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.
Which kind of lover was Magnus?
He bent closer. “You were about to ask me a question.”
“I was,” she answered automatically, unable to tear her eyes from him long enough to collect her thoughts.
He smiled. “Ask me anything.”
I can’t. I can’t ask you what I’m thinking. But—oh yes. “What did you want to speak to Eric about? It sounded important.”
His smile faded somewhat. “It is. Very important, but it’s not something you need to concern yourself with. I’ll make it happen.”
There was a determination in his voice that wasn’t a surprise, but then there was something else. Whatever he wanted to ask Eric about mattered to him on a personal level. “Is that a nice way of saying I should mind my own business?”
He brought a hand to her face and gently ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “I’m not that nice.”
She shivered, because he was serious. “And you’re proud of that?”
He lowered his hand. “No, but I am the man I have to be. I was born with certain responsibilities that must supersede pride or regret. Both are luxuries I cannot afford.”
His words reminded her of something Eric had said about paying for his fame with his privacy and dignity. Perhaps her mother had been right about some things. Wealth and power didn’t necessarily make people happier. “I should warn you that, although Eric doesn’t talk about his family in public, he is far from alone. If whatever you’re looking for from him isn’t to his benefit, you would be bringing the wrath of some very powerful people to your door.”
“Is that a threat?” he asked in a low growl.
Even though she told it not to, her body warmed and tingled at the hint of danger in his tone. Why? I don’t even like scary movies. I’m all about the happily ever after, feel-good stories. This is not good. “No, but I love my brother, and I thought you should be aware I would never let anyone hurt him.”
A smile returned to the prince’s face. “You’ll be relieved to hear that what I want from your brother would not be detrimental to him. In fact, it would be good for him.”
On impulse, Rachelle touched his arm. “Tell me. I might even be able to help.”
Magnus looked away. For a long time he seemed lost in the action on the screen. Without turning back to face her, he said, “There’s a little boy in a hospital in Pavailler, Vandorra’s capital city. His name is Finn, and he’s waiting for a heart transplant. He idolizes Water Bear Man. I promised him your brother would visit him at the children’s hospital. I’m not leaving London without your brother.”
Rachelle’s hand tightened on his arm. I swear to God, if he’s lying, I will castrate him, because that is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. “Have you spoken to his publicist?”
“Yes. He said your brother doesn’t do public appearances.”
“Does Eric know the circumstances?”
“I doubt it. So far he has refused my attempts to speak with him.”
I know that feeling.
“So, that’s why you’re here? To ask him in person?”
“Yes.”
Don’t ask. Don’t ask. You don’t want to know. “Is that also why you’re sitting with me?”
He met her gaze again. “I sought you out because I want you—in my bed tonight, if you agree. And every night after that until whatever this is between us burns itself out.”
That’s a little offensive.
He continued, “But that doesn’t mean I won’t use how your brother feels about us to force his hand.”
And dark. “You’re admitting that you’d use me to get Eric to do something.”
“I don’t need to lie or manipulate to get into a woman’s bed. I want you. I want to taste every inch of you. I want to hear you calling out my name, begging me not to stop and then crying out in ecstasy when I don’t. I can separate that from my reason for being here. You’ll end up in my bed soon enough. Yes is already in your eyes. But I promised a little boy that your brother would visit him, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”
Feeling like a swimmer who’d just been knocked off her feet by a crashing wave, Rachelle sputtered, “There is no yes in my eyes. And there’s no room in my bed for you and that gigantic ego of yours.”
A corner of his mouth twitched as if her comment amused him. “You can come home with me tonight or make me wait. I’ll enjoy it either way. There’s something to be said for postponing pleasure. I don’t mind if you’ve been with other men, but I’d also enjoy if you’re actually a twenty-nine-year-old virgin. So take your time, but know that you will be mine.”
Rachelle turned back to face the screen. Oh my God. He heard me talking to Alisha.
I should be outraged.
Or scared.
Or anything but imagining how tonight would end if I said yes. See, I just pictured him naked again. That’s not good.
