Royal Heir

by Ruth Cardello

  He turned to look at her. Rachelle’s stomach lurched painfully. He’s not happy—not with the situation and not with me. She raised her chin and met his gaze. Well, I’m not happy, either. Get over it.

  I’d tell Delinda to go home, but my opinion on anything has never mattered to her.

  Rachelle had gotten so lost in her thoughts that she’d stopped listening to the conversation. When she tuned back in, it was to hear her grandmother’s preliminary invitation list. The king looked impressed by the names she was dropping. Magnus looked skeptical that she had those connections. Had it been possible to speak to Magnus without being heard, Rachelle would have assured him that if her grandmother said she knew someone, she did. I don’t know what her goal is, but the one thing you shouldn’t do, Magnus, is underestimate her.

  Magnus kept his silence only out of respect. His father was obviously enamored of Delinda Westerly, and she was using it quite shamelessly against him. It was hard not to admire the skill of her technique. She hadn’t come with demands, but certainly an agenda. Had she told his father what she wanted, he might have agreed or he might not have. The genius of her method was how she made his father believe each idea was his own.

  Magnus was willing to let her think she had fooled him as well until he determined her endgame. One of her goals appeared to be that he spend time with Rachelle.

  It was possible that she was fishing for a title for her granddaughter. She wouldn’t be the first. The ever-shrinking pool of monarchs had some seeking a title for the novelty of it.

  What made him think she might have a surreptitious secondary goal was her list of influential invitees to the ball. He would have expected her to pull from the families who were most closely linked to her: the Andrades, the Corisis. She could have claimed affiliation with other royal families in an attempt to validate Rachelle’s suitability. Either might have impressed his father, but instead, she’d chosen political leaders who held influence over Vandorra. Some had signed agreements with Magnus recently, while he was still in negotiations with the others. It was as if she was reading from Magnus’s contact list, claiming each as her own. Her list was not a vain act of name-dropping, it was a veiled threat—and his father did not have enough information about Magnus’s recent dealings to recognize it.

  Watching Delinda in action made Magnus reassess every interaction he’d had with Rachelle. Apples didn’t fall far from their trees. He was forced to ask himself a difficult question: Did she dupe me?

  From meeting him on the red carpet to nearly having sex with him in the garden—how much had been orchestrated as part of a larger plan? When seen through that lens, many things made sense that hadn’t before.

  When something seems too good to be true, it usually is. Rachelle would have him believe that money and power were of no consequence to her, that meeting him had been a coincidence. She was all loyalty, sweetness, and fucking rainbows. Of course it wasn’t real. No one was that nice.

  Was even Eric involved? His pain had seemed real. It was more likely that Rachelle and her grandmother had seen Eric’s condition and used it to their benefit.

  Magnus shook his head. He’d love to have dismissed the entire idea as paranoia, but the reality was that his jaded view of people had saved his father in the past. Let them believe they have us duped. And I’ll do what I always do—whatever it takes to protect my family.

  He smiled at Rachelle and liked that her confidence wavered in response. Want to spend time with me? You will, but on my terms.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After an excruciatingly long lunch that had felt more like a hostage situation, Rachelle sat across from her grandmother in the back of a Bentley Mulsanne Grand Limousine in the front drive of the palace. Everything she’d held in for the last few hours was ready to burst out, but she struggled to choose where to start her rant. She wondered if Magnus was in a similar state now that he was finally alone with his father.

  “Delinda—”

  “Since when am I Delinda to you? You’ve always called me Grandmother,” Delinda said. She leaned forward and instructed the driver to take them both to where she was staying.

  “No,” Rachelle said. “I’m staying at the Royal Hotel.”

  “You most definitely are not. Michael, do not listen to her. I’ll use the drive to talk some sense into her.”

  Her driver sat back and turned the engine off. Rachelle turned to meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. Michael drove Delinda when she traveled, but normally he was her house butler—one who had worked for her for decades and become sort of part of the family. Evidently he was not afraid to act as if he were one.

  Delinda let out a dramatic sigh. “Rachelle, dear, with your public reputation teetering, do you really believe that the best place for you to stay is a hotel?”

  “Magnus—Prince Magnus arranged a suite for me, and I don’t see any problem with the arrangement.”

  “She doesn’t see any problem with it, Michael. Rachelle, people will treat you with as little or as much respect as you demand from them. When a man procures a hotel room for a lady, he is asking if she is of easy persuasion; it is best not to prove him right.”

  Rachelle fisted her hands at her side. “Why are you here?”

  “You heard what I said to King Tadeas: I was concerned for you.”

  “No.” Rachelle shook her head vigorously. “You’re not here for me. If you were, I would feel a lot less humiliated.”

  “I would think that feeling came from being snuck in the back door like some common whore. Had I not arrived, they might have had you serving the lunch.”

  “Stop it, Delinda. I’m not a child who will allow you to speak to me any way you choose.”

  “What has come over you, Rachelle? You’ve always been the sensible one.”

  “Why?” Rachelle ground out. “Because I never challenged you? I did that out of respect for my mother and because we were in your home. But I didn’t ask you to come here, and I don’t want you here. I don’t know how to express that to you in a sensible way.”

