Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire Series Book 3)

by Ruth Cardello

  “No.”

  He smiled. “Do not worry. There are plenty of bedrooms at my family’s home. You will be allowed to choose one of your own—unless you decide to share mine.”

  Rachelle folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t think you’re reading my mood correctly. I’m imagining strangling you, not having sex.”

  He roared in laughter. “You are a delight.”

  “And you’re delusional.”

  He pulled the car over to the side of the road and unclipped his seat belt. “Am I?”

  Her breath caught in her throat. The desire in his eyes seared through whatever resistance she had. He wasn’t an overbearing prince who had just offended her by brushing off her demands. She wasn’t an independent woman driven to correct him.

  As they sat there, their breathing becoming more and more shallow, each fighting the same battle. Reason and resolve crumbled in the face of their desire.

  “Come here,” he commanded.

  She clutched her seat belt and glanced around. There was an SUV pulled over a hundred feet before them, and another about the same distance behind them. “No.”

  He traced her cheek with the back of his fingers. “They are trained to look away.”

  She slapped his hand away. “That’s disgusting.”

  He chuckled. “Honestly, I forgot they were there. I can tell them to pull back farther.”

  “That’s not necessary, because nothing is going to happen.”

  He leaned closer. “So none of this?”

  She sat frozen, wanting his touch more than she wanted to refuse him. When his mouth descended upon hers, it did so with gentle expertise. His hands dug into her hair, but his kiss remained an almost tender invitation that was impossible to resist. She closed her eyes and parted her lips for his. He groaned with pleasure.

  Rachelle had been kissed many times before. She’d even been kissed deeply by him, but not like this. He was barely touching her, but they were connecting so intensely that her body burned for his. Every flick of his tongue against hers, every leisurely, artful tease, challenged what was left of her resolve. Her hands sought his muscular chest, and she no longer cared who might be watching. He ended the kiss with another groan but remained close enough so that their breath mingled.

  The slow smile that spread across his face was a lusty one, like a pirate looking over the bounty of his raid. His eyes went to her still-parted lips. “What keeps you saying no to me when it is clear that you want to say yes?”

  She fought to regain her composure. Manipulation even when it felt as good as this did was still wrong. “Your ego, for one.”

  His smile widened, and his voice was a hot caress on her cheek. “Then rein me in.” His hands tightened in her hair. “Make me yours as completely as I will make you mine.”

  Barely able to breathe, Rachelle released her seat belt and turned toward him. The bulge in the front of his trousers confirmed his statement. This was no insecure, still-living-with-his-parents boy. This was a powerful man who was used to getting what he wanted—and what he wanted was her.

  And his challenge rocked through her.

  Make me yours as completely as I will make you mine. What did that even mean? People didn’t own each other. They met, fell in love, had a few kids, and divorced, then learned to be civil for the sake of the children. That’s how the modern world worked.

  Magnus didn’t live by those rules.

  Had he sought to simply control her, she would have found him easier to resist. What did he want? Even as she tried to figure it out, part of her knew. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth back down to hers. There was nothing gentle about the kiss this time, and that was her choice. She arched against him and slid a hand down to his cock, loving how he shuddered from pleasure beneath her touch.

  She kissed him until she sensed he was as close to losing control as she was. When she broke off the kiss, she felt shattered, but in a wonderful way. She wanted to be his. It was too late for her already. Even if she ended it now, even if they never took this further, he had already ruined her for other men. She would never again endure a bland kiss and wonder if the problem was hers. She’d never sit across from another nice man and hope she became more attracted to him. How could she, now that she knew what it should feel like?

  Even if this doesn’t last, even if this is a huge mistake—I’d rather live with the regret than spend the rest of my life asking what it would have been like to say yes to him. Yes to being his and yes to trying to rein him in. “We should go,” she whispered.

  “Where? Have you made your choice, little Rachelle?”

  “Yes,” she said huskily while sitting back and reclipping her seat belt. “I want to see your riverfront home.” His answering smile was a little too smug, so she added, “But don’t call me little. I don’t like it.”

  He swooped in with one last deep kiss that left her far too turned on to care what he called her. “You will learn to.”

  It was painfully difficult not to end the day early and take Rachelle somewhere private where they could finish what they’d started, but Magnus had a second agenda for the day. His men were looking into who might have been following Rachelle as well as securing his home. Her safety took precedence over his passion.

  He pulled his car back onto the road and stole a glance at her. She still looked flustered by his last comment, and he was tempted tell her it had been a joke, but it was too much fun to see how she would respond.

  He didn’t want to spend his life with a woman who was afraid of him, nor was he looking for someone who would agree with everything he said. How boring would a life with such a woman be?

  He glanced at her again. Rachelle Westerly was certainly not boring. Was she the woman for him? That was still to be determined, but the journey toward that decision promised to be quite enjoyable.

  “Just because I said yes to your family home doesn’t mean I said yes to anything else.”

  He arched an eyebrow and tried not to smile. “I believe your agreement to everything else was clearly stated by your hand on my cock a moment ago, but we can circle back to that later. If you’d like to deliver your answer in the form of deep throating, I’m open to that as well.”

  She huffed and folded her arms across her chest. “You’re such an asshole.”

  He laughed. “Give me your hand.”

  “No.”

  Intrigued, he tried again. “Then let me offer you mine.”

  A hint of a smile twitched the corner of her mouth. She looked down at his outstretched hand and then met his eyes again. “I don’t want to encourage your bad behavior.”

