Marc balled his hands into fists at his sides. “She doesn’t need your assistance, I assure you.”
Renault turned back to Kate, bowed slightly and kissed Cecile’s hand. “You are a lovely girl, Cecile.”
Kate wanted to cheer when Cecile pulled her hand away and hid her face against Kate’s shoulder. Either she had stranger phobia or good instincts. Kate assumed the latter, considering she had taken to Kate, Marc and his mother without hesitation.
Before Renault passed Marc at the door, Marc told him, “You will practice the utmost in decorum where Dr. Milner is concerned or you will answer to me. Is that clear?”
Renault sent Kate a lecherous glance, then glared at Marc. “Quite clear, Your Majesty. I do not intend to tread on another man’s territory.”
With that, he was gone and Marc looked as if he could blow a fuse when he faced Kate again. “Did he do anything inappropriate?” he demanded.
Kate considered telling him about Renault’s intimations but decided to wait until later when she was assured they were alone. “His kind are a dime a dozen and I know how to handle them.”
“And you will tell me if he is the least bit out of line.” It wasn’t a request.
“I promise I’ll tell you if I have to hurt him.” She handed Marc the baby and smiled. “Now you go with your…king, Cecile, and I’ll be back later today.” She kissed the baby’s cheek one last time and reined in her urge to do the same to Marc. “Be a good girl, sweetie. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I’m certain she’ll look forward to your return.” Marc leaned toward Kate’s ear and whispered, “And so will I, so hurry.”
Then Marc left the room, leaving Kate standing alone in a state of confusion. Couldn’t Marc make up his mind? He was making her head spin with his no-we-can’t and yes-we-will attitude. He did want her; that was becoming apparent to Kate each time they were together. Yet he kept saying he couldn’t have her. But if Marc’s resistance completely waned, how far would she allow things to go, since she recognized it wouldn’t be more than a fling? Did she dare make love with him?
Yes. No question about it. She wasn’t looking for a knight’s rescue, only a night of incredible lovemaking. A little adventure. She wanted to experience true freedom in his arms without worrying about pleasing anyone aside from herself—and Marc DeLoria.
She shivered thinking about it, thinking about him, thinking about all the ways he could take her places she’d never been before.
Imagine that, making love with a king. Now if only the king would cooperate.
Five
After Kate conducted the lab tests, Dr. Martine asked if she could possibly see some patients—minor cases, most involving common colds and well-baby checks. She agreed and was accompanied by a very nice Australian-born nurse named Caroline, who aided Kate in interpreting conditions of those who spoke only French or Castilian, and there were more than a few.
By that afternoon, Kate was high on adrenaline but still concerned about the language barriers. She made a mental note to get out the tapes and books to study when she had a spare minute. If she ever had a spare minute. She also needed to call home soon. She hadn’t spoken with her mother, hadn’t even told her that she’d accepted the position. Kate refused to perceive that as a problem. It was high time for her family to learn to live without her constant attention.
Fortunately, Renault had been scarce during the day, which was probably the reason why the clinic had been running so far behind, not that Kate had minded his absence or treating his patients. She’d welcomed rejoining the world of medicine—and avoiding confronting Marc with the knowledge she now held—the test results.
After arriving back at the palace, she waited in Marc’s private study with that knowledge while Mr. Nicholas summoned the king. It could be a while, Nicholas had told her, since Marc had gone out for a drive. Kate assumed this was Marc’s only means to relax—or to escape. And when he found out that Cecile shared his rare blood type, he might climb back into his coveted car and keep driving.
Kate milled around the office, pulling various books from the shelves, mainly from nervousness instead of real interest. Most involved business acumen, as far as she could tell, since all were written in French. Except for one well-worn English volume of Hamlet that looked as though it had been handed down through the generations. Ironic, Kate decided, since to be or not to be was definitely the question of the moment in terms of Marc’s possible parental ties to Cecile.
Yet he’d been so adamant he wasn’t Cecile’s father that Kate almost believed him. In some ways she still did, since she really had no reason not to take him at his word. She also knew that accidents happened, and unless Cecile’s mother came forward, they might never know the truth.
When the phone shrilled, Kate nearly jumped out of her functional black shoes. She waited while the phone rang again for someone to answer. Maybe she should answer it. It could be Marc’s private line and he might be calling her to say he’d been detained. If not, she would have to take a message.
But how should she answer? The DeLoria Residence? The King’s Office?
On the fourth ring, Kate leaned over the desk, grabbed the receiver and settled for a simple, “Hello.”
A long silence ensued until a breathy feminine voice asked, “Is this Marc’s secretary?”
Kate was overcome with an insane spark of jealousy. “No, this is not Marc’s secretary.”
The woman released a grating laugh. “Then you must be my replacement. I do hope you are taking advantage of Marc’s expertise. He is quite a skilled lover, isn’t he? Has he taken you to the little mountain cabin yet?”
Kate had no desire to confirm or deny anything to this woman, especially since she appeared to be one of Marc’s erstwhile lovers. “May I ask who’s calling?”
“Why, darling, this is Elsa,” she fairly purred.
As if that should mean something to Kate. “Well, Elsa, is there something I can do for you?” Darling.
“I am calling to see if Marc received the gift I had delivered to the palace.”
Gift? Surely she didn’t mean… “Does this gift happen to have blue eyes and blond hair?”
“Why yes, darling, it does. A little reminder of our time together. Tell Marc to enjoy.”
The line went dead and Kate could only stare at the receiver before slamming the phone back on its cradle.
Obviously she had been wrong to believe Marc. Obviously this Elsa was Cecile’s mother, if you could actually call her that. What kind of woman would just drop her baby off at a gate and then leave? A heartless, cruel woman who didn’t have a maternal bone in her body.
Kate’s heart felt weighted with the knowledge that her questions had now been answered. Marc had fathered a child by some flighty femme fatale who had no business being a parent. And Kate dared Marc to deny his daughter now.
Marc couldn’t deny he was in a huge hurry to see Kate. He entered the palace through the back access at a fast clip, Nicholas dogging his every step. “Where is Dr. Milner now?”
“She is waiting in your study, Your Eagerness.”
Marc muttered an oath. “This is no time to joke, Nicholas. Did she seem concerned about anything?”
“Actually, she did seem a bit on edge.”
Striding down the corridor toward his office, Marc pulled his sunshades off his eyes and tossed them and his keys to Nicholas. “Have someone park the car, and make sure I am not disturbed until I say otherwise. Is that clear?”
Nicholas stopped outside the study and saluted. “I live to serve you.”
After sending Nicholas a harsh look—which the man did not seem to heed—Marc opened his office door to find Kate leaning back against his desk, her arms stiff at her sides and her eyes reflecting displeasure. Obviously Renault had used his torrid tactics to try to bed her, or she had confirmed Cecile’s blood type as his match and still believed he wasn’t being truthful.
After closing the door behind him and tripping the lock, Marc decided to begin with his concerns over her colleague. “Did Renault do something to you?”
“I didn’t see him again after your left. I did see a few patients after I typed Cecile’s blood.”
“Then you have the results?”
“Yes, and I also have a message for you.” Her tone was clipped and cool, devoid of welcome.
“A message?”
“From Elsa, darling. She called a few minutes ago. I answered the phone because I thought it might be you.”
Why in the devil was Elsa calling him? He’d made it quite clear that he wanted no contact from her, not that his demands had ever stopped her. “What did she want?”