She shivered from a hunger unlike anything she’d felt before. Code-red men are dangerous.
Deliciously dangerous.
But still a bad idea.
If the gasps and sputtering sounds the woman next to him made were any indication, Magnus had shocked her. Good. He didn’t like his women too jaded.
Another man might have withheld the truth about why he was there. Only the weak hid behind lies. What Rachelle thought of his reason for being there or what her brother felt about doing appearances would not change the outcome. She will be mine. Success in life didn’t come from asking oneself if something was possible, but rather determining how far a person was willing to go to make it happen.
Unfortunately for Westerly, Magnus had royal immunity in most countries and a reputation for not being afraid to test the boundaries of it. Magnus would give Westerly one more chance to agree before he coerced him. Every man should be allowed an opportunity to do things the easy way.
After that, Magnus would change Westerly’s mind in a less pleasant way. He’d already isolated two of Westerly’s weak points—Rachelle, and an obsession with privacy. People didn’t hide unless they had something they didn’t want the public to see. Magnus would discover what it was, and he’d use the connection to the woman next to him as leverage to get that information if he needed to. He’d told her as much, and she was free to walk away.
She wouldn’t, though. Even before he’d heard her describe him to her friend, he’d known she wanted him. Part of her beauty was how expressive her eyes were. Everything she felt was right there for the world to see—innocently unprotected.
If he were in London to kill her brother, he might have felt some remorse about involving her. However, shaking the shit out of Westerly’s life until he agreed to meet with a sick child might actually be considered one of the nicest things Magnus had ever done. In the end, Rachelle would likely thank him. It was obvious she cared more for her brother than he cared for her. When Magnus finally did go head-to-head with Westerly, he’d address that issue as well. Family and duty defined a man. Prancing around in a cape and pretending to have the powers of a microscopic bug was pathetic, even if it was financially lucrative. That man needed to be woken up to what mattered in life.
He glanced at Rachelle and was taken once again by her soft beauty. “I intend to speak to your brother once more before I leave tonight. It’s your choice whether you are at my side as I do so.”
She expelled a harsh breath. “Of course it’s my choice. Do you know how impossibly full of yourself you sound?”
He smiled. He liked her spirit. “Do you know what I love about Americans?”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“Your arrogance.”
“I’m arro—I’m arrogant? Really?”
Her outrage was so adorable he almost kissed her, but they were still very much in the public eye. “You barely know who I am or my thoughts on retaliation, and yet you’ve already swung at me out of anger.”
“Are you saying you’re planning to hit me back?”
He laughed at the horror in her eyes. “I don’t hit women.”
She looked suddenly irritated with him. “I wouldn’t be surprised to hear you did.”
He leaned over and tucked her long hair behind her ear, then whispered, “I’d rather have them beg me than fear me.”
Even in the darkness of the movie theater, he could see the blush darken her cheeks. “I’m sure that line works with some women, but I’m not impressed.”
“There it is—the arrogance that makes me wish we were alone right now. You are deliciously irreverent. I will enjoy teaching you how to speak more respectfully.”
“Respect isn’t something you teach—it’s something you earn.”
He leaned closer and whispered, “Then I will earn it one mind-blowing orgasm at a time. Just as I will allow you to do with me.”
She licked her bottom lip before saying, “Listen, I don’t care what you heard me say to my friend. I’m not interested. Call it arrogant or simply call it intelligent, but I’m not going to have sex with you.”
“Then why are you still beside me?” he growled in challenge.
She turned to look him in the eye. “Because I don’t trust you. I will be there tonight when you talk to Eric, but I won’t be on your side. I’ll be on his. If you were honest about—”
“I don’t lie—”
“I don’t know that. I don’t know you. But if there really is a little boy named Finn who is hoping to meet Eric . . .”
“There is.”
“I’ll help you explain the situation to Eric.” She gave Magnus a long look. “He’ll say yes once he hears the whole story. You don’t have to threaten me or pretend you’re interested to get me to help you. Eric would have already agreed if it had been presented to him differently.”
