It was only later when she was once again beneath the covers and in his arms that he realized they hadn’t used a condom the final time. With any other woman, he would have been furious with himself, but in his mind, she was already his. Only the details of how and when it would become legal were still under negotiation.
Chapter Twenty-One
There were few times in Rachelle’s life she considered so beautiful, so perfect, she tried to ingrain them into her memories. The week that followed her early-morning dance with Magnus was one of those magical times.
They stayed at his family home for a couple of days, long enough to have gone into town as a couple. The wonder of seeing Magnus with the people in the town was that he didn’t act like a royal with them. He sat with them, laughed with them, even traded playful insults with a few. Just like the rest of the men in town, he also sat up straighter when Zinnia spoke to him. Rachelle asked him if she’d ever gotten him with her switch. He’d laughed, but he hadn’t denied it.
In the town he called his home, he and Rachelle ate sinfully rich foods, drank too much coffee in cafés, and spent hours talking in the corner of a bar while Benito played modern pop music. Magnus asked her endless questions about her childhood, her interests, her current bucket list. She countered with questions of her own and loved that he held nothing back. Every day she handed a little more of her heart over to him; every night she found pleasure in his arms.
When they finally returned to the capital city, Magnus left her each morning to work but gave her his afternoons and evenings. And, of course, his nights.
Every piece of what had seemed like an impossible puzzle was beginning to fit together. She and Magnus visited with Eric and the children on the other side of the hospital. They met with architects to design housing for families of the sick children and chose a nearby lot that presently housed only a warehouse. Even Delinda was supportive. Well, if the definition of supportive was not actively trying to destroy or devalue her relationship with Magnus, as Rachelle had expected her grandmother to. They hadn’t yet returned to see his father, but the reception for the orphans was that night, and they would see him then. She was attending as Magnus’s official date. Magnus said he would present her to his father again and announce his intentions.
Although Rachelle wasn’t entirely sure what intentions he was referring to, she trusted Magnus. The more time she spent with him, the more she saw that he expressed his feelings with actions rather than words. He didn’t fawn over his people or try to win them with charm, but he delivered each and every time they needed him. They loved him for it in a way that almost no one loved a leader anymore.
How could she not fall for him?
He still said ridiculously sexist things that made her eyes roll skyward, but he wasn’t bothered when in private she took him to task for them. In fact, more than once she’d wondered if he said some of them simply to get a rise out of her.
He was never the type to gush words of love and flattery, but Rachelle had been with a man like that, and none of it had been sincere, anyway. When she’d needed that man, he hadn’t wanted to be bothered with her problems. However much Magnus might sometimes frustrate her, she was beginning to believe he might show his feelings for her the same way he did with his people—with actions rather than words. Measured that way, he put to shame the men who’d come before him.
She smiled as she sat in a chair while having her hair and makeup done. She met her eyes in the mirror and realized she’d never seen herself look happier or more beautiful. Right or wrong, love or only lust, what she had with Magnus was giving her the confidence she’d lacked.
He could have chosen any woman, but he chose me.
Take that, all you girls who got dates every Friday night in high school.
I may have bloomed late, but look at who it brought me.
The past week should have been one of the best for Magnus, but outside of his time with Rachelle, it had been riddled with frustration. He had not planned to return to the capital city until he’d cornered and questioned Alethea Narcharios. Unfortunately, she had proved more elusive than anticipated.
Left without other options, Magnus had gone directly to the source of one of his issues—Delinda Westerly herself. It hadn’t been easy to catch her without his father by her side. Another point of irritation for him.
When he finally caught her alone, he could have asked her what she sought to gain by attempting to hack his life, but instead he’d explained how boundaries were important in any family. At first she’d puffed up like an angry cat, but when he explained that he wanted this clarified before he again asked Rachelle to marry him, she became agitated for another reason.
“Again? You’ve already asked her?” Delinda had asked in a hurt tone. “Why am I hearing this from you and not her?”
“Would the truth change how you behave? Rachelle has told me all about your relationship. Not much of it was good.”
She’d been offended, of course. There were the expected threats, some even involving the contacts she was inviting to the ball she was still organizing with his father.
“What brought you here, Mrs. Westerly? What’s your endgame?”
“I told you—Rachelle.”
“She doesn’t believe that, nor do I.”
“I don’t care what you believe.”
He’d finally lost his patience and growled, “Rachelle loves you, but she won’t let you near anything she cares about. If I were you, I’d ask myself why.”
Their exchange had ended on that sour note. Like everything else he’d tried to accomplish that week, it hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped. His people had followed a money trail connected to Petek’s death back to Vandorra, but they were still working on who had hired him and then killed him off. Which meant the threat to Rachelle might come from any direction. She was presently better protected than he was, but Magnus wouldn’t sleep well at night until he knew why Petek had been hired to follow Rachelle.
All that was forgotten, though, each afternoon when he held Rachelle in his arms again.