  “Michael, do you hear the way she is speaking to me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I don’t know why I try as hard as I do when they are so ungrateful.”

  Michael cleared his throat. “Perhaps she is not in need of your assistance.”

  “Not in need? Not in need? First, the prince allows high society to call her trash; then he invites her to his bed as if she is. And she sees no problem with that arrangement. Well, you’ll both have to excuse me for believing I am very much needed here.”

  Rachelle turned away and saw paparazzi taking photos of them from outside the gate. “Could we discuss this somewhere else?”

  “You mean somewhere private or at a hotel where any visitor you have will likely be fodder for gossip?”

  “Michael, just drive, okay? My things are already at the hotel. We’ll at least have to swing by there.”

  Michael started the car and drove down the driveway. “Of course, Miss Rachelle.”

  Delinda clasped her hands on her lap. “I would be cross with you, Michael, if I didn’t know your stubbornness is out of love for my granddaughter. How do we show her that mine is as well?”

  Rachelle met her grandmother’s eyes. Love from anyone as controlling as Delinda was complicated. “If you want me to believe that, tell me why you’re really here.”

  Delinda looked away, then back. “To help you, Rachelle. I understand how this world works. With a wave of my wand, you could be the most beautiful woman at a royal ball, the envy of everyone, and the only woman Prince Magnus can imagine at his side. You could be queen of Vandorra or the woman who was asked to be and decided it wasn’t enough for her.”

  “I don’t want to be queen of anything,” Rachelle protested even as a part of her soared at the idea of Magnus wanting her by his side.

  “No? You’d prefer to be used and tossed aside instead? Because that is where this is headed. Not sure? Tell me, what has he do
ne to prove me wrong?”

  He helped Eric. He didn’t need to do that.

  I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to look at Magnus through her eyes. He wasn’t going to use and toss me aside.

  He was—

  “I can’t stay at the Royal Hotel.”

  “Thank goodness you’re coming to your senses.”

  “And I won’t stay with you.” Rachelle turned in her seat to look at Michael. “Michael, could you take me to a modestly priced hotel near the children’s hospital? I’ll figure out how to have my things sent over.”

  “Absolutely, Miss Rachelle. I can arrange for your things to be brought to you.”

  “Thank you, Michael.”

  They rode in silence for several miles before Rachelle said, “You’re not here for me, Delinda, you’re here for you. I won’t call you Grandmother again until you realize that.”

  Delinda pursed her lips in thought, then said, “I’m sure you’ll feel quite differently when the prince proposes.”

  Rachelle counted to ten—twice.

  When Michael pulled up in front of the midrange hotel, Rachelle stepped out of the limousine, relieved that Delinda hadn’t asked about Eric. She didn’t know what she would have said if she had.

  Funny how things came full circle. A week ago all that had mattered was helping Eric. Somehow, along the way, Rachelle had begun to believe there was something between her and Magnus that could matter as well. Delinda had brought that to a crashing halt. Even if Rachelle wanted to see him again, it wouldn’t be the same.

  Rachelle leaned back into the limo to say, “Go home, Delinda. If you really want to help me, go home.”

  Michael closed the door of the limo. “She loves you.”

  “Does she? Sometimes I’m not so sure.”

  He tipped his head. “I am. She’s here.” He turned to open the driver’s door. “She won’t be forever. Think about that before you push her too far away.”

  With only her purse in hand, Rachelle walked into the hotel and checked herself in. A short time later, her suitcase arrived. Her head was spinning with everything that had happened over the past few days.

  She didn’t want to view any of it through Delinda’s judgmental lens, but she couldn’t shake the doubt her grandmother had planted. Magnus had taken her to the children’s hospital with him. That was public.

  Of course, the visit was all about Eric. My presence didn’t hold any meaning.

  He convinced Eric to seek help. Not for me, though. That was probably for Finn.

  “When a man procures a hotel room for a lady, he is asking if she is of easy persuasion; it is best not to prove him right.” Delinda’s voice echoed in Rachelle’s mind.

  Easy persuasion? First, that was completely outdated and sexist. Labels were for small-minded people.

  He just saw me as a woman who dreamed of starring in a porno with him.

  Oh my God, I am such an idiot. What did I think a prince would want with me? She changed into workout clothing, found the hotel’s gym, and started running on a treadmill. “I’m not princess material.”

  And I hate that Delinda might be right.

  Rachelle ran faster. Sweaty and disheveled, she glared at herself in the mirror.

  He didn’t ask me on a date. He didn’t even bring me through the front door. He essentially offered me nothing, and I was ready to gobble it and him up.

  Sorry, Eric. I usually am the sensible one. You should be my first—and only—priority.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You’re not a child anymore, Magnus. It’s time for you to choose a wife,” King Tadeas said as they took a slow walk around the palace after Rachelle and her grandmother left.

  “I have plenty of time for that, Father. You were just shy of forty when you met Mother.” Magnus was relieved that his father was out of bed and wanting to exercise. Dr. Stein had become concerned as of late. Pain had led to his father’s withdrawal, but lack of movement was what the doctor had said was quickly adding to his ailments.

