Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire #3)(41)

Back at the office in his own palace, he called the clinic to check if Eric had actually admitted himself. He had.

He asked Phillip to dig deeper for any and all information about the Westerly family. If Delinda did start trouble, he wanted to know exactly how to shut her down.

Finally, he called the Royal Hotel to confirm that Rachelle had checked in. She had not. It made sense that she would have gone to stay with her grandmother, but on impulse Magnus asked Phillip to confirm that as well.

“Your Royal Highness, I have located Miss Westerly. She is not with her grandmother.”

“Then where is she?”

“It appears she has checked in to a hotel, but not the Royal.”

“I don’t understand her.”

“It is directly across the street from the hospital. Proximity to her brother, perhaps?”

“Thank you, Phillip.”

Was her concern for her brother real, or was this move as strategic as each of her grandmother’s had been?

He tried to put her out of his head, but she crept repeatedly back into his thoughts, making work impossible. Eventually he walked out of his office and slammed the door behind him. “I’m going out,” he growled.

“Out?” Phillip asked, trotting beside him. “Should I have a car brought around?”

“No, I’ll drive myself.”

“Of course, Your Royal Highness. May I ask where you’re headed?”

Although Magnus did not like having to answer to anyone, especially when he couldn’t justify where he was going to himself, he understood the reason for Phillip’s question. His was not to judge, but to protect. It was a role to be honored rather than resented. “To see Miss Westerly.”





Chapter Fifteen

After a short visit with Eric, Rachelle wandered down the street in search of a pastry shop. Her brother had looked uncomfortable, but he said he was staying. She assured him she was right across the street if he needed her. She didn’t mention that their grandmother was in Vandorra, but she was conflicted about whether not preparing him had been for the best.

Lately, no choice felt like the right one.

She stopped in front of a café and stared at a piece of chocolate cake on display, losing herself temporarily in the promise of it. She didn’t want to think about whether she should or shouldn’t tell her family about Eric. She didn’t want to remember any part of seeing Delinda that day. She definitely didn’t want to wonder what Magnus had thought of that lunch. Had it left him as confused?

Rachelle placed her hand on the glass and sighed. Maybe it was for the best. Where could time with Magnus have led except disappointment? Even if he had been good in bed—an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime, orgasm-until-I-couldn’t-move kind of good—what would they have done next? A date?

Sure. Why not?

Movies.

Maybe minigolf.

I’m sure he enjoys all the same things I do. Yeah, not likely.

What had he said? “We could not be less alike.” That about summed them up.

So, thanks, Delinda. I suppose you did me a favor.

“One would think you’ve never seen cake before,” Magnus said from behind her.

Rachelle spun around. She almost asked him what he was doing there, but instead said, “Go away,” and turned back toward the glass display.

Magnus leaned close to her ear and said, “Is it difficult to pretend not to be interested in me after you and your grandmother essentially trapped me into spending time with you?”

She glared at him over her shoulder. “Oh my God. Poor you. I would ask how you’re holding up, but I’m a little preoccupied right now with worrying about my brother. And just so you know, regardless of my grandmother’s performance, I have no intention of going anywhere with you. So you’re not trapped at all. Go away. You’re free.”

“I wish it were that easy,” he growled. “I can’t get a damn thing done. All I can think about is you and tasting you again.” He pushed her hair aside and kissed the curve of her neck.

Lust punched through her, and she placed a second hand against the glass to steady herself. Yes, her body screamed.

No, her mind argued.

Meanwhile, she stood frozen, neither pulling away nor responding to his kiss. His lips trailed up to just behind her ear. “Come with me. No one needs to know. It’ll just be you and me and this . . .” His breath caressed her cheek. He hovered close enough behind her to warm her. “Say yes, Rachelle.”

The temptation to give in was nearly overwhelming. Her body hummed for him, but her need was deeper than purely sexual. It had been a long week, and she was in a foreign country, alone and worried. How can I want to be with anyone right now?

She turned in front of him, leaning back against the glass while looking up at him. His lips were mere inches above hers. The same desire that raged within her was reflected in his eyes. It would be good with him. So good.

But then?

I can’t believe I’m going to say this—but my grandmother is right. I don’t want to be the one he uses and throws away. “No,” she said, nearly choking on the word.

He blinked several times, as if her refusal was difficult for him to process. “I don’t chase women.”

“I’m not asking you to.” She slipped out from beneath his arm. Women. Not even specifically me. After their intimate romp in the garden, it would have been tough to sell that she wasn’t interested in him at all, so she didn’t try. Physical distance from him allowed her to think clearer. “I appreciate what you’ve done for Eric. Today was amazing and something I’ll never forget.”