “I doubt that. We’re not exactly a close family, are we?”

  Rachelle swallowed hard before answering. “We could be. I barely knew Brett before he made an effort to be part of our lives again. It was painfully awkward at first—”

  “Like this.”

  “Exactly like this. Maybe even worse. I didn’t like his timing with Alisha. Spencer was still fake-engaged to her when he found out that Mark was his real father. I didn’t see why he and Alisha couldn’t wait for the dust to settle, and I was pretty vocal about it.”

  “The heart wants what the heart wants, I guess.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been in love. I thought I was, but those relationships never lasted very long. How about you?”

  “No. I gave up on fairy tales like that around the same time I stopped believing in Santa Claus. Or in family.”

  That last part nearly gutted Rachelle. So many trite retorts came to mind, but she dismissed them. Eric needed something solid. “A year ago I would have said you and Spencer were cut from the same cloth. He was angry with all of us—especially Brett, Delinda, and Dad. The damage seemed irreparable, but they’re all at least talking now. They still have issues, but Brett says family is his first priority, and that has gone a long way to mending bridges.”

  “Brett definitely drank Delinda’s Kool-Aid. I can spend about two minutes with him before I remember why we don’t talk anymore.”

  Someone else might have asked Eric why he called their grandmother by her first name, but Rachelle knew. She was a far cry from being a cookie-baking, kiss-your-boo-boo-when-you’re-hurt grandmother. “Alisha has definitely softened Brett. If he hadn’t been so busy at his wedding, you would have seen that side of him.”

  “I grew up with Brett. Trust me, I’ve seen all the sides of him I can stomach for one lifetime.”

  “That makes me sad to hear, Eric. I wish you had reached out to us. Why didn’t you come to Mom’s?”

  “Why didn’t you want to go to Dad’s?”

  Rachelle nodded. “I didn’t feel like I fit in there.” Rachelle finished her wine in one gulp. “If you’d known him, you would have liked Mom’s second husband. Mark had a way of making everyone feel special. He would have done anything for us—even Alisha, who practically grew up at our house. When I don’t know what to do, I still ask myself what he would have done.”

  “As long as it’s not a matter of honoring someone else’s marriage . . .”

  Rachelle winced at that jaded, yet accurate, jab at a man she’d been closer to than her biological father and had more respect for, even though he’d been with her mother while she was still married. “Mark was a good man who proved his love for us time and time again. He wasn’t perfect, but maybe that’s another lesson he came into our lives to teach us. You don’t have to be perfect to be able to bring good into the world. I wouldn’t be who I am today if I hadn’t known him. And every time I think about giving up on someone, I remember that he wouldn’t have, and I open my heart to them one more time.”

  “How’s that working out for you?”

  His sarcasm stung, but with the memory of Mark fresh in her mind, Rachelle knew what to say. “It brought me to London to see you. It kept me there even though you wouldn’t answer my calls. And now we’re on a trip together to help a child and actually talking about things that matter. So I’d say it’s working out pretty damn well.”

  “What are you going to do when you realize I’m too fucked-up for you to want in your life?”

  Tears sprang back to blur her vision. “What are you going to do when you realize that we’re all fucked-up but that we’re better off together than apart? You’re my brother, Eric. On your best days and on your worst days—that doesn’t change. Nor does the fact that I love you.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “I do.” She sniffed. “I believe you love me, too, because I’m pretty fucking wonderful once you get to know me.”

  Eric chuckled. “How could I not love you? You’re every bit as crazy as I am.”

  “I’ll accept that, even though it was a bit backhanded.” Rachelle wiped away a tear before it fell. “Would you like to hear how Magnus and I met?” She retold everything from standing still on the red carpet to hiding in the alley and brainstorming porno titles with Alisha. Normally she would have avoided the embarrassing parts, but Eric looked genuinely entertained, and it was good to see him smiling. She even told Eric about how she’d chewed Magnus out in private that morning, right down to how she’d poked her finger into his chest. The only part she left off was that Magnus had told her how he’d found Eric. Their connection was still too fragile for that.

  When she finished, Eric smiled at Magnus and waved to him but kept his voice low enough so that his comment would only reach Rachelle’s ears. “I was concerned for you, but maybe I should be for him. H
e has no idea who he’s dealing with.”