In a week that felt like he could do nothing right, she was his reason to keep trying. The more he got to know her, the more he could not imagine his life without her in it. Tonight at the orphan reception, he would present her to his father in an official capacity. Magnus had made his choice, and if their week together was anything to go by, Rachelle had made hers as well.
He had little experience with labeling his emotions, but the more time he spent with her, the less he wanted to be away from her. Often while he was sitting in a meeting, his mind would wander to her, and he ached for her. Ached. He hadn’t known something could feel so good and so bad at the same time.
As Magnus drove toward his palace and Rachelle, he decided he’d attempt to put that feeling into words for her. She’d like that.
Or she’ll tell me how I should have said it.
He hoped she never made things easy for him. She was perfect just the way she was.
And since there was very little chance that he would change, he saw a future full of fiery debates and passionate makeups. The images that followed that thought had him speeding back to her. If he played it right, there was time for one more argument before the reception.
Chapter Twenty-Two
That evening Rachelle and Magnus entered his father’s palace through the front gate, met by surprisingly respectful photographers. After she thought about it, she realized she should have expected nothing less. His family made the laws here.
A member of the royal household welcomed them into the palace and briefed them on the location of the guests as well as the order of the planned events. There would be time to mingle with the guests before the arrival of the king. King Tadeas would say a few words, then circulate as well. Dressed in a dark-blue suit, Magnus looked like the businessman she’d grown accustomed to him morphing into each morning, but he held himself differently in this space. He became who he needed to be—someone of sophistica
ted etiquette and composure.
The reception was not, as Rachelle had originally feared, an act of manipulation. Planning for the event had started months before she and Magnus had even met. This formal cocktail party honored those who had completed building several satellite orphanages in the rural communities of Vandorra. Magnus had explained to her that their ultimate goal was to keep children, unless there was a reason to remove them from the area, as much a part of their original community as possible. Their goal was to build networks of support around the most needy rather than yanking them away from everything they’d known because it was easier. Magnus never took the easy road, and he didn’t look away from those who needed him. One day he would be a hell of a king.
Being on the arm of such a man would have intimidated Rachelle a month ago. She would have wondered why he wasn’t with a more beautiful woman or someone with better social graces. She would have felt like a fraud had he draped her with diamonds, but she’d chosen a modest, long-sleeved, dark-floral dress from a department store and paired it with classic pointed designer pumps. Yes, it was more formal than what she normally wore, but enough of her personal style that she felt comfortable in it.
As they made their way into the reception area, Magnus lowered his head and said, “Your grandmother is likely already inside. If you wish to show her respect, we should start with her.”
Although Rachelle had done her best to avoid Delinda for the last week, not wanting to give her a chance to fill her head with negativity, she nodded. At the end of the day, Delinda was family. “I’d like that.”
Rachelle introduced herself to each of the staff she encountered until she caught Magnus watching her. Only then did she realize the staff looked surprised by her friendly greeting. “Was that wrong?”
He smiled. “No, it was pleasantly right.”
Upon their entry, the volume dropped significantly. No one rushed to greet their prince, but several looked as if they wanted to. Some of the house staff dispersed around the room, and Rachelle guessed they’d instructed the crowd to wait to be approached by Magnus.
As expected, Delinda was not standing alone. She was surrounded by a healthy number of men and women, both young and old. Even in Europe, Delinda’s name opened doors, and the flock around her seemed to understand that well.
Magnus greeted her warmly. “Mrs. Westerly, it is a pleasure to have you join us.”
“Thank you, Your Royal Highness. The pleasure is mine,” Delinda said with all the polished etiquette of a woman who was not new to attending such events. She turned her attention to Rachelle. “Rachelle, you look lovely in that dress.”
Rachelle stepped forward to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. “Thank you.” When she stepped back and took a closer look at her grandmother, she was surprised to see the circles beneath her eyes that makeup had not fully concealed. Her grandmother looked her age that evening, and Rachelle was filled with guilt for having avoided her. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy.”
In place of the cutting sarcasm Rachelle expected, Delinda smiled and gave her hand a pat of support. “And yet you made time to see me each day. No matter how short the visits were, they warmed my heart.”
Her comment confused Rachelle until she realized how many eyes and ears were focused on their conversation. We’re onstage. I can’t forget that. “I always have time for you, Grandmother. Always.”
Magnus greeted each of the people around Delinda. Although he introduced Rachelle by saying, “It is my pleasure to present Miss Rachelle Westerly,” and nothing more, it didn’t seem that more was needed. The mere fact that she was on his arm seemed to be a statement of its own.
After a few minutes, Magnus excused himself from the group and led Rachelle toward another. Once again, he presented her with simplicity, then spoke to each person in the cluster. Although several seemed nervous as he approached, he put them at ease. He had informed conversations, as if he knew a great deal about everyone in attendance, and expressed sincere gratitude to each in turn. Rachelle was impressed with how he left each of them feeling as if their presence that evening mattered more than his.
