Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire #3)(6)

Fuck, she’s hot.

If I’d met her any other way, she’d be mine tonight.

He traced the length of her beautiful neck with the back of his hand. “Don’t let your pride stop you from making that call. Trust me, I’m tempted. You’re beautiful, but you deserve better than this.”

“Don’t touch me.” She whipped herself back from his touch, and her hands settled on her hips, an act that pushed her breasts forward and nearly out of the slip of a gown she wore. “I don’t know who you think I am, but what you’re implying is disgusting.”

He could have accepted her claim and left her, but he didn’t. He had offered such help to women in the past. Some had accepted. Some had not. He’d always been able to walk away with a clear conscience. This was different.

He didn’t like the idea that leaving her there might mean she’d end the night with another man. Still, this was a novel attraction better not pandered to. He had no problem filling his nights with less complicated women—women who, like him, sought sex without emotional entanglements. This had the potential of being messy and full of drama.

Yet he couldn’t look away. Each angry breath she inhaled outlined her nipples against the thin material of her gown. He imagined picking her up, tossing her over his shoulder, and taking her somewhere where he could spend the night exploring every inch of her sweet body. “Disgusting isn’t how I’d describe it—simply ill advised. Take comfort in the knowledge that I would love nothing more than to spend the night with you, but I wouldn’t feel right about it.”

“What you shouldn’t feel right about is talking to anyone the way you do.” Her slap took him completely by surprise. His head jerked back, and he instinctively grabbed her by the arm, hauling her closer.

“I’m trying to help you.” Mind and body warred—offering his protection even as his cock throbbed with need for her.

“I don’t need help.” She attempted to pull her arm free from him, but after failing, raised her other hand as if she might slap him again. He caught that hand easily. He gentled his hold on her and told himself that the right thing to do was to take her out of there and ensure she found her way to a better place.

“What’s going on?” a male voice asked from beside them.

Still holding on to the woman’s arm, Magnus turned and found himself face-to-face with the very man he’d come to meet. Eric Westerly was his height, with an impressive build, but Magnus dismissed him as soft. Everything he’d read about Westerly spoke of a privileged upbringing before fame on the big screen. Magnus had little respect for a man who’d never had to fight for anything. He had even less respect for him now that he knew he was the type to gift a woman to someone. “Your friend and I are merely having a conversation.”

“Take your hand off her,” Westerly said between clenched teeth.

A surge of possessiveness swept through Magnus again. Was she from Westerly’s private stock? Had he had her? If so, it was for the last time. There was no way Magnus would hand her back to him. “Too late to change your mind, I’ve already accepted your offer.”

“My offer?” Westerly asked, his expression hardening. “Get your hand off my sister.”

Magnus’s head whipped around. “You’re his sister?” His hold on her went slack, and she pulled herself free then.

“Rachelle Westerly.” She smoothed her hands down the sides of her dress as if trying to wipe his touch off. “I would have told you my name, but you were too busy trying to save me from a life of prostitution.”

Magnus smiled as he realized what this meant. She was not some unfortunate woman being served up against her will. He didn’t have to deny how she made him feel. Spending a few days in London suddenly held more appeal.

“I think you should leave,” Westerly said firmly. “Now.”

The reason for his visit came back, overshadowing his excitement. There would be time later to enjoy Rachelle, but first he had a promise to fulfill. “Not before we talk. My name is Prince Magnus—”

“I know who you are.” Westerly raised a hand and started speaking over him. “I wasn’t interested in speaking with you when you called. Now that you’ve offended my family, I have even less of a desire to. I’m sure my publicist has informed you I don’t do appearances. So, the door is that way. Thank you for coming.”

Magnus stood his ground as his temper threatened to flare. Finn’s doctors had told Magnus that the boy was telling everyone he met that his prince was so powerful that he was going to bring him a superhero.

However, Magnus admitted to himself that by allowing his dick to rob his brain of coherent thought, he had made the situation more complicated.

A man showed up beside Westerly and said something into his ear. Westerly nodded and said, “I have to go. Stay away from my sister.” He left without making sure that would happen.

Westerly had been smart enough to not have security attempt to remove Magnus. Talking the cocky actor into visiting his country would not be easy, but few negotiations were. Westerly wanted something, and when Magnus figured it out, he’d have the upper hand.

His attention returned to the woman beside him. Rather than still be angry, she looked hurt. He didn’t like the idea he might have put that expression on her face. “Are you okay?”