Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire #3)(2)

“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?”