The Billionaire King’s Heir (European Billionaire Beaus Book 3)

by Leslie North

  What she saw on the other side wasn’t a reporter.

  It was Rafael.

  * * *

  Rafael held his breath as the door flew open, revealing Felicity’s petite frame. Her blue eyes were wide, and she stuck her head an inch outside, searching for reporters.

  He was frozen.

  She was still just as gorgeous as she’d been when he first met her—and when she had left him behind. Her hair was pulled back in a bun at the nape of her neck, but tendrils had escaped around her face. He was torn—he wanted to look at the woman he’d loved, and wanted nothing to do with the woman who had broken his heart.

  But he did want to see his daughter.

  Felicity looked from side to side, then beckoned him in. “Come in, come in.” Then her eyes moved past him to the six men who had taken up their positions in the hallway. “Wow,” she breathed. “Nobody’s getting past them.”

  “No.”

  She stepped back, and he stepped inside.

  They stood there together in the apartment’s narrow entryway. She was so alive. She was so…present. She stood right in front of him, close enough to touch.

  She seemed to come back to herself, shaking off the stress of the reporters, and went into the apartment.

  He followed close behind.

  The main room they stepped into was a living room, separated from the kitchen by a pass-through bar with two barstools perched neatly in front of the countertop. Neat piles of envelopes were pressed up to one corner.

  Rafael tried his best to catch his breath.

  He turned back toward the living room, his heart in his throat, and there she was.

  There they were.

  Felicity stood in the center of the room, the little girl from the picture in her arms. She held Hope almost defensively, with her body turned slightly away from him, and once more shock rippled down Rafael’s spine. He thought he’d been prepared, after the long plane ride from Stolvenia and across the United States, but the sight of them together still knocked the breath out of him. Hope looked so much like her mother, with big blue eyes alight with curiosity. But there was also something of him in her face, too. He’d know it anywhere.

  Rafael tried to shake himself out of it. What was he supposed to do? He didn’t want to overwhelm his daughter, or get too close, and the questions clanged in his mind.

  But his emotions didn’t matter. What mattered—now and always—was what was best for his country. And right now, he was looking at the future of Stolvenia—the heir to his throne.

  “This is Hope,” Felicity said softly, and then she took a tentative step toward him, then another, and Rafael forgot to breathe.

  Felicity kept coming forward until they were within arm’s reach.

  The future of Stolvenia, he insisted to himself. His only heir. She was a guarantee that the monarchy could continue, if only he could keep it together long enough to give it to her.

  But all those weighty concerns dissolved under Hope’s curious gaze. She stared at him frankly. “Hi,” said Hope. “Hi, hi.”

  “Hello,” he said, and then, without thinking, he stuck his finger out at her, almost as if they were about to shake hands.

  Rafael was mortified. It was such a babyish gesture. What had he been thinking? But before he could pull his hand back, Hope reached out and wrapped her own fingers around it.

  He kept perfectly still.

  Hope wriggled against her mother. “Up,” she said. “Up.”

  The little girl reached for Rafael.

  He took her in his arms. What else could he do? She had asked, and he obliged, and he was rewarded with her little face beaming at him, a dimple in one cheek.

  “Hi,” she said again, softly, and then she rested her head against his shoulder.

  One breath, he was a man. The next, he was a father. It was almost as if he’d known her all along.

  2

  “Tent,” Hope commanded, pointing back into the living room toward her small play tent. She leaned away from Rafael, and though he wanted to keep holding her, he set her gently on the ground. She ran for the tent. “Go in my tent!” she said, gleefully, happily, as if the rest of the world didn’t matter. To her, it didn’t.

  Felicity made a sound behind him, and he turned back.

  “I’ll stay with her,” said Joy. “If you two want a minute to talk.”

  It was a good idea. They needed to formulate a plan. With every moment that went by, Rafael felt the presence of the crowd outside more sharply, pressing in on his consciousness. There were simply too many people out there for a security team of six, especially now that he was with Felicity and Hope, along with Joy. He followed Felicity into the kitchen area. It wasn’t truly separated from the living room, but a happy squeal from Hope told him she wasn’t paying attention to them any longer. She was so changeable, going from one thing to the next so quickly. How was that going to fit in with his plan, with his life?

  Felicity faced him, blue eyes worried. “Rafael, I’m—I’m sorry about all of this.” She bit her lip, and he was struck by how quickly his attention could zero in on such a small thing about her. She had the most luscious lips he’d ever seen on a woman. “This whole thing is a mess, and I feel responsible.”

  He steadied himself with a breath. “My people are still gathering the evidence about the situation.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to name what his mother had allegedly done, but he did add, “Knowing my mother, I’m sure she was…forceful in convincing you to leave. But why didn’t you come to me?” Anger flashed. “All you had to do was reach out to me, and you didn’t.”

  Felicity covered her face with her hands. “I know, Rafael. It just seemed simpler to…go along with it. She implied that she’d discussed it all with you—that you were on board with everything she said. I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth, but…” She trailed off, then steadied herself. “I didn’t think it would come to this.”