  “And look at me, not certain I’ll meet your children before I go.”

  “You’re not going anywhere, Father.”

  “We are all going somewhere, Magnus. I would like to see you settled before I do, though. What do you think of the American?”

  “I thought your heart was set on Princess Isabella,” Magnus chided gently. His father had been advocating that match since he was a child.

  “I must say I was disappointed to learn she was linked to the petty video about Rachelle. That sort of behavior hints at a jealous soul I wouldn’t want raising my grandchildren.”

  Finally, something we agree upon. “Thankfully, she has never been a serious consideration for me.”

  “Has anyone?”

  Magnus hesitated briefly as he remembered how Rachelle had been at the hospital. She’d been the first woman he’d ever seen in that light. Too bad he’d learned she wasn’t the angel she presented herself as. Speaking of that: “Regarding Mrs. Westerly. You seem taken with her.”

  “She is a rare combination of beautiful and brilliant.”

  “Yes, well, she is not above using your high opinion of her to her advantage.”

  His father laughed. “I don’t doubt that for a second. It is a joy to watch her in action.”

  Magnus didn’t share his humor. “Be careful with her, Father. The list she cited was straight from my recent dealings. She wanted you to believe that the ball was your idea, but the guest list was intended to prove to me that she has the ear of many powerful people. She’s dangerous and cunning.”

  “She may prove to be if you continue to treat her granddaughter the way you have. What you saw at lunch was an American mama bear rushing to defend her cub. She absolutely will take a swipe at you—at us—if she feels Rachelle is threatened.”

  “Then I will send her scuttling back to the United States before she has a chance to.”

  The king stopped and turned to face his son. “Not everything is a battle, Magnus. This is a dance, and one that I find invigorating.”

  “A dance? Father, I think you’re confused.”

  “No, I see things more clearly now than I have in a while. Delinda Westerly is a proud woman who believes her granddaughter has been treated unfairly. I agree with her. Rather than sneaking Rachelle into the country, you should have announced her arrival and shown her more respect.”

  “It was not that simple.”

  “It will be from now on. I will arrange several public appearances, all of which you will attend with Rachelle. Your behavior will be above reproach. Are we clear on this?”

  There was no one else who would dare speak to Magnus in that tone—except possibly the woman his father was commanding him to spend time with. “What are you hoping to gain by this? Are you trying to appease Delinda Westerly? Because I assure you, I can resolve the situation much faster.”

  His father shook his head and began walking again. “You will do no such thing. I will deal with Delinda. As far as this situation is concerned, your responsibility will begin and end with her granddaughter and the engagements you will attend with her.”

  “For what purpose?”

  They came to a grassy place that had been Magnus’s favorite playground as a child. “When you were young, your mother argued that we should keep you innocent as long as possible. So we tried, but you could not be contained. You didn’t want to play with trucks—you had a wooden sword and were determined to slay your share of dragons. Well, you’ve done that, Magnus. Now it is time to prove your dedication to Vandorra in another way. Honor my request to spend time with Rachelle Westerly. If she is not to your liking, you will have two months to choose another bride.”

  “Or?”

  “Is there a need for a threat, or will you honor my wishes?”

  The strength of his bond to his father was that he could be honest with him. “You know I have never liked being forced to do anything.”

  “Then abdicate your throne, Magnus. Fi
nd an island somewhere and live off the land. Perhaps then, and only then, you will be able to live in such a free way. Although I believe even that lifestyle is ruled by the laws of Mother Nature. For as much as we feel in control, we are not. You have done great things for Vandorra, but to secure its prosperity, you must marry and produce an heir. My request is that you announce taking a step toward doing so at the ball.”

  “So the ball is to be a forum to announce my engagement?”

  “Yes.”

  Magnus ran a hand through his hair. “This is no small request.”

  “But nor will it be as bad as you imagine.”

  “If I am to do this, why obligate me to spend time with the Westerly woman?”

  His father smiled. “Because your search should start where your heart is already leading you.” He told Magnus he would see him the next day and walked away, leaving Magnus alone and shaking his head.

  He was attracted to Rachelle, but he didn’t have feelings for her. And if there had been a spark of any kind, it had been extinguished. She might be beautiful, and her body might have the power to set his aflame, but his father was wrong—his heart was definitely not involved. She was nothing to him. Less than nothing now that she’d arranged to have her presence forced upon him.

  Just thinking about how Rachelle had done both sent blood rushing to his cock, and he groaned. It was time to start preparing for a full-out war.

  Although his father had claimed this was a dance and not a battle, Magnus saw trouble coming. I don’t know if I can spend time with Rachelle without fucking her.

  But that doesn’t mean I’ll marry her. The woman he would choose would be far less trouble. Offhand, he could think of three with the right pedigree who were both beautiful and quiet in nature. None of them would dare raise a hand to him or correct him.

  His dick twitched and strained as his head flooded with images of Rachelle, the scent of her, the feel of her wet sex contracting around his fingers. And that mouth. He groaned as he remembered the pleasure she’d brought him and imagined how much more they could bring each other.