Hollywood Heir (Westerly Billionaire #4)(15)

She stepped back and picked up her purse. “Okay, then, let’s go find my next client.”





Chapter Four

Delinda Westerly accepted the hand King Tadeas offered her as she stepped out of a Rolls-Royce in front of her grandson’s estate. Michael, her driver and butler, closed the door behind them. Delinda sighed. “Do you think Eric is here? If not, I’m not looking forward to this visit. I have never in my entire life met anyone so frustrating to converse with as Reggie.”

“I like him,” Michael said.

Delinda narrowed her eyes at him, then steadied herself on the arm the king held out to her. “What about you?”

“I’ll admit he’s an acquired taste, but he did save your granddaughter’s life,” Tadeas said in a tone as neutral as Michael’s.

“Yes, he did.” She shuddered, not wanting to remember the day she’d almost lost Rachelle to a madman and his son. “Eric lets him run his establishment as if it’s his. How do we know he’s not stealing from Eric?”

“We don’t,” Tadeas parried, stepping forward and guiding her along with him. “He did, however, refuse the substantial bribe you offered him. He also fell asleep at the last gala we took him to. He’s certainly not a social climber.”

Delinda shook her head in frustration. “With the prime minister in attendance. It was mortifying.”

Michael trotted up beside her. “Or refreshing. He’s not intimidated by anyone.”

“I doubt he’s intelligent enough to realize he should be,” Delinda snapped.

“Now, now, Del, your anger is misplaced,” Tadeas said.

His words cut through Delinda’s defenses, and her shoulders shook beneath her jacket. “It breaks my heart that Eric won’t see me.”

Tadeas placed his hand over hers on his arm. “I know.”

“We used to be close. Why didn’t he turn to me when he needed help?” She raised her head and blinked back tears. “I don’t care what I have to do to keep him safe. I won’t lose him the way I lost Oliver.”

Tadeas leaned across and kissed Delinda’s temple. “No one should go through what you did. I cannot imagine the pain that must still be in your heart, but Eric is not Oliver. Don’t let your fears cloud that.”

“My fears are justified,” Delinda answered tersely, even though she wanted nothing more than to lean on the man who had taken up residence in London simply because she was there. “If Rachelle hadn’t come to find him . . . if Eric had continued to take that drug—”

“But she did find him, and he went to rehab, Del. He’s going to be okay,” Tadeas said.

“Is he? Then why is he hiding in some awful neighborhood pretending to be someone else? Doesn’t that sound like someone who requires another intervention?” Delinda turned and faced Tadeas. “I’ll stop if you look me in the eye and tell me you’re certain Eric doesn’t need my help.”

The king’s confidence wavered. “I cannot.”

Delinda squared her shoulders and walked away from her two companions. Tadeas fell into step on one side, Michael on the other.

Michael cleared his throat. “Are we here because Miss Revere wouldn’t meet you?”

“Miss Revere?” Tadeas repeated her name slowly. “Who is she?”

Delinda didn’t explain herself as a rule, but Tadeas didn’t ask questions merely out of curiosity. He cared. “Sage Revere. She comes from a horrible family and has attached herself to Eric. My sources tell me—”

“Sources? Are you having Eric watched?” King Tadeas took hold of one of Delinda’s arms and pulled her to a halt. “Did you not learn your lesson with Rachelle? You’ll drive him away if you hold on too tightly.”

Delinda looked down at his hand on her, then met his gaze with fire in her eyes. “The same could be said to you. Kindly remove your hand.”

“I’ll meet you both back at the car,” Michael said as he beat a hasty retreat.

Tadeas rose to his full height but did not release her. “I know you are acting out of love, but that doesn’t mean you can disregard how others feel. Stop. Let Eric find his own way.”

“You speak as if you haven’t shaped your son’s entire life. You dare to tell me how to behave with my own family?”

“I do,” the king said in a low growl that sent a flush to Delinda’s cheeks. Tadeas was still a handsome devil, far too accustomed to getting his own way. “But only because it would please me to see all of your grandchildren at our wedding.”

Delinda flushed. “I’ve told you—I’m too old and too busy to marry again.”

“Then we shall have a long, torrid affair. Either way, Delinda, your place is at my side”—he lowered his voice—“and in my bed.”

Flustered, Delinda flipped her head. “You’re shameless,” she said.

“And you’re gorgeous.” Tadeas pulled her into his embrace with the skill and strength of a much younger suitor. His lips brushed over hers, sending warmth flooding through her.

Delinda raised a hand to caress his cheek as he continued to kiss her. She still wore the wedding band Oliver had given her, and wanting another man felt like a betrayal, but she’d been alone for decades. Only recently had she realized how much of herself she’d buried with her deceased husband.