Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire #3)(50)

“Aunt Nissa doesn’t consider herself anything but a regular person. Her husband, however, made a fortune before they met. He owns a lucrative shipping company but gave up that life to live here with her, with the stipulation that they would always have a fully staffed kitchen. He says the one time he tried her cooking was enough.”

“That’s awful,” Rachelle said with a smile.

They reached the top of the hill, and he knew the exact moment she raised her eyes to take in the view. Her hand tightened on his. “I’ve never seen anything like it. There must be thousands of rows of flowers. It looks like it goes on forever.”

Magnus moved to wrap his arms around her from behind. “And not a vegetable in sight. My mother would have hated it. Well, not all of it. My aunt is passionate about educating people about the declining global honeybee population. This is not only a floral garden, it’s also a working laboratory for university students seeking natural ways to control pests and weeds without harming the bees. Since you can’t normally grow vegetables without bees, my aunt argues she’s doing her part to keep my mother’s vision alive.”

Rachelle leaned back into his embrace. “It’s absolutely breathtaking.”

Her body fit so perfectly against his. He couldn’t be this close to her without his imagination going into lusty overdrive, but it wasn’t the time or the place, so he didn’t allow himself to act upon it. “Did you like the flowers I sent you this morning?”

“I did.” She smacked her forehead lightly. “I didn’t thank you, did I? I’m sorry. I forgot.”

He nuzzled her neck. “Understandable. I took a chance that if you liked a bouquet, you would love this place.”

“I do.” She turned in his arms and looked up at him. “Is it true that you don’t bring women to meet your aunt and uncle?”

He ran his hand up and under her hair, then combed it down through it. “You’re the first.”

“Why am I here?”

There wasn’t a simple answer to that. “Nissa is all I have left of my mother.”

Rachelle smiled. “Who are you? Will the real Prince Magnus please stand up?”

He pulled her closer to him, linking his hands together behind her lower back. “I am who I need to be.” He kissed her then, savoring the feel of her soft lips. “But sometimes, when I’m with you, I’m who I want to be.”

Her eyes fluttered and she melted against him. “You’re not just saying that so I’ll sleep with you tonight, are you?”

He kissed her lightly again. “Sleep? No. What I have in mind has nothing to do with resting.” He winked.

She blushed, but desire lit her eyes. Whatever she might have been about to say was lost as one of the staff called out that lunch was served on the patio. On the way back down the path, she stopped and said simply, “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

And in that moment, she stole a piece of his heart.





Chapter Eighteen

Later that evening, Rachelle buried her face against a warm wall of muscle and sighed. A voice in her head told her to wake up, but she didn’t want to. She felt herself being lowered onto a cool, soft cloud but didn’t want to go there alone. She clutched at the warmth, desperate to keep it with her.

“Not tonight, little Rachelle,” Magnus said gently.

Too comfortable to resist the lure of sleep, Rachelle let herself drift away. When she woke, it was with a dry mouth and a headache. The room she was in was dark, but dimly lit by a table lamp. The bed as well as the rest of the room was comfortably modern. She sat up, regretted having moved that quickly, and lay back down, but not before seeing that she wasn’t alone.

Magnus, shoes off and shirt half-undone, was asleep in a chair beside the lamp. Rachelle rolled onto her side, tucked a hand beneath her head, and took the sight in. Even in his relaxed pose, he exuded power—like a sleeping lion, one with more depth and humor than she’d imagined when she first met him.

His eyes opened and he sat forward. “How do you feel?”

“Like a deceptively sweet-looking older couple drank me under the table.” Yeah, ’cause that happened.

“I should have warned you that they love their wine. You seemed to be holding your own until suddenly you weren’t.” He ran a hand through his slightly tousled hair. “I put a glass of water and aspirin next to your bed.”

“Thank you.” Rachelle popped two pills in her mouth and chased it with several gulps of water. “I don’t drink. Now I remember why.” As she settled back down, she realized she was still fully dressed, tennis shoes and all. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you—or myself.”

“They loved you, said you were quite charming. My aunt has a theory that you don’t really know someone until you see them soused.”

“So you got me drunk to see if I become an asshole?”

He smiled. “It wasn’t my idea to have you sample wines from each region of Vandorra, and you could have said no at any time. I’ll admit, I was curious to see which side of you it’d bring out.”

“And?”

“You shared a few too many stories about a cat you had when you were five, but outside of that, you were actually sweet and cuddly. A little too cuddly for me to be able to even take off your shoes. It was flattering, though, to be told you have high expectations of how good sex with me will be.”