Page 6 of His Highness's Hidden Heir

“Even more reason to use a discreet exit,” Ulmer muttered and looked expectantly to Magnus.

Magnus ignored the hint to leave. His hackles were still up, his attention fixated on Lexi. He sensed aggression rising off her, but it wasn’t directed at them despite how she’d been treated. It was the defensive kind that hunched her shoulders forward.

“Pick up the phone, you—Oh!” She halted as she arrived at the corner and kept her face to the wall. Her voice seethed through her clenched teeth. “How does Carmichael know where I am? Because he’shere. In Paris. At myhotel. Did Janet post about this trip? Because I told her to wait until I was home. And thatchildyou hired as a bodyguard ate a bad shrimp and can’t leave the—”

She turned to pace the other way and froze as she saw they were all watching and listening. The flags of color across her cheekbones deepened to crimson. Her mouth tightened.

“Call me back.” She ended the call and let her arm fall to her side. Her throat flexed as she swallowed, but she kept her chin up. “Which one of you is in charge?” she asked loftily.

“Ha!” Magnus barked. “Who the hell do you think?”

Her spine stiffened a fraction more. “If you needed a bodyguard right now, immediately, who would you call?”

“Money is no object?”

“It’s definitely an object, but so long as I get my money’s worth, I’ll pay whatever is necessary.” She was pretending to take all of this in stride, but he heard the quaver of real fear underpinning her words.

It was disturbing, further abrading his protective instincts.

Magnus touched his smartwatch, sliding his fingertip to place a call.

“Your Royal Highness,” a pleasant female voice answered. “How may I assist you?”

“I need someone in Paris as soon as possible, Kiran.”

“Can you wait one moment, please?” She put him on hold long enough for Ulmer to mutter a dismay-laden, “Sir.”

Magnus understood his private secretary’s concern. Magnus was involving the very security firm that trained his own men, but theywerethe best. And they hadn’t become the best by allowing themselves to be compromised by actresses with soiled reputations. Involving them would allow Magnus to run a dossier on Lexi and learn very quickly if she posed any real threat to him.

“Sir?” Kiran’s voice returned. “My brother, Vijay, is on his way to Paris as we speak. He said he will join you first thing in the morning. If your team forwards more information, he should have everything you require in place by then. Will that suffice?”

“Thank you, Kiran. Lexi Alexander has a stalker, last name Carmichael.” He glanced at Lexi.

“Aaron,” she provided. “There’s ample coverage of it online. I have a restraining order against him.”

“Did you get all that? He’s here in our hotel,” Magnus added.

“I’ll make hotel security aware of that and have them forward tapes for any legal action that may arise. Shall I ask them to provide a guard for Ms. Alexander?”

“No,” Magnus decided with a leap of dark satisfaction. “She’ll be safe with me until Vijay arrives.”

Magnus ended the call, then waved Lexi toward the door to the service hall, where one of his bodyguards was still stationed.

She hesitated, but when she thought of walking out to the mezzanine and around to the elevators, toward Carmichael, her blood congealed.

Forcing a swallow past her dry throat, she complied. She ought to protest that she only needed an escort to her own room, but the fact was, she really needed a moment of feeling safe so she could compose herself and think this through.

Not that her brain managed anything except sparking awareness, crammed into an elevator with the prince and three other men. She pressed into the back to make room. Magnus joined her there, facing her, while the rest of the men entered and faced front.

Disapproval was wafting like musky cologne from the white-haired man who’d gone through her handbag. He didn’t like herat all.

Prince Magnus didn’t seem to care. He touched beneath her chin again, angling her face slightly before he caressed her still-tender cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“It’s fading.”

She touched where the knock had happened, probing, but also using it as an excuse to brush away his touch because it was far too disturbing, sending trickles of sensual awareness into her throat and down to her chest.

“Why are you helping me?” she asked.

---