  “You don’t have to explain right now,” he said, though everything in him was aching for Felicity to give him an explanation that made the pain of the last few years lessen. “In fact, I think we should set all this aside for later. There are more pressing concerns.”

  “Like what?” Felicity glanced toward the front window.

  “Things back in Stolvenia are not exactly…settled.”

  Felicity frowned. “I’ve read a bit about it in the news, but—”

  “There’s going to be a referendum. The people are going to decide whether to remove the monarchy from power. Now that the opposition has seized on my secret family—and the payments from the monarchy to keep it quiet—they’re trying to frame this as proof that the monarchy can’t be trusted. We need to redirect the narrative.”

  Felicity was shaking her head. “What are we supposed to do? What am I supposed to do—”

  “There’s also the matter of Hope.”

  She went silent, looking up at him levelly. “What about her?”

  “She’s going to need security.” That was the part that Felicity didn’t seem to understand—not yet, anyway. He could feel the anxious energy coming off her in waves, but he imagined that like most people, she expected for all this to blow over. “As my daughter, she’s the next heir to Stolvenia. She has to have appropriate housing, a team of people ensuring her safety—”

  Felicity took in a deep breath and leaned against the counter. “There’s no way, Rafael. I can’t afford anything more than this apartment—where would I put a security team? How could I pay them? How will I ever—”

  He wanted to reach out and smooth a hand over her hair, but he resisted. “I have a plan,” he said quietly. “It will make everything easier and safer—for us and for Hope.”

  She looked up at him like he was a life preserver and she was drowning. “What is that plan? Please, tell me.”

  “You’ll all come with me to Stolvenia.”

  “My sister—” Felicity started to say, but Rafael didn’t stop.

  “Joy w
ill come, too. I know how important she is to you. You would never need to worry about leaving her behind. I will get you the best of the best.” His throat tightened with an emotion he couldn’t name—a storm of emotions. “I will provide our daughter with a life fit for a princess. And also, I’ll provide Joy with the best in-home care she can ever hope to receive.”

  “You would do that?” Felicity whispered.

  “Yes.” He steeled himself for the final words. “All you need to do is play a role for me, and it’s a simple one. All you need to do is carry on with the charade that we’re in love—and about to be married.”

  * * *

  A proposal. That’s what it was, though Felicity could hardly wrap her mind around it. Rafael looked down at her, dark eyes serious and yet lit with determination. Nothing about this seemed quite real. He was truly tall, dark, and handsome—and a king, to boot. Felicity felt a little light-headed standing this close to him in her tiny kitchen. She could smell the rich, soapy scent of him in the air.

  Felicity shook her head, trying to clear her mind. “Why can’t Hope and I stay where we are?” As soon as the words left her lips, she knew it was a futile question.

  “The world knows now that Hope is my daughter,” Rafael said, with no hint of how ridiculous her question was. But it was obvious they couldn’t stay here. Not in this apartment. Maybe not in this city. “And, as the rightful heir to the throne, Hope should be raised in Stolvenia, where she can learn what it means to be queen.”

  “What if she doesn’t want to be queen?” Felicity asked, feeling enormously out of her depth.

  “Once she’s an adult, she can choose to remove herself from the line of succession,” Rafael said, his voice so smooth and soothing that it almost lulled the anxiety she felt. Almost. “But until she’s of the age where she could make that kind of decision, she needs to come to Stolvenia to…” He raised his hands in the air, as if he was at a loss for any other explanation. “Be an heir. It’s the safest, and smartest, decision. And you’ll need security, too—security you’ll have in the palace. You can’t hide forever. Not anymore.”

  Felicity felt the blush fly to her cheeks. “Security for me? I’m no one.”

  “Anyone I marry will no longer be a private citizen.”

  Despite the fact that she felt like swooning, the marriage proposal brought her up short. “But…why? I know I’m saying that over and over, but why do we need to get married? We don’t even—I left, and—”

  “Because I need to stabilize my country.” When Rafael spoke about Stolvenia, he seemed an inch taller, more solemn, more kingly. “The people threatening the monarchy—I don’t think they’re suited to take over leadership. I can’t allow them to throw the country into chaos, so I need the people to rally behind me as their king. And while the opposition meant for this to undermine my position, it’s backfired on them. People are fascinated by the story of our romance. If we give them a love story with a happily ever after, they’ll stand behind us. The referendum will fail. My throne—and Hope’s—will stay secure.”

  It was strange, the combination of disappointment and relief Felicity felt. She’d half expected him to say the reason they should marry was because he had never stopped loving her, every single day since she left, and it was tearing him apart to be without her. But of course Rafael wouldn’t say that. Rafael was the king.

  “Do you see why I need to keep this process moving, at least until the referendum is decided?” He raised a hand and ran it over his hair. “I promise, it’ll benefit us both.” He took a step back, eyes catching on the pile of bills in the corner of the counter. Felicity kept them all in the same place, telling herself that they couldn’t take over her thoughts if they were relegated to one corner of the apartment. “All your financial burdens would be erased.”

