Page 22 of Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire 3)
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.”
