“What do you mean?”
“Someone reversed a video clip, so it appears that you turned away from her publicly. They shared it on social media with some unflattering text. I don’t imagine she’s very happy about it.”
Fucking fantastic. His hands clenched at his sides. “Who? Who’s responsible for it?”
“I tracked the initial video to a Twitter account belonging to a friend of Princess Isabella. Perhaps this was her way of humiliating the Westerly woman before she became competition? It’s no secret the princess would like to be the next queen of Vandorra.”
“Can the video be pulled down?”
“I’m afraid it has gone viral. There is already discussion of it on a variety of social pages. The damage is done.” He called up the video and showed it to Magnus.
“Get me Rachelle Westerly’s phone number.”
“It’s already added to the contacts on your phone.”
Competence was a welcome sight in the middle of what was turning out to be a shitfest. “Thank you, Phillip. That’s all for now.”
“Of course,” Phillip answered, then left.
Magnus pulled up Rachelle’s contact information on his phone. He’d never been one to soften the truth, but this was a novel situation, and Dr. Stein’s words still rang in his ears. Tempting as it was to tell Finn his movie-star hero was not worth his adoration, and Rachelle that she was right to be worried about her brother, neither one of them had done a thing to deserve the pain that news would bring them.
Magnus had forced foreign leaders to change the terms of their treaties with his father without ever asking for advice on the matter. He was used to quickly determining what needed to be done in a situation and then doing it. Wins required decisive actions.
I won’t be able to help Westerly until I understand him. What the fuck am I supposed to understand about a man who has decided his life has no value?
Pacing the office again, Magnus asked himself a question he hadn’t in a long time: What would my father do?
A short time later, armed with information about the Westerly family and a plan, Magnus called Rachelle. She answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“It’s Magnus.”
“Calling to gloat? You’ll be disappointed to hear that I’m having lunch at a lovely, very public outdoor café. The sun is shining. The food is delicious. I couldn’t be in a better mood.”
A lie, but there was no need to call her out for it. If she was indeed sitting in a café at that moment, he was again impressed with her. That kind of grit was the way he would advise anyone to deal with a public scandal. “I have determined the source of the video clip. Would you like her apology to be private or public?”
Her gasp was audible. “It wasn’t you?”
“Little Rachelle, why would I want to see you hurt?”
“I thought—you said . . .”
“It was not me, but I assure you the person who was involved will regret the folly.”
“No. Please don’t. I’m not the vengeful type. But I am confused. Why would anyone want to hurt me? I’m no one.”
He could have argued that she was far from being a no one, but that was a conversation for another time. “Jealousy trumps decency in some. I’m afraid it was the attention I showed you that brought this on you.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s not actually as bad as I thought. The more attention the clip gets, the more people comment that obviously it was reversed. In fact, my phone has been ringing all day with people lending their support. I’ve never received so many invitations from complete strangers. Some of them are prominent enough that Eric must have felt bad about leaving last night and made a few calls. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense. Unless you—”
“I did not.”
She was quiet, then said, “He never came home last night.”
“Rachelle—”
“Yes?”
“What do you know about your brother’s private life?”
“Why do you ask? Have you seen him? Do you know where he is?”
Rather than lying, he said, “I’m still gathering information. However, if I could locate your brother, what would you want from him?”
“That’s a strange question. Is it because you think I’d somehow stand in the way of your promise to that little boy?”
“Yes,” he said, because denying that would have required an assessment of why he really was asking, and he wasn’t ready to do that.
“We aren’t on opposites sides, Magnus. I love that there’s a little boy out there whose life may be changed simply by meeting my brother. But what do I want?” She paused, and let out an audible breath. “Eric moved to London to build a life away from us. I don’t know why, but I sense he regrets that. I used to think he was naturally aloof, but lately I’ve wondered if he feels . . . abandoned. I’m sorry. I’m sure you don’t want to know all of that, but I’m worried about him. He shouldn’t be alone. I need him to know we’re here for him if he needs us. That’s all I want to say.”
Magnus sat on the arm of the office couch. He was driven by facts and duty. She operated on emotion and instinct. She felt that her brother’s welfare was her responsibility. That motivation he understood.
“I know where he is,” Magnus said.
“You do?” Her voice rose several octaves. “Where?”
“I’ll send a car for you. Be ready in an hour.”
“Ready? Like dressed? I’m already dressed.”
“I mean packed. You and your brother will accompany me back to Vandorra this evening.”
“You’ve spoken to Eric? He’s agreed to go?”
“A car will retrieve you from his home in an hour.” Magnus hung up and called for Phillip.
“Yes?” Phillip inquired from the door.
“Get Westerly up, showered, and dressed. Bring him to me when he’s presentable. His sister will be here in less than two hours. Have a helicopter ready to take us to the airfield. We return to Vandorra tonight.”
“And if Westerly resists?”
“Do your best not to hurt him, but use whatever force is necessary. None of my plan works if he’s dead.”
Rachelle clutched her phone on her lap in the backseat of a Rolls-Royce as it sped beyond the city limits of London. Her stomach was churning nervously, even though she kept assuring herself she’d made the right choice.
She’d almost called home and told her family where she and Eric were headed, but she wanted to tread softer this time. She’d learned that Eric was obsessive when it came to his privacy. Perhaps he didn’t want there to be a chance the press would know where he was going. Of course she wished he’d been the one to tell her he’d decided to do the appearance, but what mattered was that he wanted her to go on this trip with him. It was an opportunity she wasn’t about to pass up—not for all the stomach butterflies in the world.
A little voice in her head kept whispering that something wasn’t right. Perhaps it was the additional man in the front seat. Two drivers?
One to drive and one to make sure I don’t run? She laughed nervously, then squashed the thought.
I’m going on a trip with my brother. There’s nothing scary about this. The additional man is probably in case I had a lot of luggage.
She remembered Magnus’s warning that he would use her if he had to. She shook her head. I have definitely watched too many movies. Instead of wondering what they’d do if I said no to going, I should be glad they asked me to.
She was excited to see Magnus again. Oh, she’d deny it to him, but there was no use lying to herself. It was impossible not to wonder if what she’d felt the night before would still be there.
Would his cocky smile send her heart racing?
Would every innocent touch of his hand inspire instant, filthy fantasies of where she wanted his hands to go?
Was it wrong to want to feel sexy and confident again even if she knew it couldn’t lead to anything? I’ll be back in my old life soon enough—I just want one more taste of how it feels to want someone that much.
And hopefully when I go home, I can find a sweet, humble, normal man who makes me feel the same way.