  “Shh, don’t warn him,” Rachelle joked.

  “Oh, I won’t. Something tells me you’re exactly what he deserves.”

  “Yeah, well, here’s what you deserve.” Rachelle playfully slugged him on the arm again, then burst into laughter that was a welcome release of tension. He joined in.

  Magnus retook the seat across from them, and Rachelle smiled at him. He might not want more than a one-night stand with her and he’d called her a hot mess, but if it wasn’t for him, she still might not know where Eric was. She definitely wouldn’t know what Eric was struggling with or have a shot at being part of his support system. Her heart was bursting with gratitude, and it only heightened how intensely she was drawn to him.

  For a moment she forgot they were not alone and let herself get lost in the desire in his eyes. It was too easy to remember the taste of him, the feel of his lips parting hers. For anyone beyond middle school, what they’d shared sexually had been tame, but it didn’t feel that way. It felt decadent. The memory of his touch had her body warming, and craving more.

  His cheeks flushed ever so slightly, making her wonder if he sensed where her thoughts had taken her. On impulse, she winked, and he coughed as if someone had sucker punched him.

  He really does want me.

  Wow.

  I was wrong. I may be that grateful.

  Chapter Nine

  Holding true to most of his promise to Eric, Magnus arranged for their arrival in Vandorra to be unannounced. They’d landed at the private airfield of one of the smaller royal residences an hour away from Finn’s hospital. Both Eric and Rachelle had retired to their rooms shortly after arrival. Rather than confine himself to the home’s office, Magnus took his laptop to a table on a balcony that overlooked the lush gardens and pool.

  He was in the middle of answering an e-mail regarding a policy change he’d proposed when he felt Rachelle’s presence. Rather than turn around to immediately confirm her arrival, he took a moment to appreciate how his senses came alive for her. Being that aware of someone else was a novel experience.

  She moved closer, and he could no longer fight the need to see her. He stood and turned to face her. She’d changed into simple white cotton shorts and a blue T-shirt. Free of makeup and shoes, with her hair hanging loose down her shoulders, he thought she’d never looked more beautiful. “Are you busy?” she asked, the hesitation in her voice revealing she didn’t know that in that moment he was powerless to deny her anything.

  He closed his laptop without taking his eyes off her. “Just finished.”

  She smiled. “It’s about tomorrow.”

  He motioned toward the steps. “Why don’t we walk as we talk?” Otherwise we may end up making love right on this table. He flipped a switch, and the garden below became illuminated by decorative light posts.

  She fell into step beside him. Once on a path in the garden, he offered her his arm. She tucked her hand around it, and the connection felt right. Another woman might have come to him in an outfit designed to turn him on. Or already have started to flirt outrageously with him. Female companionship came easily to a man with a title. Magnus was a healthy male in his prime. He’d accepted more of those appetizing offers than he cared to admit, but he couldn’t remember any holding his attention for long. What was the old saying? Familiarity breeds contempt? For Magnus, it bred boredom.

  Rachelle holds my attention with ease. Is it because we haven’t been together yet? His gut told him she wouldn’t be a one-night stand. Once would not be enough to know her the way he wanted to.

  “I love this! It’s an edible garden, isn’t it? Funny, it didn’t look it from far away, but these are mostly vegetable plants.”

  “My mother called it a kitchen garden, even though she didn’t cook.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve seen beautiful gardens and I’ve seen vegetable gardens, but this mixture of colors and textures with the burst of flowers here and there—it’s dazzling. I can’t wait to see it in the light of day.”

  Her comment pleased him. “My mother put a great deal of planning into the design. She studied in France as a child and said it gave her an appreciation for all that is beautiful as well as useful. She often said we cheat ourselves when we choose one over the other.”

  “She sounds like she was an amazing woman.”

  “She was.”

  “How did she—I mean, if you don’t mind my asking . . .”

  “She was born with a weak heart valve. It never held her back, but it did take her from us too early.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. She is never far from my thoughts, therefore never far from me.” It was something Magnus had once heard his father say about his deceased wife. Magnus had never repeated it, but he realized in that moment that it was also how he felt.

