Magnus didn’t like that he might have scared Rachelle, nor did he like the way she was looking at him. Her eyes flashed, but not with the desire they’d held the night before. He wasn’t a man who wasted his time worrying about what others thought of him, but he wasn’t comfortable with the opinion she currently had of him.
“Phillip,” Magnus called out. His head of security opened the door. “I believe we have something of Miss Westerly’s.”
“Of course.” Phillip handed the phone back to Rachelle.
“That’ll be all, Phillip.”
Once they were alone again, Magnus took a moment to replay what Rachelle had said. Dr. Stein had said something similar the night before. “It was not my intention to scare you.”
“And?”
“And the guards were meant to be my eyes and ears while I was otherwise occupied.”
“And?”
He almost smiled again, but he was learning. “And I apologize for taking your phone.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes narrowed. “Something doesn’t add up. You said Eric was going to Vandorra, but he hadn’t agreed, had he?”
“No, he had not.”
“Then why did you tell me he had?”
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did. You said—” She stopped and seemed to be going over his words in her head. “You said you would be taking both of us to Vandorra, not that he had agreed. What was your plan if Eric said no?”
“It’s of no consequence now, since he has agreed to go.”
She searched his face again. “Is he in some kind of trouble?”
“That’s not for me to say.”
“Where did you find him?”
“That is another question best answered by your brother.”
She raised her chin. “Did you promise him you wouldn’t tell me? Feel like you’d be betraying him if you did?”
Magnus couldn’t meet her eyes. He had told Eric that this would all go down in a way that no one would find out.
“No matter what you promised, I deserve the truth about Eric. It’s no different than what I must do with information my students give me—”
“Your brother is not a child.”
“You think you have all the answers, but what if you’re wrong?” She moved away to sit in one of the chairs. “What if he needs me and you don’t give me the chance to help him?”
Magnus took the seat across from her. Was this how quicksand felt? Every move he made sucked him in deeper.
Rachelle felt she deserved the truth about her brother, but would knowing help or push Westerly even closer to the edge?
He didn’t want to see Rachelle hurt, but neither would he lie to her. Although he had essentially promised Eric that he’d keep his secret, she had left her job to travel across the world because she was worried for her brother. She deserved the truth. “Your brother has agreed to receive help for what he is dealing with.”
“Is it drugs?” she asked.
There was no point in telling her less than all he knew. Magnus described how he’d found Eric and what Dr. Stein had said. He assured her that the clinic in Vandorra was one of the best in Europe . . . and discreet. He would not be the first, nor sadly the last, they treated for using such sedatives.
She clasped her phone on her lap. “I’ve heard about people using them. Oh my God, why would he take an anesthetic? Doesn’t he know that people sometimes don’t wake up?”
Magnus leaned forward, his hands braced on his knees. “He knows.”
“But he doesn’t care if it kills him? Does he want to die? Has he said he wants to?”
“Not in so many words, but he’s in a bad place, Rachelle. He needs to talk to a professional.”
She bent over as if she was about to retch. “I knew it. I mean, I had a feeling that he was struggling with something, but I didn’t know it was this bad.” She covered her mouth with a shaking hand. “Now I don’t know what to do. Should I tell my family? Should I tell Eric I know?”
They sat there quietly for several minutes. Tension thickened the air. “Why are you helping Eric? You don’t seem to even like him.”
If Eric were one of the citizens of Vandorra, Magnus would have answered that it was his duty to serve his people. Eric, though, was not his responsibility. “I promised Finn he would meet him.”
“You could fulfill that promise without doing more.”
He stood. The realization that what he was willing to do for Eric was tangled up with how he felt about the woman before him was disconcerting. Yes, he was still attracted to her, but there was a quickly developing depth to it that was new to him. She was brave, fiercely loyal, and passionate. He wanted this to work out for her.
Because I care about her.
Rather than attempt to put his feeling into words, he cupped her chin and guided her lips to his. This wasn’t a plundering, but rather a tender invitation. She rose to her feet, and her hands came to his chest as if to push him away, but she didn’t.
When he lifted his head, she stayed where she was, but confusion warred with passion in her eyes. “Are you helping my brother so I’ll sleep with you?”
“What a flattering opinion you have of me.” He brushed his lips over hers again. “You will be mine, Rachelle. It’s only a matter of time. I also wish to help your brother. You will have to trust that one is not contingent on the other.”
“You’re wrong. I’m not going to sleep with you. I don’t believe in casual sex.”
“So, you are still a virgin?”
“No, of course not.”
“Divorced?”
“No.”
“Left at the altar, then.”
She pushed away from him. “I don’t need to explain myself to you, but no, I’ve never made it to the altar. I was, however, in a committed relationship each time.”
“Each time?” He arched an eyebrow. “How committed could you have been?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You are a real ass sometimes, you know that?”
He laughed. “Only sometimes? That’s an improvement.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Would it help if I told you that I normally avoid complicated, but you’re one hot mess I can’t get out of my head?”
“No, it wouldn’t,” she said, but she smiled cautiously. “But I am grateful for what you’re doing for Eric.”
Progress.
“I’ll take that.”
“Just not that grateful.”
He placed his hand on her lower back to guide her out of the room and decided to have a little fun with how easy it was to rile her up. “Of course, true gratitude will come after I’ve had you.”
She stopped, her eyes flew to his, and he loved that the fire was back. “I wish I could tell if you’re joking.”
“There’s only one way to find out. You’ll have to get to know me.”
Her eyebrows came together in the most adorable frown. “Last night fell apart because I let this—this—whatever this is distract me from why I came to London. I’m here for Eric. Anything else will have to wait until I know he’s okay.”
She needed time—reasonable, considering the circumstances. He checked his watch. “If we leave now, we’ll be in Vandorra before nightfall.”
A short time later, Rachelle accepted an offer of a drink from a female attendant on Magnus’s plane. A glass of wine might calm her nerves. So far, the spontaneous travel had not relaxed her. She was seated beside Eric, who had suddenly become protective of her. His distrust of Magnus radiated from him. Across from them, Magnus worked on his laptop—answering e-mails and occasionally barking scheduling changes to the men seated behind him.
Magnus looked up and said, “Once in Vandorra, while in public you should both refer to me as either Prince Magnus or Your Royal Highness. Anything else is considered an offense punishable by imprisonment.”
“Sounds like a fabulous country to visit. Can’t imagine why I’ve never been,” Eric said.
“He’s joking.” Rachelle couldn’t imagine such a law could survive in modern society.
“I am not,” Magnus added matter-of-factly before returning to his work.
“It’s going to be fine,” Rachelle assured Eric. “I’m sure Magnus wouldn’t let anything happen to us.”