The Billionaire King’s Heir: European Billionaire Beaus, #3

By Leslie North

Felicity was the only person in the world who knew her daughter, Hope, is heir to the Stolvenia throne. Until a newspaper leaks the story and now everyone knows—including Hope's father, King Rafael. The media storm surrounding what's being called the century's most romantic story is far greater than either could have anticipated.

 

On the plus side, with the public crazy about their "love" story, support for a referendum to dissolve the monarchy is waning. And when Rafael shows up at her door with a proposal, it doesn't take much convincing for Felicity to agree to a marriage in name only—at least until the votes are counted and the referendum fails. She needs to take care of her daughter and her wheelchair-bound sister who requires expensive medical care. Surely, becoming a queen and molding herself into a proper royal won't be that much of a sacrifice to make to give her family comfort and security. And if she still loves Rafael? Well, that was another thing she could deal with.

 

Rafael has never stopped thinking about Felicity and wondering why she'd left him. She was the only woman he'd ever loved and for the past three years, he'd been trying to forget her. Now, not only had he found her, he'd also found out he was a father—something his devious late mother had tried to ensure he would never know. All that time, he'd thought Felicity cold and heartless, but now with her acting her part as the future queen, he's seeing the future he'd once dreamed of for them—and the chance to bond with his daughter, to boot. The only trouble is…he has no idea how to be a husband. Or a father. Or anything other than a king. He's lived for his people for so long—is it too late to learn how to live for himself, and open his heart to true love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leslie North
• Release date: Jul 2, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393185130

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Salem, the man from Stolvenia’s intelligence agency who gave King Rafael briefings three days a week, seemed to dread this morning’s briefing. He kept pulling at his collar with subtle little movements Rafael couldn’t help but notice.

The man looked nervously down at the folder in front of him. We’ve come to the last item on today’s briefing, and I’m afraid it’s a bit of a… His voice trailed off and he reached up and adjusted his tie. I’m afraid there’s not an easy way to—

Rafael’s entire soul sighed. Just tell me, Salem. I’m not going to dismiss you from palace service if you’ve got uncomfortable news. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Of course it wouldn’t. His country might be small, but it had its share of problems. And when anything went wrong, where else were the people to look but to their king to make things right again? It didn’t matter whether or not the issue—social, political, economic, environmental—was his fault. It was always his responsibility. That’s what it meant to rule.

Some news has come to light regarding Felicity Callard.

Rafael’s heart stopped; he was sure of it.

Say that again?

Details have…surfaced, and some of them… Now Salem looked pale. Some of them could be viewed as rather scandalous by the general public.

His mind whirled. Felicity Callard had blown into his life like a hurricane nearly three years ago, and just when he thought they were going to tip right into a permanent union, she disappeared.

No—it was more accurate to say that she ran. One moment, she was with him in Stolvenia. The next, she’d had to go back to the United States to be with her sister, and had insisted on breaking all contact with Rafael. He’d thought she’d change her mind, that she’d reach out when she was ready. She hadn’t. So that had been that.

At least that’s what Rafael told himself, along with everyone else. He was over her. He had forgotten her.

Rafael cleared his throat, trying to school his face into a more neutral expression. How was this discovered?

Salem straightened his tie. "We have an informant in one of the opposition papers. They have the story, King Rafael. At least, they have part of the story. And it’s going to break."

These days, Rafael badly needed to avoid scandalous breaking news, and for obvious reasons. An opposition group had taken root in Stolvenia claiming that all the nation’s problems could be solved by dissolving the monarchy. The idea had spread like a cancer, undermining the people’s trust in Rafael’s leadership. An upcoming referendum would decide the issue once and for all, and with the date fast approaching, any scandal could be fatal.

Polls currently showed a small majority of the country sided with the royals—thanks in no small part to the massive popularity of his brothers’ whirlwind romances. But that just made the opposition more desperate as they dug for a game changer.

Salem was hedging.

What are you not telling me, Salem?

The intelligence officer looked him in the eye, steeling himself.

"She had a child. Your child."

Salem picked up a printed photo from the folder and slid it across the desk to Rafael. He took it in his hands. It was a photo of a little girl, maybe two years old, with blonde ringlets, huge blue eyes, and an infectious grin. She stood on a checked blanket laid out on the grass—a park or lawn somewhere. The sun caught in her hair, and she looked like she was laughing. Her small hands held a little bubble machine and the bubbles flew upward in front of her. Rafael could almost see the scene playing out in front of his eyes, almost hear her laughter ringing in his ears.

My child, he repeated slowly, emotions circling themselves in the pit of his gut. His child. Felicity had become pregnant with his child, and she’d hid it from him.

Why?

He looked back up at Salem, but the man looked more nervous than ever. Rafael’s stomach sank. There’s something else, isn’t there? He let out a harsh laugh. What could be more scandalous than a king with a secret family?

It would be more of a blow, Salem said cautiously, if the opposition had reason to believe that the royal family had been…complicit…for generations.

Hot indignation flared. How could any other generations have been involved in Felicity Callard spiriting my daughter to the United States?

