Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire #3)(5)

When his attention settled on her, her jaw went slack. His eyes were not light brown. Not green. They were somewhere between with flecks of yellow—gold. Absolutely stunning. Closer and closer until Rachelle forgot where she was. There was only him and how her body hummed beneath his slow appraisal.

“Waiting for me?” he asked in a low growl.

Only my whole life. She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut and swallowed what would have been a humiliating admission. He towered above her, and she chastised herself for instantly imagining how easily he could lift her if he wanted to. She’d had sex with other men, but none of them had sent her genitals into code-red lust.

She remembered being slightly disgusted when her best friend had used their teenage color-code categories of attraction to explain how she felt about Brett. No one wanted to imagine anyone feeling that way about their brother. Plus, Rachelle had considered it an exaggeration. A code red was romance-novel crap. She’d maintained that that type of mindless attraction didn’t happen in reality.

I was wrong.

Holy shit.

He offered her his arm. “A gentleman never refuses a beautiful escort.”

Beautiful? Me? Feeling as if she’d stepped into a dream, Rachelle laid her hand on his arm. It flexed beneath her touch, and she swayed against him.

Wow. Just wow.



As Prince Magnus escorted the beautiful but apparently mute woman down the rest of the red carpet, he found himself unusually tempted to accept Eric Westerly’s token of apology. This woman might not speak English, but he’d find a way to explain his refusal once they were inside. She wasn’t the first woman to be offered up to appease him, and she likely wouldn’t be the last. It was a practice Magnus found repulsive. He would say as much to Westerly after the idiot visited Finn in the hospital.

His mother had been the heart of his family. Although she’d been gone for more than a decade, she’d ingrained in Magnus a deep respect for women. They were the backbones of civilized society. Which was why men viciously tried to control them or reduce them to nothing more than a gift to another man. Weak men were threatened by the power of change a good woman could wield.

His father’s legacy had begun as a tribute to his wife while she was alive, yet had sadly only come together after her death. The high number of women graduating from his country’s universities was evidence that his mother continued to make a difference. Women were remarkable when given a chance to be.

He glanced at the woman on his arm. She hadn’t come from nowhere. Somewhere she had a mother and a father. Did they worry about her? With a nudge in the right direction, would she return to them? He’d give her name to Jules. He handled the philanthropic side of their business. He’d have connections to agencies that could offer this woman options other than the life she’d somehow fallen into.

For now, he would handle the situation with discretion. Without knowing Westerly’s arrangement with her, he had no way of assessing if refusing her services would endanger her.

As soon as they were inside the building, he led her off to one side of the room. “Do you speak English?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered huskily.

“If you wish, you may be my escort for the premiere. I will make it appear that you please me. No one need know what I am about to say to you.”

Her eyebrows shot up, but she remained silent.

Magnus took out a business card and wrote his friend’s cell phone number on it. He handed it to her. She accepted it as if she’d never seen a business card before. It was hard not to feel sorry for her. “Call that number. Jules Mansfield is a good man. He’ll help you leave here if you wish to. He can set you up with a job and whatever else you need to start again. The choice is yours, but you have a choice if you want one.”

“I don’t understand.”

Westerly had good taste when it came to women. Despite the truth of her situation, this woman had an air of innocence that was appealing. Looking into her eyes, Magnus felt a reluctant attraction to her. He reminded himself he was a healthy male responding as any man in his prime would. However, what he felt in that moment didn’t matter any more than it mattered in any other part of his life.

One of the photographers had asked if he intended to marry Princess Isabella. Her parents were pushing for the union. So far he hadn’t refused that offer, although it was not his first choice. Marrying her would secure relations with her bordering country, but his mother had loved his father, and Magnus was reluctant to settle for less than a woman who adored him. Princess Isabella was quite in love with herself. Thankfully that was not his immediate concern. The confused woman before him was. He chose his words with care, attempting to make his point without insulting her.

“No matter what brought you here, you are not trapped in this lifestyle. Call the number on the card, and you will receive safe passage and assistance.”

“I’m sorry? Passage?” Her delicious little mouth rounded, challenging his moral stance.

Could such sweetness be an act, or had Westerly sent him a novice? His heart pounded in his chest, and his cock twitched to attention. For her sake, he needed to put distance between them. “I cannot accept your services this evening. Call the number on the card.”

“My services?” Her mouth snapped shut, her chin rose, and her eyes narrowed. “You don’t know me. Why would you think I would be offering you anything?”