When they finally had a moment alone, Rachelle motioned for Magnus to bend so she could say something softly in his ear. “Magnus, I’m worried about my grandmother. She doesn’t look well. Will there be a break during the events tonight when I could take her aside and ask her how she’s feeling?”
His gaze flew to Delinda, who was now seated with a circle of people around her. “She does look tired. After my father speaks, he will do just as we did. It would be simple enough to slip away then. Should I accompany you?”
“No, she’ll be more honest without an audience.”
“Yes, I can see that.” He looked her over again. “If you are very concerned, take her aside now.”
As Rachelle watched Delinda holding court, she told herself she was worrying about nothing. Her grandmother was the strongest woman she knew and would probably be healthy as a bull until she was well over a hundred. “It can wait. She seems fine right now.”
“Come, then. There are more people for you to meet.” He took a step toward another group, but Rachelle halted him.
He looked down at her with concern.
She felt a bit silly but wanted to express what she was feeling. “I’m proud to be here with you. You’ve changed the way this American views royalty. Your people are lucky to have you.”
He didn’t bend to kiss her as he might have when they were in his hometown. His smile, though, also shone from his eyes and made her glad she’d told him. “And I am lucky to have you with me. I have attended hundreds of these events, but this is one I shall always remember.”
She blinked back tears. For Magnus that was practically a declaration of love. “Me too.” She floated, not walked, with him to meet the next group of people.
A short while later, King Tadeas entered the room, and a hush of excitement ran through the crowd. He thanked all in attendance for coming and made special mention of several for exceptional dedication to the cause. When he finished speaking, Magnus brought Rachelle over to him.
Here, before his people, Magnus bowed his head to his king. “Father, it is my pleasure to officially present Miss Rachelle Westerly to you.”
His father smiled with approval, then turned his attention to Rachelle. “It is good to see my son with someone who is teaching him to smile again. You are always welcome in my home, Miss Westerly.”
Rachelle bowed her head, although she wasn’t sure if she should have curtsied. “Thank you, Your Majesty. The honor is mine for being included in a celebration for such a worthy cause. I did not expect to enjoy my visit as much as I have, but Vandorra is an easy country to fall in love with.”
“Easier than my son?” King Tadeas joked in a tone low enough for others not to hear.
Rachelle blushed and said as softly, “He’s growing on me as well.”
The king laughed and nodded with approval again. “Dine with me on Sunday, both of you. Something tells me we have much to talk about.”
“We do, Father. Sunday it is.”
With that, Magnus and Rachelle seemed to be released from official duties. All attention turned to the king. Rachelle searched the room, startled when she didn’t see Delinda. She was probably in the washroom. “Magnus, I’m going to slip out to speak to my grandmother now.”
“I’m here if you need me,” he said.
“I know, thank you.” The wonder of the man she tore herself away from was that he meant it when he said that. Never had she dared to imagine having someone in her life she could lean on, believe in. Love wasn’t supposed to be this good, was it?
And love was what Rachelle could no longer deny feeling for Magnus. Waking up in his arms made each day feel like a miracle on its own. Alisha had told her love changed everything, but she hadn’t believed her until Magnus. With him on her side, she felt like she could handle whatever life threw her way—even a lecture from Delinda.
When she di
dn’t immediately see Delinda, Rachelle made her way down the hallway to peer into the other rooms. She was about to step into one of the rooms when she heard a male voice say, “Prince Magnus is brilliant. You’ll never see Vandorra selling off palaces to the public.”
“But an American? And one that has been mocked on every website, in every newspaper? How desperate for money is he?” a female voice asked.
Rachelle’s chest tightened painfully. She wanted to walk away, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to hear what else they’d say, but part of her had to.
The man said, “Call her whatever you want, that woman is set to inherit billions when her grandmother kicks the bucket. Did you see the way he was fawning all over her? I wouldn’t be surprised if he rushes her to the altar. Hell, when a deal is that sweet, you close it fast.”
“Do you think she’s even his taste?”
“Prince Magnus is a pragmatist. A chinchilla would be his taste if it came with the dowry she has. Royal marriages are always business first, pleasure with lovers after she pops out a few children. Who cares if she’s angry then?”
“Must you be so crude, Joel?”
“Must you be so naïve, Tatiana? I almost feel bad for her. Unless she’s trading her freedom for a title. Some women are into that.”
Sick to her stomach, Rachelle forced herself to walk away then. She didn’t recognize their names, but that made it worse in a way. They were just voices in the night, slapping her in the face with a potentially ugly reality. All her earlier doubts came crashing back. From the first moment she’d seen Magnus walking down the red carpet toward her, she’d known he was out of her league. Except when it came to an inheritance bigger than his country’s GDP. Eric had warned her that once people knew she had money, she would never again be able to trust anyone.
Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire Series Book 3) Page 19