  “That’s beautiful, and how I feel about my mother’s second husband.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “Funny thing about small planes—sound carries better than you’d think.”

  She froze beside him. “You heard my conversation with Eric.”

  “We all heard it.”

  She closed her eyes as if remembering all she’d said. “Oh my God. You should have said something.”

  He shrugged. “What you were saying was too important to be interrupted. Except perhaps the last part about how we met. I don’t believe you have my accent down when you do your impression of me.”

  She opened her eyes, looking pained. “And all your men were there. I’m so sorry.”

  He tipped her chin upward and ran his thumb lightly over her parted lips. “Stop apologizing all the time. It’s not necessary. Do I look upset?”

  She shook her head slightly, and desire once again lit her eyes. He much preferred that expression. “But your men—”

  “Would not dare to have an opinion regarding a moment from my private life.” He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. “And I must admit, the story becomes more entertaining each time you retell it.” People usually presented themselves in whatever way they thought would be most advantageous to them. Rachelle was refreshingly real.

  She smiled then, relaxing against him. “Every time I think I know what to expect from you, you surprise me again.”

  “I could easily say the same about you. You are many things, Rachelle, but boring is not one of them.”

  She ran her hand over his chest in a light caress. “You might not say that if you knew me. My life back home was a quiet one. I taught six-year-olds all day, hit the gym most evenings, and spent a lot of time with my family. Before this trip, I hadn’t even left the United States.”

  “And yet you came alone.”

  “Yes.”

  He kissed her then but kept it gentle and in control. She was a remarkable woman, and there was no need to rush. When she came to his bed, he wanted it to be completely without fear or regret. She melted against him, and his need for her challenged his decision to go slowly. Reluctantly he broke off the kiss while he still had the strength to.

  They stood in each other’s arms, breathing heavily. He remembered how boldly he’d spoken to her the first time he’d met her. It hadn’t seemed to scare her. Despite being alone with him in a secluded garden in his country, she didn’t appear intimidated by him at all. She might not consider herself daring, but she had a natural strength.

  A man could make a partner of such a woman.

  He frowned at where his thoughts wandered. A night with her—even a prolonged affair—was all he was looking for.

  Wasn’t it?

  He stepped back and offered her his arm again while chastising himself for bringing her to his mother’s favorite weekend escape rather than a more appropriate and less personal hotel. Rachelle was the first woman he’d brought here, and he didn’t like what that implied.

  Rather than taking his arm again, she searched his face. “What’s wrong?�
� Rachelle Westerly surprised him. There were few in his daily orbit who took the time to read him. Her ability to read his disposition was disconcerting.

  “Nothing.”

  She hugged her arms to her stomach. “Now that’s an answer I no longer accept. It never mattered how bad things got in my family, they always said things were fine. They weren’t, though. If there’s a problem, just say it. I’d rather dig in and try to fix something than pretend it’s not there.”

  Okay. “I like you.”

  “That’s the problem?”

  His shoulders tensed. He wasn’t one who opened up to people easily. “I enjoy your company more than I thought I would.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “It is for me. If I have any intention beyond bedding you, I’m doing this wrong. You’re currently a joke in the media. If it gets out that I’ve also made you my lover, it’ll be another hit to your reputation, even though substantial damage has been done already.”

  “Wow, okay, remember when I asked for honesty? Feel free to deliver it in a way that’s less of a kick to the groin.”

  Her turn of phrase amused, but the situation did not. “I care about your public image.”

  “Because?”

  He frowned again. I should have just kept kissing her. What am I doing here? “Because I don’t want to see you hurt by your affiliation with me.”

  She smiled then. “You’re concerned about me. Despite all that tough talk, you’re a worrier, just like me.”

  “We could not be less alike.”

  She lowered her lashes, then gazed up at him from beneath them. “You’re a big softie, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t have to be embarrassed about it. It’s actually really sexy.”

  “Really?” That piqued his interest.

  “Definitely. I’ll admit that when I first met you, I thought you were attractive. I mean, all the ‘I will have you’ stuff was sexy, but I would never have slept with that man.”

  “No?”

  “No, all he cared about was himself. Then you told me about Finn, and I saw how hard you fought to help my brother, and I thought, Now there’s a real man.” She went up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips across his.