Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire #3)(18)

“That’s a strange question. Is it because you think I’d somehow stand in the way of your promise to that little boy?”

“Yes,” he said, because denying that would have required an assessment of why he really was asking, and he wasn’t ready to do that.

“We aren’t on opposites sides, Magnus. I love that there’s a little boy out there whose life may be changed simply by meeting my brother. But what do I want?” She paused, and let out an audible breath. “Eric moved to London to build a life away from us. I don’t know why, but I sense he regrets that. I used to think he was naturally aloof, but lately I’ve wondered if he feels . . . abandoned. I’m sorry. I’m sure you don’t want to know all of that, but I’m worried about him. He shouldn’t be alone. I need him to know we’re here for him if he needs us. That’s all I want to say.”

Magnus sat on the arm of the office couch. He was driven by facts and duty. She operated on emotion and instinct. She felt that her brother’s welfare was her responsibility. That motivation he understood.

“I know where he is,” Magnus said.

“You do?” Her voice rose several octaves. “Where?”

“I’ll send a car for you. Be ready in an hour.”

“Ready? Like dressed? I’m already dressed.”

“I mean packed. You and your brother will accompany me back to Vandorra this evening.”

“You’ve spoken to Eric? He’s agreed to go?”

“A car will retrieve you from his home in an hour.” Magnus hung up and called for Phillip.

“Yes?” Phillip inquired from the door.

“Get Westerly up, showered, and dressed. Bring him to me when he’s presentable. His sister will be here in less than two hours. Have a helicopter ready to take us to the airfield. We return to Vandorra tonight.”

“And if Westerly resists?”

“Do your best not to hurt him, but use whatever force is necessary. None of my plan works if he’s dead.”



Rachelle clutched her phone on her lap in the backseat of a Rolls-Royce as it sped beyond the city limits of London. Her stomach was churning nervously, even though she kept assuring herself she’d made the right choice.

She’d almost called home and told her family where she and Eric were headed, but she wanted to tread softer this time. She’d learned that Eric was obsessive when it came to his privacy. Perhaps he didn’t want there to be a chance the press would know where he was going. Of course she wished he’d been the one to tell her he’d decided to do the appearance, but what mattered was that he wanted her to go on this trip with him. It was an opportunity she wasn’t about to pass up—not for all the stomach butterflies in the world.

A little voice in her head kept whispering that something wasn’t right. Perhaps it was the additional man in the front seat. Two drivers?

One to drive and one to make sure I don’t run? She laughed nervously, then squashed the thought.

I’m going on a trip with my brother. There’s nothing scary about this. The additional man is probably in case I had a lot of luggage.

She remembered Magnus’s warning that he would use her if he had to. She shook her head. I have definitely watched too many movies. Instead of wondering what they’d do if I said no to going, I should be glad they asked me to.

She was excited to see Magnus again. Oh, she’d deny it to him, but there was no use lying to herself. It was impossible not to wonder if what she’d felt the night before would still be there.

Would his cocky smile send her heart racing?

Would every innocent touch of his hand inspire instant, filthy fantasies of where she wanted his hands to go?

Was it wrong to want to feel sexy and confident again even if she knew it couldn’t lead to anything? I’ll be back in my old life soon enough—I just want one more taste of how it feels to want someone that much.

And hopefully when I go home, I can find a sweet, humble, normal man who makes me feel the same way.

The crowded city streets gave way to winding, tree-lined roads. “How far is it?” she asked the driver.

“Five minutes more, ma’am,” the man said.

“Does Prince Magnus own a home there?”

“I believe the home he’s staying at belongs to a duke.”

“I’m surprised the prince didn’t choose to stay in the city. This doesn’t seem like a convenient location.” It feels more like where’d you stay if you wanted to do something out of the public eye.

The car pulled up to an intricate iron gate that swung open, then closed behind them. The sprawling English estate was impressive, although not the size of Eric’s. Men in suits occupied stations around the lawn, and a helicopter waited nearby.

They parked at the top of the circular driveway in front of the prominent entryway. As soon as the driver stepped out, the second man turned in his seat and handed Rachelle a black card with nothing more than a phone number printed in white. “You are never alone. If you need something, anything, call that number, but show it to no one.”

The side door opened before she had time to ask whose number it was. She tucked it inside her phone case and took her cue from the man who had handed it to her and pretended they had not exchanged anything.

Holy crap, what was that?