Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire #3)(9)

He was lost in that lusty quagmire when the door opened, and she hopped through it while putting her shoe back on, essentially tumbling into his arms. He helped her back to her feet, still holding her against him, not at all embarrassed by how prominently his excitement pressed against her. After all, she found him wet-panties attractive. Had they not been in public, he would have run a hand up her thigh to her sex to confirm the accuracy of her claim.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, referring to how she’d crashed into him.

“My pleasure,” he said with a wicked smile.

She stayed there, resting against his throbbing cock for long enough to drive him nearly mad. Her chest rose and fell against his, another excruciatingly erotic tease. He groaned. This wasn’t the place for what he wanted, and no matter how good this felt, he had no intention of leaving without speaking to her brother.

She glanced back at the door, then up to him again. “You—you didn’t . . . How long have you been standing here?”

“Not long. The movie is about to start, and since neither of us appears to have a date, I hoped you would sit with me.” Prince Magnus could have said the truth, but a gentleman never embarrassed a lady. Plus, he now had the upper hand in a game he’d ensure they both enjoyed.

As far as her potential virginity? Since either possibility was acceptable, the fun would be in discovering the truth.

“Sit with you?” The breathless way she asked it rocketed through him.

Eavesdropping might not be a practice he normally condoned, but that day it had paid off in spades. He loved knowing where her naughty little mind took her when she looked at him.

It made the fact that his went the same places that much more exciting.

Royally screwed? You definitely will be. Later.

First I must convince your brother that he’s not too big of a douche to visit a children’s hospital. Then we’ll fuck.

Confident that the evening would work out the way he planned, Prince Magnus stepped back and offered Rachelle his arm. It’s time to show her my charming side. “Yes. We started off on the wrong foot, but perhaps we could start over. My name is Magnus Gustavus Valentine de Bartelebon, crown prince of Vandorra. You may call me Magnus.”

She searched his face before answering. “You know my name. Rachelle. I’m a first-grade teacher. Nothing fancy. I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. The reason I was upset had nothing to do with you. This week has been an emotional roller coaster. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” She smiled, and his heart did a funny little flip. “If I actually were a prostitute, what you said to me could have changed my life. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome. Shall we?”

She nodded and tucked her arm through his. He stole a sideways glance at her. A teacher? Westerly’s sister had a job? The dress she wore looked inexpensive. Her shoes were scuffed from wear. All implied she was on a limited budget. Fascinating.

Just as she’d said about him earlier, Prince Magnus could not imagine a woman who would be more wrong for him, but even the purely innocent way they were touching was enough to keep him interested.

But there was more.

Why was she there? Why didn’t she think her brother cared about her? Considering Westerly’s level of fame, why was she acting as if this was her first premiere?

He wasn’t accustomed to feeling this level of curiosity about someone. Who had she called in the alley to spill her thoughts and desires to? A beautiful puzzle. It was a struggle to join the crowd heading into the theater rather than haul her off somewhere private.

From the other side of the room, surrounded by his entourage, Westerly watched them enter the theater. He didn’t look happy.

Good. Anger was easier to redirect than indifference.

An usher led them to seats in an overflow section. He turned and saw that Westerly had entered the theater himself, still watching them from near the doorway. Although the seating was insulting, Magnus cared more about what it said about Westerly than appearances.

What a prick.

This is how you treat your sister?

Finn, I said I would bring you Water Bear Man. Does he have to be alive?





Chapter Four

Prior to that evening, Rachelle would have described her love life as perfectly average. Not bad. Not anything to brag about.

Yet here I am sitting next to a prince.

Right next to him.

A drop-dead-gorgeous hunk of a prince.

If I shifted my arm just a little, we’d be touching. But I don’t want to give him the wrong impression. Sitting with him at the premiere is probably no big deal, but that’s as far as this can go. I’m here for Eric, not some X-rated royal romp.

Hey, I need to remember that one to tell Alisha. She’d get a kick out of it.

Although she felt a little guilty about not watching the movie, her mind was racing with questions about the man next to her. One was persistent enough that she whispered, “Magnus?”

He bent his face toward hers. “Yes?”

For just a second, she forgot what she’d wanted to say and fantasized about how he might kiss. Would his touch be tender? Or forceful? He wouldn’t be a sloppy kisser. No, a man like him would have polished his technique.

Or, even in bed, would he consider himself so important that he wouldn’t bother to take the needs of his partner into consideration? The second man she’d slept with had been like that. Nothing more disappointing than a man who thought his orgasm was the only one that mattered.