Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire #3)(35)

“Are you saying your own family would kill you for the crown?”

He looked as if he might say more on the subject, but did not. “How did we get onto such a morbid topic?” They stepped into the second elevator. “When we enter the main hall, I will show you to a sitting room. My father said he is up to receiving guests, but I will confirm that before taking you in to meet him. I hope you understand.”

“Of course.”



As they rode upward, Magnus marveled at the calm of the woman by his side. She was neither preening herself nor fidgeting nervously, as many did. Not that he had brought a woman home in such a manner before, but he had certainly introduced women to his father in the past. Even though Rachelle had been raised modestly, it was obvious that she was accustomed to meeting people of influence, because she was more impressed by the idea of a secret passage than his title.

When the doors of the elevator opened, Magnus nearly stumbled. The sight of his father, perfectly groomed and dressed in one of his finest suits, took him by surprise. “Father.”

The king grinned. “Magnus, you’re late.” He gave Magnus a back-thumping hug completely out of character for his formal father.

“My apologies, Father. The children’s hospital took longer than I anticipated.”

His father looked Rachelle over. “You must be Rachelle Westerly.”

Looking unsure of how to greet him, Rachelle stepped forward. “Yes, Your Highness, uh, Majes—”

“You may call me Tadeas, at least while we’re not in public. Then Your Majesty will do.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Rachelle held out her hand to shake his.

Normally, the king held to the etiquette of not touching unless he initiated the contact, but he seemed to understand that Rachelle meant no offense. He clasped his hands around hers in a warm handshake. “An American rose, if ever I’ve met one. Just stunning. And a schoolteacher, too. I’ve always said intelligence is important in a woman.”

Magnus knew before she opened her mouth that Rachelle could not let that comment slide. “One might argue that intelligence is as important as tact.”

The king laughed heartily and released her hand. “A woman of spirit. I like her. As did everyone at the hospital.”

Magnus was relieved to see his father up and showing interest in something. “The report traveled fast,” Magnus said lightly.

“I’m still the king. I should know everything.”

“Indeed.”

“I’ve arranged for lunch to be served on the lawn overlooking the pond. The weather is perfect for enjoying the outdoors, wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose,” Magnus said slowly. He and his father normally dined in the smaller formal dining room when alone and the larger one when they entertained, although it had been a long time since his father had welcomed guests to the palace. Has he been double-dipping in his medication?

As they made their way through the palace toward the door that would lead to the pond, Magnus watched his father closely, trying to determine the source of his unusually good mood. “Have you seen the doctor, Father? You seem different today.” Perhaps he’d been put on an antidepressant?

“No. No doctor necessary. I feel too good to see one.”

“I’m happy to hear that, Father.” Even though it was disconcerting to see a sudden, dramatic change in his father’s demeanor. Was this mania?

Tadeas stopped and addressed Rachelle. “Your brother was unable to come today?”

“He had an important meeting he couldn’t put off.”

Tadeas arched an eyebrow at his son. “That’s disappointing.”

They arrived at a table set for five. “Father, are you expecting someone else?” Once his father sat, Magnus held out a chair for Rachelle, then took his own seat.

“I am,” his father said, but didn’t elaborate. He turned his attention once more to Rachelle. “You have your grandmother’s eyes.”

“You know my grandmother?” Rachelle asked.

“We’ve met,” his father said. “Truly lovely woman.”

Magnus was intrigued. He and his father spoke about nearly everything. “I don’t remember you ever mentioning her. How long ago was that, Father?”

“Yesterday.”

Rachelle gurgled, then choked on the water she was sipping. “Yesterday? You met my grandmother yesterday?”

His father smiled. “She extended an invitation to join her for tea. Imagine, a woman bold enough to summon a king.”

“That sounds like Delinda,” Rachelle said with a groan.

“She has a passion for life that is invigorating, and a presence that makes a man sit up straighter. I did not think I could feel anything for a woman after your mother, Magnus. She took my heart with her when she died. But I feel twenty years younger today. The sun is shining brighter. Food tastes better. I have a lot to live for, Magnus, and it took meeting Delinda Westerly to remind me of that.”

Magnus watched the blood drain from Rachelle’s face but felt no sympathy for her. Would her story be that she hadn’t known her grandmother was in Vandorra? He didn’t believe in coincidences. What did Delinda Westerly want with his father? Had she sent her granddaughter as a distraction? His temper rose, but he kept his expression carefully blank.