A Royal Wager: Persuading the Playboy King / Unmasking the Maverick Prince / Daring the Dynamic Sheikh

“As long as we’ve absolutely ruled out your lover.”

He took a step forward. “Former lover. It’s over between us, Kate.”

She slowly ran a fingertip along the edge of the desk, fueling Marc’s all-consuming desire for her. “Obviously you still have something she wants.”

“She wants attention and not necessarily only from me.”

Kate leaned back against the desk, using her arms as a brace, thrusting her breasts forward, driving Marc to distraction. “Are you sure about that? She’s very vocal about your skills as a lover. So are you, Marc?”

A fool? A man too weak to resist her charms? “Am I what?”

“A skilled lover?”

Marc was only certain about one thing—he couldn’t ignore Kate’s query, asked in a sensual voice that threatened his control. Couldn’t ignore her simple black slacks and plain white blouse that would be easy to remove. Couldn’t ignore the tightness in his groin when she streaked her tongue over her lower lip.

“I do not make it a habit to speculate on my skill,” he said, clinging to his last strand of restraint.

“Maybe I should judge for myself.”

“You have no idea what you’re asking, Kate.” He did know all too well she recognized the power she had over him at that moment, and he found that incredibly hard to resist.

She swept her dark hair away from her face with one hand. “You’re wrong, Marc. I know exactly what I’m asking, and so do you. Does your expertise live up to the hype? Are you a good lover?”

“Good is an interesting term. Good only comes when you do not aspire to be great.”

“Do you aspire to be a great lover, Marc DeLoria?”

“I refuse to settle for mediocrity in any of my endeavors.”

She challenged him with a look, dared him with a sultry smile, enticed him with words when she said, “Then prove it.”

Marc was losing his tenuous hold on his common sense. He only knew that if he didn’t get away from Kate now, he would kiss her—deeply and without reservation. Touch her without hesitation. Without consideration of the consequences. He had no call to want her as much as he did. He had too much to consider in light of his position and too little to offer her beyond mutual pleasure. But he did want her, and he’d be damned if he had her—or damned if he didn’t.

Propelled by his weakness for this woman, Marc closed the distance between them in two strides and braced his palms on the desk on either side of her. He sought her mouth in a rush, as if he couldn’t survive without exploring the territory once more. She opened to him, played her tongue against his, pushed him to a point where he could easily dispense with all formality and clothing to get inside her immediately. But he rejected that notion. If he could touch her, taste her, tempt her, then that would be enough. It would have to be enough.

After breaking the kiss, he settled his face in the hollow below her throat, pressing his lips there while inhaling her enticing fragrance.

“Marc, I thought you said we couldn’t.” Her voice was a teasing, breathy caress at his ear.

“Shouldn’t,” he murmured then slid his tongue down the cleft between her breasts, stopping where the opening of her blouse ended and buttons began, knowing he should not go any farther. But knowing what he shouldn’t do did nothing to quell the urge to do what he wanted to do. To her, with her.

Kate threaded her hands through his hair, back and forth in long, torturous strokes. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private.”

He straightened and slipped the first button on her blouse, ignoring the persistent voice telling him to stop. “I’ve locked the door.” He released two more buttons, keeping his gaze fixed on Kate’s eyes, searching for any sign of protest. He saw nothing but need. “I gave orders that we are not to be disturbed.”

“Very resourceful,” she said, followed by a shaky smile that indicated nervousness, but not reluctance.

Finally, Marc parted her blouse, exposing her bra, which he unhooked with a quick flip of one finger beneath the front closure before pushing it aside with both hands. His gaze roved over her breasts, round and pink tinged to match the flush on her face when he lifted her up and seated her on the desk’s edge.

As he traced a path around one rosy tip with his finger, Kate watched his movements, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession. “Tu es parfaite,” he whispered. “Perfect.”

Dipping his head, he drew one nipple into his mouth, relishing the feel of her against his tongue. He wanted more. He wanted it all. He wanted to undo her slacks, slip his hand inside, experience her wet heat. He wanted to open his own fly, give himself some blessed relief, and thrust inside her.

When Kate released a soft, sexual sound, reality forced its way into his psyche and he took a step back. “We have to stop this, Kate.”

“Why?”

Marc had so many reasons, but he began with the most important. “I have nothing to protect you against pregnancy, and God knows I do not need another complication.”

Kate’s face fell as if it had the weight of the world attached. “Complication? So that’s what I am to you?”

“No…that’s not…” What in the hell could he say? Yes, she was a complication. His overwhelming desire was very complicated, as were his feelings for her that he did not dare examine. “Look, Kate, I’ve done what I said I would not do. I’ve proven my weakness for you against my better judgment.”

“Weakness for me, or for women in general?”

That brought seething anger to the surface of Marc’s attempts at a calm facade. “I’ve spent almost a year being celibate, and it was not due to a lack of propositions. I’ve met many women over that time, in many different places, and not one has tempted me the way that you do. Only you, Kate, and no one else.”

She looked a bit more relaxed, if not totally pleased, as she redid her bra. “And what do you propose we do now? Ignore our attraction to each other?” She paused with a hand on the blouse and looked at him thoughtfully. “Or were you just trying to prove a point?”

“If that were true, Kate, I would not have stopped.”

She sent a direct look at his distended fly. “Then you’re determined to be the king of steel, is that correct?”

Steel would be a more-than-adequate description in terms of his erection, but not when it came to his strength as far as Kate was concerned. “I cannot make love to you Kate. If I do, then I am in danger of hurting you in the process.”

“You can’t hurt me, Marc. I know what this is all about. Chemistry. Attraction. Not ever-after.”

“But you have no idea what my life is about. If anyone even suspects we’re involved, you will suffer for it.”

“I’m not a wilting flower. And as I told you before, I’m only looking for some adventure.” She didn’t sound all that convincing. “But I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Right then, he would have gladly taken her down to the floor and finished what they’d started—what he had started. Instead, he turned away and headed for the door.

He needed to remember who he was—a king with a consuming need to be accepted. But his need for Kate was beginning to overshadow everything else.

He could not let that happen. It might destroy everything he had sought to accomplish in terms of his reputation. But worse, it could destroy her.

Without facing her again, he said, “I will see that Nicholas returns you safely to the hotel.”

And then he would retire for the evening, alone, to chastise himself for his complete lack of control.

Even after Marc had been gone for several minutes, Kate could still feel his mouth and hands on her breasts, could still hear him say that he couldn’t make love to her, that she was a complication. She refused to be a complication.

Probably just as well he’d stopped, Kate decided as she adjusted her clothing before leaving the office. And she was crazy to think that she didn’t want him with every fiber of her being. She did take some comfort in knowing that he wanted her, too. At least from a physical standpoint. Unfortunately, she had tried to fool herself into thinking that she only wanted some adventure with Marc, a few goes at hot and fast lovemaking. In reality, she wanted to be more than his friend, more than his lover. Yet Marc wasn’t the kind of man who required more than temporary affairs—without complications.

Kate’s feelings for Marc were very complicated and she would have to analyze them later. Right now she needed to put aside her predicament, will away the shakes and see about Cecile. With that thought, she opened the door only to be met head-on by the queen mother.

“Hi, Mary,” Kate said in a too-loud voice laden with fake cheerfulness.