  She brought out a playful side of him he didn’t know he had. “Should I apologize? It’s not something I’m good at, but for you I’ll give it a go. I sincerely regret my obsession with wanting to rip your jeans off and kiss my way up those delicious thighs of yours. It’s inappropriate for me to keep imagining how wet you’ll be for my cock after I’ve made you come again and again with my tongue. Forgive me?”

  He loved the flush his words brought to her cheeks and how she smiled as she placed her hand in his. Her words, however, took him by surprise. “I hope you don’t apologize to my grandmother in such a manner. You’ll give her a stroke.”

  “You’re evil. Pure evil.” He pulled her hand to his lips and nipped it gently. “But you’ve found a quick cure for a boner.”

  She laughed. “You deserved it.”

  “I did.” He laced his fingers with hers. The SUV in front of them turned onto a driveway, and Magnus sighed. “We’ll have to continue this conversation later, because we’ve arrived.”

  “Where?”

  The long dirt driveway wound through a thickly wooded area that opened to a grassy field and a small, stone building he knew well. “I thought you might like to meet my mother’s sister.”

  “You’re taking me to see your family?” Rachelle looked down at her jeans. “Like this?”

  “I’m th
e one who is not correctly attired. You’ll understand once you meet her.”

  Magnus only had time to open Rachelle’s door before he heard his aunt exclaim, “Magnus. You’re early. I thought you were coming tomorrow.” As she approached, she wiped her hands on a towel tied to one of the belt loops on her jeans. She was a tiny, slender woman, with a short mop of salt-and-pepper curls. She could have chosen to live in any of the palaces in the country, but she preferred the simpler life of tending to her flower farm. She and her botanist husband were the reason Vandorra was known for exporting hardy and richly colored flowers. The science as well as the beauty it produced was a labor of love for her. She waved to Magnus and called for her husband, Aiden.

  She approached quickly and gave him a hug so full of love he felt his mother was there with them, if only for the briefest of instants. When she released him, his uncle Aiden took her place with a back-thumping hug. Just under six feet, his uncle looked healthy and fit despite his sixty-plus years.

  “Change of plans,” Magnus said after his uncle released him. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend. Aunt Nissa, Uncle Aiden, this is . . . my friend Rachelle Westerly.”

  His aunt looked Rachelle over from head to toe, and Magnus was surprised by how much he wanted her to like Rachelle. He could marry a woman his father didn’t approve of, but if Nissa didn’t like someone, neither would his people.

  Rachelle held out her hand in a shy greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Yes, a pleasure, and an unexpected one at that.” His aunt shook her hand but continued to look her over. “Aiden, she’s American. I did not see that coming.”

  His uncle ducked his head down and offered his hand to Rachelle. “Don’t mind my wife, Rachelle. Magnus doesn’t bring women around for us to meet.”

  Rachelle shot Magnus an odd look. “He doesn’t?”

  “Westerly. You aren’t related to that movie star, are you?” Nissa asked.

  “He’s my brother.”

  “Are you an actress, too?” A frown wrinkled Nissa’s forehead.

  “No, I’m a first-grade teacher. I took time off, though, to visit with my brother.”

  A smile lit Nissa’s face, and she put an arm around her husband’s waist. “She teaches young children, and she’s close to her family. I like her already.”

  Magnus added, “Her grandmother is staying with Father’s friends the Wimbleys. You may know her. Delinda Westerly.”

  His aunt’s eyes widened, and she looked Rachelle over again. “Your grandmother has caused quite a buzz in our social circle. I’ve heard her name several times in the last few days. She’s a woman of strong opinions, isn’t she?”

  “That’s an understatement,” Rachel said.

  The smile returned to his aunt’s face. She turned to Magnus. “How did you manage an unchaperoned outing with Delinda Westerly’s grandchild?”

  Magnus wiggled his eyebrows. “She doesn’t know I have her yet.”

  His aunt patted her husband’s arm. “Isn’t he funny?”

  His uncle smiled politely. “I don’t believe he’s joking.”

  Rachelle rolled her eyes skyward. “I am an adult, and my grandmother has never had a say in what I do or who I do it with.”

  “Oh,” his aunt said with rounded lips.

  Uncle Aiden waved toward the house. “How bad are our manners? I’m sure Magnus didn’t bring Rachelle here to see our driveway. If you haven’t had lunch yet, why don’t we eat overlooking the main field? It’s in full bloom at this time of year.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Magnus said.

  “We’ll gather up the food and meet you on the patio. Show Rachelle around, Magnus. We won’t be long,” Nissa said as she began to step away, pulling her husband with her.

  “Would you like any help with it?” Rachelle asked.

  Nissa paused and looked up at her husband. “She’s sweet, too.” Then to Rachelle she said, “Run along with Magnus.”

  As they walked away, Rachelle said, “I feel bad about not helping,” under her breath.

  Magnus took her hand and began to lead her up a steep path toward a spot his aunt had always said had the best view of the farm. “They’ll be fine. When Aunt Nissa says she’ll gather up the food, she means she’ll run into the house and send her kitchen staff scrambling to prepare something.”

  “Kitchen staff. Of course,” Rachelle said. “She just looked so—I thought—I guess I should have known, considering she’s part of the royal family.”

  “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.”

  “I did not say that.”

  “You did. Once in the car to Phillip. And again to me when I carried you up to my bed. Some men might be intimidated, but I’m confident I can deliver.”