They have some kind of evidence that your mother, the queen, was involved.

Rafael felt the blood drain out of his face. My mother?

Salem shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. Signs point to some kind of payment, arranged between the queen and Felicity. It would explain… He cleared his throat again. It would explain her rapid departure from Stolvenia.

And hiding my child from me. Rafael’s stomach churned. His mother had been dead for over a year, but that wouldn’t matter to the press. Do we have our own evidence?

We’re working on it now, sir.

In the meantime…in the meantime, he stared at the photo of the little girl, his mind racing down all the corridors of possibility and coming up against the same dead ends.

He had a daughter.

He had a daughter.

And he had never seen her.

He might be over Felicity. His feelings for her might be long gone, fled back to America with her. But a child changed everything—absolutely everything.

He folded his hands on top of the desk and put on his best poker face. He couldn’t let it show how much this was affecting him. Not here. Not now. Not ever. Being king meant he had to view every situation for the way it impacted his country. His personal feelings had to come last.

Where is Felicity?

A city called Des Moines, Iowa, he said carefully. She’s been living there for the last three years, working in Human Resources for a care facility called Westwood Crossings. It’s where her sister, Joy, lives.

When does the story break?

This week, at the latest.

Rafael instantly understood what this meant. Somehow, some way, he needed to take control over the story and frame it to help Stolvenia rather than hurt it. He needed to meet his daughter. And he needed to save the monarchy.

What do you need from me, Your Majesty? What do you want to do now?

Rafael looked up from the photograph. Have my staff ready the plane.

1

Felicity was a prisoner in her own home. 

Back when she’d fallen in love with Rafael, she’d wondered what it would be like if they stayed together, got married, built a life together as royals.

Now she knew. You had no privacy.

Not that she had any privacy now, even as just the mother of a royal child.

Those years of keeping Hope’s father a secret were over. The whole world knew. And the whole world had gathered around the small apartment she shared with her daughter, Hope, banging on the front door at all hours. They were relentless. She couldn’t walk past the living room window without them shouting questions up at the closed panes.

Felicity thought that when Rafael’s mother, the queen of Stolvenia, passed away, the fear would stop. She wouldn’t have to worry that anyone was watching her. She couldn’t believe she’d been so wrong.

Another thundering knock sounded at the door, hard enough to rattle the wood on its hinges.

Do you think you should look at other living arrangements? Joy asked.

Like what? This had been the largest apartment Felicity could afford on the salary from her human resources job, and it was a one-bedroom. She and Hope had to share, which was becoming increasingly difficult. Hope was a light sleeper, and she woke up whenever Felicity turned over in bed. Felicity rubbed at her eyes. It was Saturday, her day off, and she’d had some wild hope that the press would take the day off, too.

No such luck.

You could tour other complexes, Joy suggested, reaching down to pat Hope’s head that rested against her knee. I’d donate to the cause, but—

Don’t even think about it. Joy’s disability payments just covered her place at Westwood Crossings, and more often than not, Felicity found herself pitching in extra hours to cover the cost of the care her sister needed. She still suffered complications from the car accident that had orphaned them when the sisters were nine, and they’d cobbled together a tenable situation. Felicity wasn’t going to disrupt it by starting a big move.

She couldn’t go outside, anyway. They were surrounded.

There’s no crossing the moat, Joy, she said.

Hope picked up another teddy bear from the floor and held it up to Joy with a big smile on her face. Joy accepted it with a grin and bounced it around in a little dance to make Hope giggle. Felicity felt the familiar rush of love at the sight of them playing together. Her family meant everything to her—and she’d do anything to keep them happy and safe. That meant she’d find a way to get them through this. She just…wasn’t sure how.

They were going to have to wait out the weekend. A judge wouldn’t be able to hear her case for a restraining order against the crowd outside until Monday, and Felicity doubted she could get one anyway, since the apartment complex wasn’t technically private property. There was very little Joy could do about it. Felicity had brought her here until the afternoon after her sister had insisted on helping, but her company was all she could give.

As Felicity watched, Joy leaned forward in her chair to speak softly to Hope. She and her twin weren’t identical, and though their appearance was very similar, Joy was the prettier one by far. Her blonde hair fell in naturally gentle waves down her back and she’d always been so skilled at makeup.

Felicity ran a hand over her own hair. It was in the functional bun she always wore it in for work, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d put on makeup. It was busy in the human resources department at Westwood Crossings, and when she wasn’t in her office, she was with Joy or caring for Hope.

Hope was as flawless as Joy. Felicity couldn’t resist crossing the room to make a minute adjustment to the small pink bow clipped in Hope’s hair. Her heart swelled with love. Honestly, she’d thought teething was going to be the toughest thing about this age, but it wasn’t. It was the worry. Was she spending enough time with Hope? Did she keep waking up all night because they were too separated during the day?

And then there was the matter of the crowd outside. 

Joy’s transporters would be able to come and go, but Felicity herself couldn’t. The thought made her feel restless. 

She leaned down and kissed Hope’s cheek, then straightened up with a sigh. On Monday, she’d have to face the crowds whether she liked it or not.