  Hot shame flooded her face, and Felicity flinched back. “I’m doing just fine, you know. I don’t need a bailout from the country of Stolvenia. I don’t need a palace. Or you. I’m doing fine.”

  “Not anymore,” Rafael said softly. In the pause after his words, she could hear the shouts of reporters outside. They were getting louder again. And what he’d said was true. How could she keep her family safe if they stayed here, now that the secret was out?

  “No,” she admitted. “Not anymore.”

  “You still look beautiful,” he said, his voice low. “But I can tell that you’re tired, Felicity. In Stolvenia, you wouldn’t have to work. Your whole world could revolve around Hope and Joy and whatever personal projects you choose to pursue. Would you…like that?” He seemed suddenly tentative. “Would that be enough for you?”

  It sounded like a wonderful dream, but something that couldn’t be her reality. Still, the questions rose in her mind. “How far would we have to take it?” she asked. “Our fake relationship—how far would it extend into our…personal lives?”

  “The courtship and marriage would be for the public only.” He sounded definitive. “Behind closed doors, there would be no expectation of romance. Once the referendum is over, we can live mostly separate lives. Of course, you would be entitled to all the same benefits and lifestyle. I would never displace you.”

  She looked into his eyes then, and for all the steadiness in his voice, Felicity was sure he felt more than he was letting on.

  After a moment, Rafael looked away.

  In the living room, Hope giggled as Joy sang a nonsense song in her silliest voice.

  Outside, the noise from the crowd of reporters rose. It sounded like more of them had shown up. No surprises there—Rafael wouldn’t have come in an inconspicuous vehicle.

  Felicity looked back up into Rafael’s eyes. “I’ll do it.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You will?”

  “I’ll do anything to get out of here.” Decision made, she released a heavy breath and stood up tall. “How soon can we leave?”

  3

  It was what she’d been afraid of all this time.

  Rafael swept back into her life, and everything was upside down, turned inside out.

  And yet…now that they were away from her apartment, it seemed like the only decision she could have made.

  Rafael had rented them two large suites at the Des Lux hotel in downtown Des Moines, which had the added benefit of having no front lawns the reporters could gather on. It had been peaceful.

  This morning was another story.

  Rafael had woken her early, knocking gently on the door, and she’d popped up, going immediately to answer it.

  “Good morning,” she whispered, instantly aware of her ratty pajamas. Rafael was already immaculately dressed and radiating the kind of energy a man gets from a good exercise session—or another kind of session, she thought, blushing. “I set an alarm for an hour from now. Isn’t that enough time to get to the airport?”

  He’d given her an encouraging smile. “It would have been, yes. For a private citizen.”

  It had turned out that there was a lot more to “going to the airport” as part of the royal entourage than simply getting into the car and driving to the terminal. The moment Felicity stepped out of the shower, she was met by two women—one to do her hair and makeup and one who’d dragged a rack of clothes into the room behind her. For Felicity, she’d brought a selection of skirt suits in pastel colors. Every suit had a coordinating outfit for Hope.

  She felt like she’d stepped into a tornado and came out the other side a more polished version of herself, wearing a suit that was nicer than anything she’d ever been able to afford. Her hair had been styled into a sleeker version of the bun she usually wore it in, with not a lock out of place, and her makeup was subtle but professional in a way that Felicity had never been able to pull off.

  But there was still more to do. Traveling with Joy and Hope was an exercise in master planning.

  Felicity swallowed a huff of frustration at the ongoing lecture of dos and don’ts. She’d walked onto a plane before. She’d even done it while wearing high heels before. And
all the rules for boarding the plane were less important to her than making sure all of Joy’s medical equipment was packed and ready to go. Not to mention, God help them if Hope’s Mr. Bear, the toy she was most attached to, didn’t get a seat.

  Rafael kept breezing in and out of the room, looking perfect and unflustered as Felicity checked over her own bags as well as the bags for Joy and Hope one more time. It was easier for her to do it, since Joy couldn’t heft all the bags onto her lap by herself. She was with Hope in the second suite. But Felicity was running out of time.

  “Are you all caught up on the protocol?” Rafael said.

  He had always been a man of protocol, even when his father and older brother had been alive and he’d had no expectation of inheriting the throne. He would always be that man. Felicity couldn’t let herself fall for him again, knowing that she’d always be second to the rules of royalty.

  Again, she wondered what she was getting herself into. But this wasn’t for her. This was for her daughter. All of this was. Stolvenia was where her daughter needed to be, so that was where they’d go.

  She turned to face him. How could he be so oblivious? “I’ve got it. But I could use a little help here.” Felicity motioned to the room around her.

  Rafael looked a little surprised. “How can I help?”

  She scooped up Hope’s diaper bag from the floor and tossed it to him. “Make sure everything we’ll need is inside—especially Hope’s bear. You can ask Joy if there’s anything else missing, but we need to have it packed before we leave.”

  “All right,” he said slowly, and Felicity turned back to Joy’s bags. It was going to be a long day if Rafael struggled with a simple task like packing a diaper bag.

  And oh, he did. He walked slowly from suite to suite, peppering Joy with questions and packing the bag with all the speed of a hundred-year-old tortoise.