“I have no doubt about that,” Magus said, dismissing her brother before addressing something else she said. “I would normally wait, but for the sake of clarification—” He cupped her chin and guided her forward, claiming her mouth with his.
He’d intended the kiss to be brief and reassuring, but her lips parted for his in an invitation he couldn’t refuse. The heat that shot through him nearly made him forget where they were. The taste of her, the feel of her tongue tentatively dancing with his, was driving him wild. He wanted more. Needed more.
He broke off the kiss while he still had the fortitude to keep his hands from sliding beneath the thin material of her dress and exploring those pert breasts of hers, those tight little buds that had been teasing him all night. When he raised his head, her ragged breath matched his. “There is nothing fake about that.”
She sat back and turned her face toward the screen again. He could practically see the wheels spinning in her head.
“If you want me to help you, don’t kiss me again.”
“I don’t require your help,” he said, more because he wanted to get a rise out of her than because it was true.
She gasped again and glared at him. “You are impossible. Sleep with you? I don’t even like you.”
“Liar. I’m the man you wish had been your first and every fuck since.”
Her chest puffed so much her breasts practically burst out of her dress. He’d have to remember that dress. She would wear it for him again. Her mouth opened and closed a few times—as if she almost said something, then decided against it, chose something else to say, then decided against that as well.
“A man who brags about himself knows that no one else will,” she said with authority.
“‘It’s not bragging if you can back it up’—Muhammad Ali,” he answered without missing a step.
She huffed again, but not before he saw her almost smile. She turned away and fumbled with her phone before turning back and saying, “‘Don’t accept your dog’s admiration as conclusive evidence that you are wonderful’—Ann Landers.”
Ah, the culture of shared, uploaded searchable knowledge. How would it fare against an impeccable education? “‘Be not afraid of greatness’—Shakespeare.”
“How appropriate. I do see some Malvolio in you,” she snapped back.
“Touché, my little American.” Magnus laughed, to the consternation of those around them. Her reference to the man who had been the brunt of a joke that had included the greatness quote revealed she was also well schooled. Yes, here was a woman who would not bore him.
“Stop. We’re being rude.”
Magnus shrugged. “No, whoever decided your seat was not beside your brother tonight was rude. We are merely not entertained by an insect superhero.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m enjoying the movie immensely.”
“Really? Then tell me where the alien creature went who was attacking the city a moment ago. Was he killed? Did he flee? Do you know what his rationale was for attacking? Amid the gratuitous explosions, I doubt there is a plot to be followed at all.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Now you’re just being a jerk.”
When several moments passed without her speaking, he relented. It was not his intention to offend her. “Are you honestly enjoying the movie?”
“I’m trying to,” she said.
“Which part, outside of that your brother is in it, pleases you?”
“No. I’m not having this conversation. You don’t get to mock something I care about and then ask me what I think of it. You want to please me? Stop talking.”
Magnus felt like a young child holding in mischief during a ceremony. Part of him acknowledged that he should allow her to view the film without interruption. However, it was not as if a film were a once-in-a-lifetime event. Ridiculous as the plot was, Westerly’s movies would have a global tour at the theaters and then likely dominate on television after that. This electricity might have a significantly shorter shelf life and was therefore of more importance. “I don’t believe anyone has ever told me to be silent.”
“Well, then I’m honored to be the first, and I’ll gladly be the next.”
He laughed again, and she swatted his arm.
“I’m serious. Stop.”
He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips for a kiss. “I like you, Rachelle Westerly. For that reason, and that reason alone, I will be silent.” He placed her hand beneath his on his thigh and laced his fingers through hers.
“Thank you,” she said tersely, but she didn’t pull her hand away.
He turned back to the screen and smiled. He hadn’t expected to enjoy any part of his trip to London. He certainly hadn’t expected to meet a woman who could excite him as easily as she did.
Would she be in his bed that night?
Not knowing made their exchanges even sweeter. He half hoped she turned him away, because he had not had this much fun with a woman in a very long time.
When a man is offered a fine brandy, he does not gulp it down. He rolls it on his tongue, savoring the burn.